Kick Ass: Selected Columns of Carl Hiaasen

The case remains controversial in the Panhandle, where some folks still say Pitts and Lee are guilty. That it's taken Florida so long to compensate the men can be explained by old Dixie politics.

But this year finds a Republican-controlled Legislature that's avidly courting black voters. It's also a year of great bounty in Tallahassee, so lawmakers have been throwing' hundreds of millions of dollars at all kinds of pet projects, causes and schemes.

There's money for jellyfish farming, and for special trucks to haul catfish; money for fairs and zoos and farmers' markets; money for the International Swimming Hall of Fame and even the Palatka Armory ($300,000!).

And at long last there's also some money for Freddie Pitts and Wilbert Lee, 35 years after being sent to Death Row for something they didn't do.

What's right? What's fair? The Senate will decide Monday.

Reparation might be based on the accumulated weight of a dozen productive years gone—the youth of both men, really. Or it could be calculated day-by-day—4,405 of them excised forever from two lives.

A $350,000 lump certainly sounds more generous than $79.46 a day, but it's the same number. Not an insignificant number, either, considering how Pitts and Lee have gotten stiffed in the past.

I don't know what one day in your life is worth in dollars and cents, but $79.46 still seems cheap to me.

Especially considering how lawmakers quietly have set aside $2.5 million for "transition" expenses for Florida's new governor next January—$2.2 million more than what was spent on Lawton Chiles' taking office.

For $2.5 million, it should be quite an arrival. They ought to hold it at the Palatka Armory, and give the rest of the money to Freddie Pitts and Wilbert Lee.

Candidates with Convictions

Forget diplomacy, try Joaquin Andujar for mayor November 1, 1985

First, let's get this ridiculous mayor's race out of the way.

The best man for the job isn't even running, so you'll have to write his name on Tuesday's ballot.

I'm speaking, of course, of Joaquin Andujar.

If you saw the seventh game of the World Series, you know what I'm talking about. The score's about a zillion to nothing when the Cards call Andujar in from the bullpen. He throws a couple of fast balls, then goes berserk and starts chasing the umpires. He gets thrown out of the game but still won't quit: In the clubhouse he grabs a bat and beats one of the toilets to death.

As I watched them drag Joaquin, thrashing and foaming, off the field the other night, I thought: This man would make a great mayor of Miami. He's perfect—more decisive than Maurice Ferre, more stable than Joe Carollo, more intelligible than Demetrio Perez and more energetic than Miller Dawkins and J. L. Plummer put together.

In no time Andujar would mop up the City Commission. Forget diplomacy—we're talking a 93-mile-an-hour brushback pitch.

It's not such a bad idea, when you review this year's crop of political hopefuls, a veritable slag-heap of mediocrity. What is it about South Florida that compels people barely fit to function in society to go out and run for public office? Be grateful that Thomas Jefferson's dead so he doesn't have to witness our peculiar version of the democratic process.

A few stars:

• Miami mayoral candidate Evelio Estrella, who blames the Anglos and blacks for ruining the city. He also refuses to speak English during candidate forums. This guy doesn't belong in City Hall; he belongs in a Mel Brooks movie.

• Miami Beach mayoral contender Alex Daoud, who actually took out an advertisement boasting of an endorsement by Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees. We can only assume Boy George is stumping for Malcolm Fromberg.

• Hialeah city councilman Paulino Nunez, up for re-election, who allegedly pulled a handgun on one of his enemies during a city meeting. Despite witnesses' accounts, Nunez denies it happened. He says he owns several guns, but left them home that night. There, doesn't that you make feel better?

• Hialeah City Council candidate Roy Leon, who was arrested for soliciting prostitution, possession of marijuana and carrying a concealed machete. Of all the charges, it's that darn machete business that nags at me, though I'm sure Mr. Leon has a splendid explanation. When does the cane crop come in this year anyway?

• Harvey MacArthur, the socialist running for Miami mayor, who wants to fly in both Daniel Ortega and Louis Farrakhan for advice on city government. All they need is Moammar Khadafy and they'd have a fourth for bridge.

• Frederick Bryant, who is running for Miami mayor but initially refused to let the Miami News take his photograph like the other candidates. Something tells me Mr. Bryant's a bit too shy to be mayor.