text: When I was eleven, for a reason completely unbeknownst to me my family moved to Apopka, Florida. We lived there for one year, and then moved back to Minnesota within forty miles of Moorhead where we had lived previously. Obviously, some adult crisis or other had precipitated this bewildering experience. Whatever the problem was, Florida would surely fix it. How fitting that in the wake of my own adult crisis, I should accompany my parents on a vacation to the “Sunshine State”. When we arrived in Florida we picked up our modest rental sedan and navigated our way to my parents’ friends’ house, Dean and Cathy. As I walked into their house, the first thing I took notice of was a bottle of tequila tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. There it sat alone, unacknowledged by anyone but me, my crisis. The bottle resided in that spot for the duration of our stay, no one pulled it out, no drinks flowed. I could not tell if this was coincidental or if it was because our hosts had been made aware of my recent teetotalism, my move back into my parent’s house, my loss of my Trader Joes job, and my abandonment of my lease on my hipster coffeehouse apartment, nor did I care. Dean and Cathy had a daughter named Danielle. Danielle had been friends with my older sister fourteen years prior. Danielle was younger than my sister, she was a little chubby, she was kind of homely looking, and I believe she liked my sister more than my sister liked her. Time had been kind to Danielle as she had shed the weight and grown into her features, though her body looked as if it would easily regain the weight. This fact was also apparent by looking at her mother. We had rented a crummy townhome for the week. My bedroom lay directly beneath my parents’ bedroom, and my bed lay directly beneath my parents’ bed. That night as I lay awake, I could hear my parents above me, doing the very thing that brought me into this world twenty five years ago. In a moment like this, one turns inward "Twenty five years into this life and this is where I am?" Most of our time in the “Sunshine State” was spent indoors. Going outside would result in being broiled alive by the sun. After a few days of this stagnation, the parents decided it was time for the kids to go out on the town and arranged for us to meet up with a dating couple. I hopped into Danielle’s gray Ford Escort on the passenger’s side. Though I was not really into Danielle, being alone with her in her car seemed like a novel experience, and I worked hard to play it really cool. I had given little attention to the opposite sex over the last few years since they did not come in a bottle marked “80 proof”. We arrived at our destination, some establishment resembling an Applebee’s and met the other couple in the parking lot. I already knew the man of the couple, Russell. I had been friends with Russell as a child when we were twelve. He was the baby of the family and acted accordingly. Russell was the type of kid that always seemed to find himself in some strange disaster that left you watching incredulously. Once at a minor league baseball game, he got under a pop-fly ball and held his hands up to catch it. The ball slipped right through the diamond shaped hole of his thumbs and index fingers and broke its fall right on the tip of his pointy freckled nose, blood gushed everywhere. Time had done little to remedy Russell’s gawky appearance. He was a redhead with freckles, tall, and gangly. If you did not know of Russell’s families’ money, you may not understand why a highly attractive well-dressed woman was by his side. As the double date progressed, conversation was slow. The only time I was really engaged was when Russell’s date brought up a music video she had just seen on YouTube. As she detailed this video, I began to recognize her descriptions and interjected, “Are you talking about ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush?” “Yes,” she replied with a shocked look on her face, “I really didn’t expect anyone to recognize such an obscure reference." Then for the next few moments we proceeded to wax poetic about Kate Bush and her unique artistic abilities. It had been a very long time since I had made this kind of connection with anyone, much less a beautiful woman. I pondered the unfortunate nature of this situation. Across from me sat a beautiful woman with whom I had made a connection. She should have been with me, but instead she was with this bore of a man. A man, that because of the umbra of my own crisis and the void of any measurable personal development, I had no chance of competing with. This of course did not stop me from fantasizing about our future life together in the moment of an instant that was just as soon discarded. For dessert, Russell took us to an Italian Ice Stand. Over half the night he had been trumpeting the deliciousness of these frozen treats. When we finally sat down with our Italian Ices, Russell was a bit disappointed that we did not seem to share his enthusiasm. He asked “What do you guys think? Are these great or what?” His date barely made a reply. "Who does this woman think she is?" I thought, "doesn’t she know that this is my childhood friend? She could be a little nicer to him." Trying to console my friend I embellished a little, “I give it an eleven out of ten.” “That’s the kind of enthusiasm I was looking for!" cheered Russell. That was the last night we spent in Florida. We boarded a plane and headed back to Minnesota: my parents, my crisis, and I. What led my parents to this place fourteen years ago I may never know, but I can't help believing that this is the wisdom they wished to impart: Problems cannot be outrun or left behind, but they can always be taken to the “Sunshine State.