Rick Scott doesn’t care about Florida. All Rick Scott cares about is making money
Image by DonkeyHote of flickr. Creative Commons license.
Hurricane Helene struck the Big Bend area of Florida in 2024 with winds of 140 mph. As the storm made its way through Georgia, the Carolinas and Kentucky, it claimed the lives of 252 people and caused almost $80 billion in damages.
Days before the storm hit, Congress had a chance to attach a supplemental disaster relief bill to a government funding measure that would have helped FEMA quickly respond to the hurricane. Instead of remaining in Washington, D.C., to make sure FEMA got those funds, Florida Sen. Rick Scott skipped the vote and left town – partly because of the approaching hurricane!
That disaster relief supplement was not approved. What followed was a chorus of criticism, primarily from MAGAts, about FEMA’s response to the storm, a response that had been hobbled by money-grubbing Republicans.
Meanwhile, Scott recently voted against a bill that would bar lawmakers, the vice president and president from trading stocks while serving in office. “How many of you don’t want to make money?” Scott asked while speaking against the measure.
The bill eventually passed, but it isn’t known if it’ll be taken up by the Senate at a later date.
It should be obvious to even the MAGAts that Rick Scott doesn’t give a damn about Floridians. What Rick Scott cares about is making MONEY.
In 2018 when Rick Scott became a U.S. senator, his net worth was estimated at $259.66, according to Open Secrets. As of 2025 his net worth, according to Quiver Quantitative, is $553.89 million. That’s a 113 percent increase in seven years, all on a paycheck of $174,000 per year. Not bad for a “servant” of the people.
Rick Scott seems to have forgotten why he was elected to the Senate. He isn’t there to make money. He’s there to serve the people of Florida. If serving the people of Florida gets in the way of his making money, he needs to step aside and let somebody else take that job. It’s not too much to ask that these so-called “servants” refrain from using their positions of trust to get filthy, stinking rich.
I don’t understand why people aren’t mad about this. Why aren’t people furious?
By the way, Rick Scott is up for re-election in 2026.
For the love of God, Floridians, do the right thing.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of GetArchive by way of a Creative Commons license. https://garystockbridge617.getarchive.net/
I’m known throughout the land as a pennypincher.
A quarter of my paycheck goes to the 401(k). I stash money in savings every month. I grill insurance agents for the lowest possible premium. The T.Mobile rep said he couldn’t give me a cheaper rate because the one I have is so low it no longer exists.
But today, I did something notoriously out of character. It started this way:
I was talking to my friend Dusty and mentioned I hadn’t won a tennis tournament this decade. I won in the ’70s, ‘80s and ‘90s. I missed the ’00s. And now, 38 years after taking up tennis, I had a hankering to win one more. Problem is I had only one racket, an ancient Prince I bought back in 1992. It is to tennis rackets what black-and-white is to TVs. To play in a tournament I’d need a racket and a back-up. They’d have to be the same racket, same weight, same grip size, same balance, same string gauge, same tension … you get the picture.
So today Dusty and I dropped by the Fort Walton Beach Tennis Center so I could try out some demos from Erik Stenberg’s pro shop. The choices were bewildering, so I gathered up an armful and hit the courts.
I quickly discovered I did NOT like the lighter rackets, the 9-ounce jobs. A 10.6-ounce racket seemed to suit my game. Grip size became an issue. I’d always used 4 1/2, but the 4 3/8 rackets worked better for me.
It came down to two Babolats, one that was weighted at the top, the other with a more even weight distribution. I settled with even. Dusty looked online to check the price, which came in at $185. OK, let’s see, $185 times two, with two $30 string jobs … that’s $430.
I cringed. Erik’s would probably be higher, let’s say $20 per racket. A $470 dent in my checking account would take months to repair. But in the end I decided I wanted to buy local. Erik’s a local businessman and I’ve known him for decades. My relationship with him and his wife, Christie, is a lot more important than a few bucks. Besides, I’m pushing 60 and I haven’t bought a tennis racket in 19 years. These might be the last rackets I buy.
So I took the plunge … except it wasn’t as deep a plunge as I feared. For starters, Erik’s price was substantially below that of the online tennis wholesaler. And at his pro shop the first string job is free – for both rackets!
So while I’m feeling a tad guilty about spending that kind of money on something as frivolous as a tennis racket, I’m happy that now I can begin pursuing my goal of winning one more tennis tournament.
And I’d like to add I’m extremely happy I bought local. Not only did I support a local businessman but I saved money. I know that can’t be true in every case but I believe relationships with my local business community are just as important as money.
So if you’re looking for a tennis racket in the Fort Walton Beach area give Erik Stenberg at FWBTC a call. I’m very happy I did.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of FreeRange Stock. CC license.
Maybe it’s old age catching up with me, but certain things don’t smell as good as they used to.
It’s not that the smells have faded. They’ve changed.
For instance, remember the smell of paper money? It was a lush, earthy scent that smelled the way you would expect money to smell.
Once, when I was a boy of about 10, I removed my life’s savings of $8 from my bank that was disguised as a book, held it to my nose, drew deeply of the rich scent and then tossed the money up in the air, letting it fall over me.
But today’s money doesn’t smell so nice. It has an odor of chemicals, and it doesn’t even look like money, what with the weird ribbons, holographs and odd colors threaded throughout the bills. You have to be a little suspicious of money like that, just as you’d be suspicious of month-old bread without a trace of mold on the crust.
Gasoline no longer smells as good as it once did. I used to love filling the tank on the lawnmower because that sharp, stinging scent of gasoline would rise from the opening and set the air to shimmering. You could almost feel the brain cells dying as you took in the powerful odor.
But now gasoline smells … like chemicals. Perhaps it’s because they’ve removed the lead, or added detergents, or otherwise emasculated it, but gasoline just doesn’t have that honest, powerful smell it once did.
Before the days of photocopiers and laser printers, we primitive folk relied on a gadget called a mimeograph machine to make copies. What a pain. You had to type your material on a stencil, then strap the stencil to a machine with a revolving drum filled with a fluid. The fluid transferred the characters on the stencil to blank pieces of paper stacked below the drum, creating copies in a bluish type that students throughout the ’60s and ’70s grew up on.
While mimeographs were a chore for teachers, they were terrific for students, because the smell was heavenly. The teacher would hand us a freshly minted test and we’d run our noses along the length of the paper, sucking up that intoxicating aroma … and I do mean “intoxicating” because the fluid probably gave us a minor buzz.
And then there were the mosquito foggers that wandered through the neighborhoods spouting huge clouds of white smoke laden with DDT.
We kids loved those foggers. The trucks were noisy and could be heard a couple of streets over; that was our cue to get on our bikes and chase down the fogger to ride in the smoke being spewed from its nozzle. Sometimes the driver would oblige and stop to give us an extra shot of smoke.
When you see the mosquito fogger today you duck inside because it smells so horrible, which I think is the county’s secret strategy – if you’re inside the mosquitoes wont’ bother you. Right?
So the good old days of sniffing all those cancer-causing are gone but not forgotten … at least until that brain cell dies from exposure to toxins.
This column was originally published in the Saturday, December 4, 2004 Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .