You wouldn't think that a punk rock band like The Clash would be prescient, but they had the right of it 20 years ago when they sang about being between a rock and a hard place. Clearly, that narrowly defined crevice was South Florida.
If you're a South Florida homeowner like I am, you're probably becoming increasingly aware of vacant homes, shuttered businesses and rising prices. Sometimes, at night, when I've taken a few too many Tylenol P.M., I have flashbacks to gas shortages, double-digit inflation and the droning voice of Richard Nixon exhorting his "fellow Americans" to tough it out. Frankly, I'd rather dig up LBJ to re-declare war on poverty.
There, I said it. Poverty. P-o-v-e-r-t-y. Yet the poor didn't just invade Bocahontas and her faltering sisters. They became poor just standing in place. If that sounds strange, take a look around and you'll see that the middle class is fast disappearing. In fact, it's pretty much already gone. All that's left are the fat cats with their grotesque oceanside homes (with matching boathouse on the Intracoastal Waterway) and that kid behind the register at McDonald's (the one that smells like stale grease).
Anyone with the slightest bit of insight could tell you that this situation has its roots in the heady refinance-now-and-take-out-equity days before the market waffled. Developers, banks and mortgage brokers further muddied the waters when they transformed thousands of rental units into condos that went unsold. No matter. The banks and mortgage companies got their bailouts, swallowed their bonuses and are now gleefully foreclosing on homes faster than you can say "vacant lot."
All of this leaves me wondering: what will we do when the greater Fort Lauderdale area becomes the "Detroit of the South?" No, don't bother answering. I can't listen and pack at the same time.
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