At the ripe old age of 30, I'm well on my way to becoming a full fledged snowbird. Accidentally, of course. It all started with my grandparents around 35 years ago. They somehow heard of this community in the middle of Florida that was affiliated with the Free Methodist Church. It was perfect for them. It started off as a campground for retired folks, and over the past 50 years has blossomed into a somewhat normal retirement village. And 30 years ago, my grandparents built a house. As a child, it was a grand adventure for my family to visit my grandparents. We were able to leave the cold of Middle America behind for a brief foray into the 80 degree sunniness that Florida tends to be in the middle of winter. And it's a gated community, so my parents could kick my brother and I out of the house to play without fearing for our lives.
When my grandparents passed away 10 years ago, my parents inherited the house, and thus the tradition of migrating South for the winter. And because I needed a relatively cheap vacation getaway, I started visiting my parents while they were here, as they had visited my grandparents. And as my parents realized when they picked me up from the airport Tuesday evening, this is at least my fifth year in a row that I have visited them here.
Disclaimer, the previous two times that I visited here, I did just about the most anti-retirement thing possible. I ran a marathon. And a half. So I think my days of having blue hair and driving 5 miles an hour are not in my immediate future.
I think I truly started appreciating this place when I was in college. And not just because it offered a very cheap housing option to 4 rather destitute college girls. It's a place to relax. It's incredibly quiet. Safe. And the biggest thing you have to worry about is my Grandpa's best friend coming to say hi at 10pm, wondering what we youngsters were up to. And then the utter disappointment in his voice when we told him that we were going to bed. Apparently, we were too boring for him because he was off to a friends house to play games.
But that trip really defined what this place is to me. It's a place to relax. Where I can sit on the front porch reading a book, and waving to the neighbors as they go by. A place with all of the comforts of home, without the cold weather of home. A place where the clothes that I put in the dirty laundry bin magically turn up clean and folded on my bed. It's the place where old men stand in the middle of the street solving all of the worlds problems A place where I can help my dad hang Christmas lights while wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and go for an hour long bike ride and not break a sweat.
I have to say, I think I love it here.
Taking a step back, and looking at things, I should hate it here. It's a planned community (strike 1) in the middle of redneck country (strike 2) where you can go to the grocery store and see a man in a tank top (strike 3) with a tattoo on his left arm saying "white" and on his right a tattoo saying "pride" (strikes 4, 5, 6 and 7) (and maybe 8), and all around you see bubba trucks and Confederate flags (strikes 9 and 10). With little to no cell phone service (we'll chalk that one up under the positive column for now). And often I am the youngest person sitting at the table, by more than 20 years (most often, I am neutral on this one). Outside the walls of this community, I should never visit here. Nevermind the fact that it's 45 minutes from Disney World (positive column) and 45 minutes from the beach (negative, considering I hate the beach). But aside from the fact that the actual town has way too many chain restaurants, it's not so bad. Oh, and a really awesome tourist trap about 20 minutes away with the largest collection of antique planes in America (huge mark in the plus column, as I am a nerd and enjoy visiting places like that). So, all in all, the area has enough positive features that I don't go insane.
Plus, 80 degrees and sunny in the middle of December, yes please!
I do think I would make a good retiree. You don't really sleep in, but you don't set an alarm either. You get up, and make coffee, without really needing to be in a rush about it. Whenever you're hungry, you make breakfast, and read, and do whatever else you want. And then, if the mood strikes you, you can take a bike ride, or go for a walk, or just sit around doing not much of anything because that's what you feel like doing. You bake when you want to. And you get to invite your friends over in the evenings to have dinner, or snacks, and play games. (I totally cleaned up last night playing 5 Crowns, by the way).
Actually, can't I just retire now?
Oh, you say the minimum age requirement is 55?
Damn, I guess I'll just have to wait another 25 years.
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