ASK THE BIRD: Will my BENGAY be confiscated if I travel through the Free State of Florida because, you know, it's woke?

Miss Mingo answers your questions every Saturday here on Tropic Press except when she's hungover and it slides a few days. Some of her responses may actually have at least a fleeting basis in fact.

Editor’s Note: Hermina Hermelinda Obregon, a.k.a. Miss Mingo, is a recovering newspaper reporter living in a bungalow off Duval Street in Key West, where she answers the pressing questions of the day about life, the news, and sunset times at Mallory Square. You can support her bar tab by becoming a paid subscriber.

DEAR MISS MINGO:

I routinely have bad aches and pains, and I will soon be headed to Key West to see friends where I used to live. My question is: Will I be able to find “BENGAY” on store shelves, or if I bring some with me, will I be stopped at the border?

Thanks,

Bob

Dear Bob:

There are many ways to arrive in Key West with BENGAY, some more hazardous than others.

For instance, a motorboat from Venezuela is discouraged these days, as any stray watercraft found floating in the Caribbean by watchful American satellites is subject to being used for target practice, either from the Navy or Jewish space lasers.

And for all I know, and for all the U.S. government knows, those boats are filled with crates of BENGAY. What they are most likely NOT filled with is fentanyl, despite what that “Piggy” living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue might claim.

Is BENGAY sold in Key West stores? Yes, it has been smuggled in from the mainland and can be found in most pharmacies.

Can you arrive in Key West with BENGAY in your luggage?

You’ll have no problem at Customs Control here in the Keys. However, passing through the Free State of Florida with any product labeled “gay” or anything that even hints at being woke is subject to confiscation by Gov. Ron DeSantis’s shock troops.

I’m told there is an entire wing at Alligator Alcatraz filled with seized woke contraband. Mostly imprisoned there are rainbow flags and chalk used to create rainbow crosswalks. Sources tell me that some old Bing Crosby records are also locked up in a special cell block for their prohibited use of the phrase “don we now our gay apparel.” So, it wouldn’t surprise me if there weren’t a few tubes of BENGAY in there as well.

Good luck.

DEAR MISS MINGO:

Miss Mingo, how can we afford ICE agents but not air traffic controllers?

Regards,

Tom

Dear Tom:

You wrote this before the end of the government shutdown, and in the intervening days, air traffic has been restored to near-normal levels. But your inquiry is still pertinent.

We might also ask:

How can we afford to send Argentina $40 billion to bail out Donald Trump’s investor cronies, but can’t pay for food stamps for hungry Americans, especially with all the “America First” blather?

Or how can the Free State of Florida give away millions of dollars’ worth of land in downtown Miami to billionaire Trump for his so-called library when we know he hasn’t touched a book other than his Chinese-made Bible in decades?

Or how can we afford government jet transportation and around-the-clock security for FBI Director Kash Patel’s teenage girlfriend?

DEAR MISS MINGO:

I hate to correct you, but Kash Patel’s girlfriend is actually 27.

Picky in Pinellas Park

Dear Picky:

Yeah, okay, fair point. But she USED to be a teenager.

DEAR MISS MINGO:

I just got an auto response from Florida Senator Rick Scott from my email suggesting he actually do some work and save my health insurance. Looking at him, I think he’s Voldemort.

Is he?

Peeved in Palm Harbor

Dear Peeved:

A case could be made for that.

Which naturally raises the question, who is scarier between the two? I asked the never-wrong ChatGPT and here’s the answer:

Voldemort is definitely scarier… unless you’ve ever seen Rick Scott smile.

One is a dark wizard who spreads fear across the land, and the other is a Florida politician who looks like he’s two seconds away from asking if you’ve accepted the power of sunscreen into your life.

Voldemort: casts the Killing Curse. Rick Scott: casts the “Why does he look like that?” curse.

Honestly, it’s a toss-up. The real answer:

Whichever one shows up in your bathroom mirror when the lights flicker.

DEAR MISS MINGO:

My Grandpa LOVED Travis MacGee, so when I would visit, I would borrow a few. I also loved them and would look for the title color as I read. I am not a witch doctor, but I am a witch. I don’t believe the Universe is conspiring for me, but, as we are all made of stardust, I believe there are opportunities and guidance shown to us. Blessed Be, Miss Mingo.

The Rainbow Zee

Dear Rainbow:

What a sweet sentiment. You made my day. Thank you.

Yes, we are all made of stardust. Literally. Stardust and mortality are things we inescapably share. Maybe, as a former (and not morbidly obese) president once said, we do, indeed, all have more in common than divides us.

Good to bear that in mind.

And the fact that I just typed something so saccharine and free of snark tells me it’s time for another round, so I’m going to sign off now and get the bartender here at Irish Kevin’s to pour me another.

Have a great weekend, friends, and stay thirsty.

Miss Mingo

P.S. For those of you who have inquired, yes, the Marketing Department at Tropic Press is busy arranging for the production of Miss Mingo tee shirts (or is it T-shirts?). I’m told this process will take a bit of time as there is a raging internal debate about finding just the right shade of pink.

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Got a question for Miss Mingo? About life, the news, or clever ways to avoid paying bar tabs? Write to her at MissMingo@Tropic.Press

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Hermina Hermelinda Obregon—a.k.a. Miss Mingo—was an award-winning newspaper reporter before she involuntarily joined the diaspora of journalists leaving the newspaper profession. She now lives with her two cats—Deadline and Dateline—and her pet iguana Skippy. If you wander the streets (and bars) of Key West, you’ll doubtless run into her. She’ll be the woman wearing the ridiculous flamingo hat. If you want an autograph, you’ll have to buy her a Cuba Libre. There’s more about her here.

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On this day…

Nov. 22. Fifty-seven years ago on this date, aboard the USS Enterprise, Captain James T. Kirk and Lt. Uhura shared a kiss. It was the first scripted interracial smooch in American TV history and came less than a year after the U.S. Supreme Court affirmed the rights of people of mixed races to marry.

Ordinarily, Kirk would have been reprimanded for fraternizing with a subordinate, but he was possessed by a space alien at the time.

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More online

Thank you for reading this edition of Tropic Press. You also have access to the Tropic Press website for additional and previous posts, an archive of posts from Miss Mingo, occasional guest commentaries, and information about The Strange Files series of mysterious adventures and other books.

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Thanks to our sponsor

Today’s report is brought to you by The Light Fantastic 2: Amazing Pets, an anthology of hilarious science fiction short stories and novellas created by a hive of award-winning Florida writers. Now on sale. Get your copy here.

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