And yet if the Sunshine State is a larger-than-life reflection of where the country is heading, then the nation is still stuck, scared and uncertain of how far it wants to stray from the status quo. My travels through Florida make clear that \u201d\u201d despite the urge to see recovery in improved housing sales \u201d\u201d the costs of recent real estate mistakes continue to be severe. Change was often discussed during the 2008 election and after the financial meltdown, but Florida these days often resembles the character played by its native son Mickey Rourke in \u201cThe Wrestler\u201d\u009d: a broken-down piece of meat, damaged and sincere, but a little too messed up to drop familiar habits.<\/p>\n
Real estate and fast money, after all, have defined this peninsula since the \u201920s, when empty lots of swamp could be flipped for a profit between martinis. Florida has generally relied far more on growth than its counterparts: in 2004 and 2005, housing construction\u2019s share of the state economy was close to twice the national average, according to the Bureau of Economic and Business Research at the University of Florida.<\/p>\n
Weaknesses in the approach emerged quietly, even before the bust, as overdevelopment and rising costs started pushing people away. Some were \u201chalfbacks\u201d\u009d \u201d\u201d retirees originally from the North who ventured \u201chalfway back\u201d\u009d to Georgia or the Carolinas \u201d\u201d but young families fled, too. In 2005, Broward County lost 1,756 students, in a district that thought nothing of adding 10,969 in 2001. Since 2004, enough parents have left to shrink the student body by 6 percent.<\/p>\n