I have always held two highly polarised views of Florida.

On the one hand, Florida seems to be mostly old people, overbuilt roads, an uncomfortable divide between rich and poor, and more old people. Not much actually happens there, time just ticks along. Most days, the only thing thicker than the humidity is the oppressive sense of senior white privilege.

On the other hand, it is beautiful beaches, a phenomenal colour pallette that changes by the hour, nature everywhere, and relaxed, easy living. The sun and sand heals what ails you: all those old people live longer and better for being there than they ever would up north in the cold. Pelicans soar effortlessly and then dive madly into the water. The sunsets have no equal.

This trip, I found a metaphor that resolves the Florida dilemma.

Florida is the third prong on your light plug.

The third prong is the one that drains your static, prevents your overload, keeps you balanced. It has no inherent potential, powers nothing, yet it drives you towards some things and pulls you away from others. It is a constant in a world of ever varying currents.

The third prong is a good thing to be attached to. The connection improves one’s ability to receive and sense the energy of the world at a distance. It forms the comparator against which strength is measured. Touch it on its own, and you will not die. Just don’t let the energy you have collected and saved get spent there.

In summary: Florida, like the third prong, serves a vital purpose. It is needed. Bypass it at your peril.