(Tom Jirik wrote columns in several newspapers in Iowa from the late 1980’s to the mid 1990’s.  This column originally appeared in the The Boone Today) 

I’m not a well-traveled guy.  I’ve been as far south as Chariton; as far West as Medora, N.D; as far east as the Amana Colonies; and as far north as Winnipeg.  I’ve never seen an ocean for a mountain.  I know Europe exists because I read National Geographic and the Grand Canyon sure looks nice in pictures.

But I’m not complaining.  I like it here in the Midwest.  It’s a good place to live and the people here are friendly.  They are also normal, which is more than I can say for my sister-in-law, Patty, and her husband Bill.

They used to be normal Midwesterners.  They lived in a normal Midwestern house in a normal Midwestern city-Minneapolis.  Then they moved to Florida.

I’m certain that Florida is a wonderful place to visit.  With all those swamps and alligators, who wouldn’t want to visit?  But I think I’d have some problems adjusting to life there.  I don’t care for teeny-tiny reptiles, so I’m sure I wouldn’t care for big ones with sharp teeth, I honestly like snow and windchills.  If Florida’s heat didn’t kill me, it’s humidity would.

So when Patty and Bill announced they were headed for Florida, I had some misgivings.  I thought,” Move to Florida, and you’ll be sorry.”  But I kept my mouth shut.  And now its too late.  Something strange is happening to Patty and Bill.

Out first indication came in the form of a video tape.  Apparently bitten by the “Miami Vice” bug, Patty and Bill took us on a video tour of their new neighborhood. 

The narration went something like this:  “This is the north side of our house.  This is the south side of our house.  This is the west side.  This is the east side.  This is our cat, Emerson, but you know him.   These are our bushes.  We are going to cut them down because snakes live in them.  Here we go in the car.  This is the street.  There is stop sign.  There is our local store.”

Those of us back in the Midwest got carsick.

Next. Patty and Bill began making regular trips to the “Magic-Kingdom.”  How many times can you really enjoy those whirling teacups?

Pretty soon Patty became fixated with tiny reptiles, namely chameleons.  She calls them “meleons.”  Every letter or phone call had a reference to them like this: “The meleons like to hang on the screens,” and “we have lots of meleons out in the garage,” or Emerson ate a meleon, but it make him sick.”

Well, I think living in Florida has finally, pushed Patty and Bill off the deep end.  Last week an envelope came in the mail.  It was addressed to our cats, Fletcher and Zerbert, (I

May explain those names in a future column, but I won’t go into it here.)

The return address carried Emerson’s name.  Our cats had received a letter from another cat.

I was mildly surprised.

Although Fletcher has shown some interest in the typewriter, neither of our cats have ever shown and interest in writing.  I’m sure Emerson is intelligent, but I really doubted that he could write.

Inside the envelope were some coupons for cat food and this scribbly letter.

Dear Cats cousins, Fletcher and Zerbert:

I found these wonderful kitty food coupons for you.  Mom helped me write this letter, even though I didn’t want to do it.  I meowed violently to let her know my displeasure.  Bye!

Love, Emerson.

It’s a shame about what’s happened to Patty and Bill.  A real shame.