How do you describe Gulf County, Florida?
Our friend Sean Dietrich, also known to many as Sean of the South, answers in his own unique writing style:
Gulf County is a place where the sun sets over the serene water in such a way that it gives you the same feeling adolescent boys often feel when they see a pretty girl. It’s a feeling that makes a young man think to himself, “Hey, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with this girl.”
But this serene feeling doesn’t last. At least not in boys. Because after only three milliseconds, the boy gets nervous—which only makes the girl’s beauty more intimidating—then he forgets his first name.
Pretty soon, the boy can’t speak for fear that he will suddenly lose control of his bladder in a public place. So instead, when he sees this girl face to face, he stutters, then mumbles something about the importance of tax reform, and walks away.
That’s Gulf County.
It’s not a landscape, nor climate, nor a group of restaurants with killer smoked tuna dip. It is a place where many of us find the greatest parts of our youth and the best parts of our present. A place where we adults become children again, simply by holding a fishing rod. It’s nature, and boats, and music, and oysters.
A place where you once sipped a Corona as a newlywed, staring at your brand new wife, stealing glances at your wedding rings, trying not to cry when you slow-danced to “You Are So Beautiful.”
It’s a place where you realize what kind of dedication, and moderate insanity it takes to be a true bay-scalloper.
But most importantly, it is where the sun meets the water. Where light bounces off marshlands in a special way. A place where everything becomes clear, all at once. Where you realize that whoever came up with the idea of Heaven, has definitely been to one of our raw bars before.
This is where you look at the beautiful world surrounding you and think to yourself, “Hey, I wouldn’t mind falling in love with this.”
