Rarely is the word funky used to describe an entire town. Welcome to Goodland, Florida — all six blocks of it. Founded in the 1800’s, sitting right outside a tiny harbor, is this almost-as-tiny town. Riding around the neighborhood, large and colorful dolphin, swordfish and flamingo mailboxes entertain enroute. Fun enough to see but what really catches you up are some roadside toilets sprouting bountiful bouquets of flowers When I stopped to ask directions, prefacing that with a friendly, “Do you live here?” I was a little surprised at the reply. “No, no one lives here; it’s not big enough.” On the other hand, Stan’s Restaurant could populate an entire small metropolis. So no, not your average town.
Funk reaches its peak on Sundays at the somewhat ramshackle Stan’s Idle Hour Seafood Restaurant — as it has since 1969. Crowds. No, throngs. Mobs? Okay, the sheer number of endlessly undulating bodies of actual humans overflowing the huge area in front of the bandstand at Stan’s far exceeds the population of the town. People of all ages, sizes and shapes gather — the eclectic nature of the vast hordes revelatory. Attested to by the tattooed not-so-tough guy sporting a ponytail who sidles up to the bar at Stan’s and orders a glass of rose wine. Which prompted me to ask the guy sitting next to me at the bar, “What brings you here?” I looked skeptically at his initial reply: “It’s a great place to relax on a Sunday,” until he added, “It appeals to bikers, bums and billionaires.” Yup, that works. The juxtaposition of cars, golf carts and motorcycles swarming around the restaurant is its own visual phenomena.
As the hours progressed from 1 to 3, some of the endlessly undulating bodies coalesce into line-dancing aficionados. And then 3 o’clock arrives — all hell breaks loose as all their myriad reasons for being there come into focus with people swinging and swaying as they depict the strange movements made by trash-scavenging buzzards as they hover over road kill before landing to devour it. In this hallowed tribute to Stan’s signature Buzzard Lope dance, the lyrics instruct participants to “Flap your wings up and down, take steps around and round.” Rest assured no self-respecting buzzard would ever be seen writhing to the pulsating rhythm. The decibel level of the music equals the enthusiasm it engenders. It’s not a bar; it’s an experience.
A sign above the stage proclaims: “Sunday is FUNday at Stan’s. No one can have more fun in life than we can. If they don’t like it, tell them to go next door. They’re closed.” So to take a break from the mayhem, we did. And it wasn’t. Little’s, the bar down the road a piece, had its own eccentricities. Its fairly unconventional menu presentation required a large chalkboard menu to be balanced on the chairs in back of our bar stools so we had to turn around to check out its offerings. A low-key – very low-key when compared with its neighbor’s entertainment combo — folk duo crooned soothing ballads. Polar extremes in ambiance. And further testament to Goodland’s quirkiness. But it was almost Buzzard Lope time, so we, of course, had to return to Stan’s.
Away from Stan’s, Goodland remains one of the last vestiges of the real Florida, where residents — all 300+ — cling stubbornly to the past and many people visit because of what they don’t find there — such as glitzy theme parks, beaches virtually covered by blankets and natural beauty that has been uprooted and paved over. The tiny fishing village sits atop 40 acres of Calusa Indian mounds comprised of shells, fish bones, pottery shards and other discards.
Stan’s is one reason that while Goodland is a small town, it has a reputation as a village which knows how to throw a party. Throughout the year, the community hosts a variety of events, fishing tournaments and festivals that celebrate its history, local culture, and love for all things seafood. And throughout the week, Stan’s showcases different bands nightly. But if Sunday is the apex of the week’s entertainment, the annual Mullet Festival in January is the highlight of the year’s festivities. More people, if that’s even possible, louder music, a variety of vendors, a whole lot of fresh-caught fish – the bespoke mullet. Over which, of course, the Buzzard Lope Queen reigns.
If you truly want to relax, stop by Little’s. But if you want to experience the essence of Goodland at its most extemporaneous, try to wedge yourself – if you can find room — into the Stan’s experience. For more information, visit https://www.stansidlehourgoodland.com; Paradisecoast.com.
