How about that weather?

Here’s a news report from yesterday about the substantial snowfall in the Florida Panhandle. Great googly moogly!

It didn’t snow where I am, but the white stuff wasn’t all that far north of my location. I haven’t seen snow in decades and briefly considered driving up to gawk.

But then I remembered I don’t know how to drive in snow, and neither do lots of other people who would be on the road. So I thought “fuck that!” and stayed home with a hot mug of Irish coffee. Good call!

In a press release, our contemptible wretch of a governor used the occasion of the unusual weather to pucker up and kiss ass by referring to the body of water on the west side of the state in the manner demanded by Emperor Tang:

WHEREAS, an area of low pressure moving across the Gulf of America, interacting with Arctic air, will bring widespread impactful winter weather to North Florida beginning Tuesday, January 21, 2025…”

God, it’s all so stupid and embarrassing, and you can’t escape by ignoring the news. Even the fucking weather bulletins are subject to the Sharpie treatment.

The Florida Politics site set out to gauge public sentiment on changing the name of the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America by asking some residents of Cedar Key what they think. Here are a couple of samples:

Cedar Key, a quaint fishing town in Levy County, is a cluster of islands that extend about three miles into the Gulf of Mexico from Florida’s mainland. One resident for more than a decade, 78-year-old Air Force retiree Thomas McKee, said he sees no reason for changing the name.

“Donald Trump is just blowing his horn again,” he said.

McKee, who isn’t registered with a political party, said he thinks many residents will continue to use the Gulf’s original name, which dates at least to the late 1600s. “It’s been too long the Gulf of Mexico to be all of a sudden known as the Gulf of America,” he said.

Amy Henderson, a Cedar Key resident and registered Republican who owns a gift shop and hotel overlooking the Gulf, was initially surprised by Trump’s proposal. Her first thought, however, was practical: “I would have to change a lot of T-shirt designs.”

But, she added, “Anything that shows pride for America, I am 100% for.”

The national pride angle sure doesn’t resonate for me. I’ve never been more embarrassed to be an American.

Anyhoo, my favorite comment from the surveyed Cedar Key residents came from the town’s mayor:

For Cedar Key’s Mayor, Sue Colson, the name change is a distraction from the country’s aftermath of natural disasters — including three major hurricanes recently that hit her town in a span of just 13 months. She offered a different moniker for the Gulf instead, an homage to a popular seafood harvested in the shallow waters nearby.

“I prefer it to be the Gulf of Clam,” she said. “I’m serious. If we’re going to do it, then everybody’s going to call it what they want.”

It makes sense from the mayor’s perspective. Apart from tourism, Cedar Key is known for its clams.

It wasn’t nicknamed “Clamalot,” when my ancestors arrived in Cedar Key about 180 years ago, but after they cut down most of the trees to sell to pencil factories and hurricanes washed away the rest and fishing fleets were destroyed by storms and then by gill net bans, the town settled on clam cultivation.

So “Gulf of Clam” — why not? Like the mayor said, we get to call it what we want.

Most people who live on it just call it “the Gulf.” That’s appropriate too, and not just in the geographical sense. “Gulf” can also mean an abyss or seemingly bottomless chasm, and I kind of feel like we’re in that right now.

Open thread!

The Gulf (Open Thread)Post + Comments (77)