Franz Kafka awoke one morning from some unsetting dreams and found himself startled to observe picturesque Fort Myers Beach changing into a hideous atrocity. For years, the island was a scenic getaway from the snow, the ice, the cold, the noise of his northern residence above the Mason-Dixon line.
Unexpectedly, he was confronted with the ugly major construction project of Estero Boulevard. He hoped that the project was only a temporary intrusion to the peace and tranquility, the gentle ocean breezes and the marvelous sunny days and entertaining evenings at the numerous local musical nightspots and delicious seafood restaurants.
The project was to replace and/or add drain pipes, water pipes, waste pipes, electric system pipes, as well as all of Florida’s Scottish bagpipes. It also would widen and beautify the narrow lackluster boulevard, and help the flow of traffic along the snails’ pace of the busy boulevard.
Franz thought all of the project’s goals were reasonable and worthwhile. He remembered that the boulevard was only about 7 miles long; therefore, how long could such a project take – 1, 2, 3 years of discomfort and disquiet?
Franz struggled to be patient. Slowly, the metamorphosis revealed itself. Reality set in. His mind awakened to the fact that 4 years into the project, and just one mile was completed.
The hideous monstrosity was coming to life. Beautiful Fort Myers Beach was now spewing dust, laden with orange safety barrels, yellow-vested workers, gargantuan yellow and black metal grave-diggers, hundreds of small and large grey, red, green yellow pipes, piles of black macadam and grey sand, tons of reddish-brown 12” inch street pavers. The lovely boulevard had turned repulsive.
Could the prospect of this nightmarish, twisting serpent-like demon get any worse? Sardonically, Kafka shuttered at the possibility of the monstrosity growing a 50-foot hydra-dragon for its tail.
Dr. John Pisarra,