Vampire Village

My husband and I just spent the entire month of March in Florida.  No big deal for some people - but for us - a real big deal.  This fulfilled a large bucket list item. It allowed me to have a taste of what so many people we know do annually-escape the last and most horrifying month of winter (in the single most horrifying winter I can remember) It also provided an opportunity to consider actually moving our asses out of Wisconsin to join the growing mass of now suntanned elderly who have fled before us.

It was an experiment. The results aren't in yet. We're still thinking about it.

One of the concerns I have about moving to Lalaland is a social one.  The older a person gets - the more difficult it is to meet people and make friends.When you're working, friends come with the job ("Here's your desk, your computer and , oh yes, here's your new friend Marge".) We don't really work anymore -at least not the kind of work we used to do.  Joining a church is a good place to meet people (I've been told) - but we don't do that...what church would welcome an outspoken non-believer and a lapsed Lutheran? Volunteering is also rumored to expose people to new friendships but we've been volunteering at a food pantry in Wisconsin for three years and I've never gone to dinner or to Nordstrom's Rack with any one of the people we volunteer with.

 Having friends at our age is important.  Finding them is challenging.

So we considered that perhaps we would visit an "active senior community" while in Florida.  They come with built-in friends, optional planned "activities" and - I've been told - Friday night dances. ( We don't dance but we do watch Dancing with the Stars). Some communities are attached to golf courses.  I don't play - but my husband does.( I do enjoy driving golf carts though and I have clubs and cute shoes and some golfy looking shorts so maybe I could fake it.).

So shortly into week one of our extended trip I brushed up on central Florida "communities" and randomly selected one. (It is not far from a winery so if all else failed I could spend my days touring and sampling).  It was called Heritage Hills...and it did not have a golf course.

Best described as gorgeous, huge, perfect and clearly planned, HH offered "villas" (attached rows of 2 bedroom and 2 bedroom plus den units), and 2 and 3 bedroom detached homes.  Prices varied from the 170's for the villas to 350,000 for some of the bigger homes. There was, of course, the "clubhouse" (where the Friday night dances are held) with game rooms, craft rooms, and the sales office. Somewhere on the property was a pool, a putting green and some other things I cannot remember.

We were joined on our "tour" by another couple who lived nearby and were looking to downsize.  We were led on the tour (in a golf cart, of course) by a salesperson who looked like she had just rolled out of bed and who became fascinated by my curly grey hair. "I should have that hair!" she exclaimed repeatedly. (I offered it to her).

The key, we learned, to a successful tour is to lie and tell the salesperson that you are looking to move ASAP. We did not know this.  Once we (all of us) had established ourselves as "considering" a move, our commission possibilities were immediately diminished and so was the enthusiasm of our tour director/salesperson.  She spent considerable time trying to convince us that none of us would be happy in a villa because it would be too small. "Most people who purchase villas regret it," she explained,  Not enough room. No storage. They always end up selling and then buying something larger." I asked why they even bother to build them if no one likes them and she did not answer.  The game was on.  The other couple looked at me and we rolled our collective eyes. Bonded instantly. My new best friends. Things were looking up!

We toured 6 home styles.  Each nicer than the last.  The best, of course, was way out of our price range. Big shock.  As were crisscrossed the property one particular feature stood out.  On this perfect day, 72 degrees, low humidity, gentle sunshine not a soul was out. No one was gardening, walking, throwing a ball to their dog. No cars. Nothing.Just construction workers busy building the next "phase". Not an elderly creature was stirring (except a few ubiquitous lizards).  "Where is everyone?" I whispered to the other couple.  I asked "Diane" why no one was out.  She said, "Many of our residents still work. Our average age here is late fifties to late sixties."  That did not answer my question but it was the only response I would get.

"Vampires." my husband whispered. "Vampires live here. They only come out at night."

We ended our tour, said goodbye to the other couple (who had decided they would not be downsizing here) and drove out through the heavily guarded gatehouse.  I looked at my husband. "Ummm, not for us."

I think that if we ever decide to make the move to warmer climes, we will buy a regular house in a regular community and take our chances.  Let's face it, at our age people we know have already started to get sick and pass on.  That's bad enough. I don't want to star my new life with neighbors who are already...gone.