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Welcome to Florida By
Arnie Greenberg That's the sign I'd been waiting for. Big white letters on a blue background with palm trees and what looked like a huge orange. It greeted me as I crossed into Florida. Overhead the sun was shining and the temperature, even at that early morning hour, was a balmy 75 degrees. After cold rain in NewYork and again in much of Georgia, it was as though I was being welcomed to the "promised land." (Entering Florida was like being welcomed into the "promised land")
Well, perhaps I exaggerate, but after two-and-a-half days of crowded roads and over 1,500 miles, I was ready to set foot on the state of my destination. Inside the visitor's welcome center I was ready for the fresh orange juice offered by a smiling committee of one. The trip down was tiring. What lay ahead would be sheer relaxation. Florida Was All That It Promised I had mixed feelings about driving to Florida. First of all, the trip would last more than two long days, and I worried about how I would spend my time in this "paradise for seniors." As it turned out, I had little to worry about. Florida was all it promised to be…but there were things that I felt a little uncomfortable with. I could have flown down from Montreal, my hometown, in three hours, but I knew that in Florida you need a car. So even with the cost of two nights in a motel each way and meals in restaurants, I would at least have my own car to get around and there were things to be seen along the way. I remember from previous trips how far it could be to go shopping, to a movie or to visit friends. Back home, such distances are prohibitive. The drive through the Adirondacks of New York State was pleasant, even with the threatening rain. A stop in Cooperstown at the Baseball Hall of Fame was rewarding but of only passing interest to my wife. The battlefield sights at Gettysburg in southern Pennsylvania and Harpers Ferry or Manassas would have to wait as we were trying to get into the sun. Luckily for me, I had visited these places before and might stop at Lynchburg and Appomattox on the way back. Turning South Towards the Sun We headed for Highway 95 and turned south towards what we hoped would be the sun. We passed cars, vans and mobile homes from The Garden State, Empire State and New Hampshire, whose license plates announced, "Live Free or Die." The motel offerings included Super 8, Econ-o-Lodge, Days Inn and the usual Hampton Inn, Holiday Inn, Comfort Inn and Knight's Inn. The puns and play on words did not escape me. And clustered around these standard havens were the usual Roy Rogers, Hardees, Pizza Hut, Denny's and Waffle Hut, not to mention the KFC, Big Mac and Burger King outlets. Our choice was often a chain of Cracker Barrel restaurants, strategically located, offering breakfast all day and a collection of souvenirs, candied from my youth like BB Bats and jaw breakers in an atmosphere of 'down home, memorabilia like washboards and framed sepia pictures of grandma and grandpa in plain oval frames intermingled with pitchforks, shovels, milk barrels and old metal road signs. Hash Browns Done Just Right One announced gas at 17 cents a gallon. I shook my head in disbelief. How times had changed. But the service came with the inevitable smile, and the food was hot, plentiful and conservatively priced. My hash browns were done just right. The macaroni and cheese was perfect, but how can you spoil macaroni and cheese? I was pleased to see them replace my finished coke with a free refill. I left there quite pleased. We quickly covered North Carolina and started to see the inevitable signs announcing South Of The Border. This was once a simple motel on the South Carolina border. Today it is like a mini-wonder world offering games, souvenirs, food and a place to stay where the kids can have fun, too. Their signs posted every mile or so were very "punny." They all showed Pedro in Sombrero saying, 'Pedro don't shoot ze bull' or "Free- Air, Water & Advice." One said Pedro was a 'roads scholar' and one said, 'You'll be tickled Pink'. I was, indeed, only when I had passed the place, even though they offered 'True Grits.' It was too corny for my tastes, but it wasn't only South Of The Border that used puns. One Orlando, Florida resort offered a 'Stay near Mickey for a Minnie Price.' We decided to pass. We saw adverts for Pecans, cheap gas at almost $2 a gallon, oranges by the sack, holiday homes, golf courses and local diners that boasted, "You never sausage a place." Free Orange Juice in the Sunshine State Finally, after a night at a modern Comfort Inn that offered a $10 discount because they had no elevator and all the downstairs rooms were sold out, we arrived in the Sunshine State. Free orange juice, maps, folders and discount coupons filled our plastic trash bag to 'Keep Florida Clean.' (The Pompano Beach area near Ft. Lauderdale in South Florida has many beachfront hotels from which to choose).
The pre-Thanksgiving traffic flowed at a cool 120-130 mph, but the highway was wide, smooth and away from towns. There wasn't much to see, but we did move down the state quickly. Even the State Troopers were few and far between, but they were usually present to help those unfortunate vehicles that were disabled or needed roadside help. Maybe it was because it was almost Thanksgiving and people were in a hurry to get home, but I was amazed that no matter how fast we drove, someone always passed us. On the Golf Course at Pompano Beach Finally, we arrived at our destination high above a beautiful golf course in Pompano Beach. We watched the graceful egrets standing in the water hazard below us, then hastily unpacked and headed out to do some grocery shopping. This was an experience for us as we found so many things on sale and the variety of items was staggering. (South Florida is a golfers paradise, with many fine courses)
In the shops and around our condo, I saw mostly octogenarians, some with walkers. As a matter of fact, most were dressed to go out to their favorite restaurant in their Cadillac's and Lexus or BMWs. It was only four o'clock, but there are always crowds lined up for the 'early-bird specials'. I've been here for three days now. I've had time to read three or four local newspapers, including the flyers that came with them. I realized that the adverts often offered chiropractor, dental, medical and seniors services. There are places that offer elder care, senior residences equipped with nurses or a medical staff on call, early bird specials, senior discounts at stores on certain days, executive golf courses for those who want par three courses and discounted charges for those over 55. Some movie theatres are only $3 if you are over 50. That would be useful for most of the residents and visitors. I personally accept the discounts but feel as though I'm too young to be here. Then I look in the mirror and check my birth certificate and realize that I fit right in. Living the "Golden Years" What can be bad about a place that caters to the senior crowd, that offers specials and discounts, and comfort and ease. After all, we all worked for these "Golden Years." We earned the right to play or doze in the sun while our children toil in the northern snows. Besides, what would I do at home? All my friends are here doing what they worked hard for. They are relaxing near the ocean or at their pool, playing golf or taking courses at the senior center. Last night we had Thanksgiving dinner with old friends. Tomorrow we'll play golf. Seniors play for $12. On Sunday we'll join friends at The Sweet Tomato for a delicious "all you can eat" meal discounted to $6.49 for seniors.
(You can "shop 'till you drop" at the many farmers' markets around the Ft. Lauderdale area, each filled with individual booths offering everything from ladies purses to jewelry. And if you're hungry, how about a knish to remind you of New York!) We'll shop 'til we drop, play bridge, swim, walk and enjoy early morning tennis. We'll read about the weather up north and smile. We'll even sleep well in our air-conditioned home away from home. I can easily get used to this. It's not so bad. Actually, it's a wonderful thing to know that in our retirement years we have a place to go where it's warm and where the activities match our skills. I'll keep bumping into my old friends as long as I'm here and that's good, too. Yes, Florida offers something for retirees and their families too. Come on down! (Click
below for more travel stories).
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