GEORGIA IS ON FIRE... BUT MY FATHER WOULD DISAGREE

The tree's in Georgia are burning. Not all of them. At least I don't believe they all are, but seeing how the sky is pitch black, and I smell like I have been attending a bar-b-que that has lasted eight days, it's safe to say a good swath is being smoked by mother earth.
I am in Jacksonville. My parents live here. The state line separating Georgia from Florida is about 30 minutes north of the desk I am sitting at. Still, the sky here is filled with the black smoke and ash of what once was tens of thousands of trees. and it too smells like a never ending bar-b-que.
But if you ask my father, he will tell you that nothing is burning. Everything is fine. There is no reason to panic. Aside from the fact that he is insane, Father also suffers from the unbridled quilt of moving both him and my mother to this suburban wasteland of franchises and churches. It is impossible for them to hide how miserable they are. It would be like trying to hide a tank with a place mat from the local waffle house (there are about seven within a quarter mile of where the parents live). So when I show up, he proceeded to explain to me how this was the smartest decision he had ever made in his life and then went about showing me example upon example of why this city, a city in name only, is ten times better than Brooklyn.
"You see these roads" Father would say as we drove along Blanding Blvd, this six lane behemoth bordered on both sides by abandoned restaurants, car dealerships, and churches (they love churches here).
"Look at these roads! you would never see roads like this up North!"
"You're right pops." I'd reply. "You never would."
"And look at these people," he continued. "Everyone is friendly! And kind! You wouldn't find this in Brooklyn!"
"you got a point there pops."
"And look at all these stores! Anything you want. Right here in front of you! Anything!"
He carried on with other mindless examples until I had enough.
"you know what the biggest difference is between this place and Brooklyn Pops?" I said while leaning over.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Brooklyn is currently not on fire." I leaned back. "I'm just saying, right now, Brooklyn isn't covered in ash and I normally don't get black lung from taking a stroll to the local bodega like I do here."
The ride home became very quiet.