Chapter 1, Part 9 - The Drive Down

Mom and Dad’s favorite ritual on the drive to Florida is to stop at the Florida Welcome Center just inside the Florida state line for a free cup of orange juice. It makes them feel like they’ve actually arrived at their destination, even though they are headed to South Florida several hours away. But it is one of those traditions that anyone who does regular car trips would understand – it is just something they have to do each year. A few more hours on the road and they pull into their winter home – Harbor View Condominiums of Florida, home of 10,000 former citizens of other states – 9,998 of whom are over the age of 55.

Chapter 1, Part 8 - The Drive Down

It takes Mom and Dad two or three days to make their way from their home in Pennsylvania to Florida. Now if you don’t already know, I-95 is not the most exciting route in the United States. In fact, after the New Jersey Turnpike, it’s probably the most boring route…until you get to North Carolina. That’s when you start seeing signs for South of the Border. For anyone who has ever driven to Florida, you know which signs I’m talking about. If you haven’t, let me try to explain them here. South of the Border is one of the biggest tourist stops in the most convenient of locations on the well-traveled I-95 corridor. It is opportunely located, just south of the border…of North Carolina. It is a bright enclave of shops, restaurants, arcades, and various other entertainment venues designed as a Mexican village, hence the name. The whole ‘village’ is painted with bright colors – oranges, greens, and yellows, to name a few. And for about 200 miles before you reach South of the Border, there are signs…hundreds of them, it seems, in equally bright colors with pictures of sombreros and corny sayings like ‘Pedro’s weather forecast: chili today; hot tamale’ or ‘Keep yelling, kids, they’ll stop.’ All of the signs also advise you of the number of miles before you will reach this most coveted of tourist spots. Most of the signs are very colorful; some are in 3-D; and a few are actually funny. All of them seem to make the ride to Florida go by a little bit more quickly.

Chapter 1, Part 7 - The Drive Down

When Mom and Dad drive to Florida, they always stop at one of those highway rest areas to pick up some green discount hotel coupon books that are stacked outside the restroom doors. These coupons promise you a night at the Blank Inn (fill in the blank – Days, Comfort, Fairfield, or Knights) for only $39.95 ($5 more for the first floor, $10 more on weekends). The catch with these coupons is that you cannot make reservations ahead of time. These are for rooms that are to be filled ‘day of’ only. Mom and Dad often waste an hour or more of travel time going from hotel to hotel in one of the aforementioned towns before finding one that will accept this coupon.

Chapter 1, Part 6 - The Drive Down

This year, Mom and Dad got lost leaving their hotel in the morning, after a night on the road. Again, I have to believe that the signs leading travelers back to 95 are clearly marked, but I wasn’t there, so I can’t say for sure. The story according to Dad is that he wanted gas and did not want to pay the prices at the stations right off the highway. So he drove into town to pay what the locals pay. I could stop right here and I am sure you can figure out what happened next. Yes, you guessed it. He took the ‘scenic route.’ He made a wrong turn out of the gas station and found himself driving down a road where on the side of the street members of the local Kiwanis club were roasting a pig at 10:00 in the morning for an all-you-can-eat pork barbecue.

“Doesn’t it bother you at all that you get lost so often?” I asked Dad after he told me this tale.

“You know it really wasn’t a bad deal. Only five bucks a head,” Dad answered me. “I should have tried some. But who wants to eat barbecue at 10:00 in the morning?” he asked.

“Dad, forget about the barbecue. Doesn’t it bother you that you get lost all the time?”

“Nah, I made up the time,” he replied.

“At least the town didn’t warrant the ‘Lock All Doors!’ scream,” I told him. It did, however, give Mom and Dad a view of life in a small southern town, and gave Dad a reason to drive 85 again once he got back on the highway.

Chapter 1, Part 5 - The Drive Down

Last year Mom and Dad stopped to visit me at my home in the Washington, DC suburbs on their way down to Florida. I want to emphasize suburbs here for future reference. I do not live very close to the city, and there is absolutely no need to pass anywhere near the downtown on the way to Florida. After their visit, I gave Dad directions to get back to I-95 – very easy and clear. The signs are well marked so you can’t miss it. Really, you can’t. Unless, of course, you’re in your early sixties and on your way to Florida.

I received a phone call from Mom about 45 minutes after they left. “I can see the Washington Monument,” she said. “Are we going right?”

“What?” I screamed. “No, you should be halfway to Richmond by now. You shouldn’t even be going anywhere near downtown Washington.”

To this day, I still cannot figure out how they drove into the city. Even if they missed the well-marked signs, they would have landed in a place nowhere near downtown. Now, of course if they had been visiting me so they could see the sights of Washington, there is no way they ever would have made it into the city so fast and easily.

While talking to Mom on the telephone, I was finally able to guide her and Dad back on the right track. About two hours later, I received another phone call from her.

“Mom, if you tell me you are looking at the Jefferson Memorial, then you should just turn around and head back home right now,” I said.

“No, we just made it south of Richmond,” she answered. “We took the I-295 bypass this time,” she added.

Chapter 1, Part 4 - The Drive Down

Two years ago Dad got lost on the I-295 bypass loop around Richmond, Virginia (or actually off the loop since he never quite made it onto the loop). Dad didn’t think he should venture off I-95, even though the bright green, oversized highway signs for the bypass were clearly marked for points south. (As an aside, it actually used to say ‘To Miami, FL’ on these signs, so people would know not to take I-95, which takes you through the middle of downtown Richmond. But the powers that be at the Virginia Department of Transportation obviously thought signs for a Florida city weren’t necessary that far north, as they have since covered up those signs. Clearly, none of them have elderly parents making a yearly drive to Florida.) So Dad stayed on I-95. Leaving the Northeast at about 9:00 in the morning with a stop for lunch puts you in Richmond right around the afternoon rush hour. Now I understand that rush hour in Richmond isn’t the same as rush hour in, say, Mom and Dad’s native New York City, but it is rush hour nonetheless. So big, brave Dad who minutes earlier didn’t want to venture off I-95 now finds himself in downtown city traffic and decides he’s going to get off 95 and find a shortcut. Let me repeat that. Dad…who has never driven in the city of Richmond before…is going to find…a shortcut.

Now, I believe there are people in this world who can do that – find a shortcut in a city they have never been to before. Let me assure you, Dad is not one of them. To Dad, shortcut becomes ‘scenic route,’ and ‘scenic route’ is usually through the worst part of town. When Dad drives through a bad part of town he always does the same thing. He screams “Lock All Doors!” and Mom puts her hand with the generous-sized diamond ring on it below window level. By the time Dad is done with his shortcut, he has usually added a good 45 minutes or more to his trip. No problem. Dad will do 85 again once he reaches the highway to ‘make time.’

Chapter 1, Part 3 - The Drive Down

Some people who winter in Florida fly there and leave a car at their condo year-round for their use when they get there. Others take the train so they do not have the arduous task of driving over 1,000 miles; they can relax and sleep en route instead. Mom and Dad drive. I’ve often wondered why they drive when they can fly or take the train. I think it’s because: A: It’s the cheapest way to get there, and B: It’s the cheapest way to get there. Not that Mom and Dad are cheap, but they do like to save money if they can.

Mom says they drive because they are in charge – they can stop when they want, eat when they are hungry, and argue in private. Dad says it’s because they are still active enough to drive. “After all, we are considered young retirees. We’re only in our early sixties and are still capable of driving to Florida. Not like those old folks who have to fly or take the train,” he explains.

Now, I’m not so sure Dad driving is a good thing. And not because of why you might think. He is not one of those little old people driving 45 on a 65 mile-per-hour highway. Dad shouldn’t be driving because of the opposite reason – he is a speed demon on the road. He says he drives fast (85 on those same 65 mile-per-hour highways) because he wants to ‘make time.’ The truth is that he doesn’t really want to ‘make time’ so much as he needs to. The main reason being because he has to make up for time he loses when he gets lost. And he does get lost. Every year.

Now, you might ask how he can get lost when it’s pretty much a straight drive to Florida down Interstate 95. And believe me, I’ve asked that same question many times myself. But somehow he manages to get lost every year. Although to his credit, it’s always in a different place.

Chapter 1, Part 2 - The Drive Down

The days leading up to their departure day are filled with talk of Florida. Not facts about Florida that you learned in school, such as Ponce de Leon discovered the area and drank from the Fountain of Youth, or that the state produces more oranges than any other state. No, their discussion about Florida goes something like this:

“When are Phyllis and Herb getting down there?” Dad asks.

“They’ve been down for weeks,” Mom says.

“Ummmm, I can’t wait to taste the matzo ball soup at Nana’s Nosh,” Dad inserts into the conversation.

“Or their pickles either,” Mom replies.

“Do you think Freddie Roman will be performing at the clubhouse again this year?” Dad questions Mom.

“If he is, I’m not going. We must have seen him about 15 times already,” Mom replies.

The last two days before they leave are spent closing up their house. Now, closing up a house for a season may not seem like a big thing, but it is a whole ordeal, according to Mom. Not only do they have to clean the house and lock the doors, but they also have to turn down the heat (not off, mind you, something could freeze and break) so that their low heating bill will help make their trip to Florida worth it financially. Then of course, there’s turning off the water – don’t want the pipes to burst, God forbid. Mom and Dad also have to fill out forms to have their mail forwarded to Florida and call the phone company to have their phone service turned off while they are away.

But my all-time favorite ritual of theirs is pouring bleach into the toilets, and then covering them tightly with plastic wrap. Yes, you read correctly; they cover their toilets with plastic wrap you would use to wrap a salami. Just before they are ready to leave for Florida they go around to each bathroom in their house and lift the toilet bowl lids. Then they pour in a quarter cup of bleach, snuggly cover the bowl with the plastic wrap, and close the lid for the winter. If they don’t do this, Mom tells me that their toilets will be black from mildew when they return home because they haven’t been flushed in months. The bleach keeps the mildew away, and the plastic wrap prevents the water from evaporating, she claims.

Their friends Flo and Irv didn’t wrap their toilets one year, and the toilet in their master bathroom was ruined from mildew and Flo said it needed to be replaced. Although, the truth is it probably could have been saved with an extensive scrubbing. Mom says Flo figured that since they were replacing the toilet, they might as well redo the whole bathroom. (Not an inexpensive proposition, I might add.) Since that toilet incident with Flo and Irv, Dad has put himself in charge of wrapping the toilets. He thinks Mom will wrap them loosely on purpose so that she too can get a brand new master bathroom.

Chapter 1, Part 1 - The Drive Down

The ritual is the same each year. Mom and Dad start laying out their clothes sometime in the middle of October for their yearly jaunt to Florida in December…two months away. Why they start so early, I’m not sure. Maybe it helps to get them in the mood. Their clothes – bathing suits, shirts with large floral prints, and two-piece outfits with sequins and flamingos (Mom’s only) – stay out on chairs and dressers for weeks, until about three days before they are ready to leave, when they finally put them in suitcases. Mom claims they start packing very early so they don’t forget anything. Who is she kidding? If she forgets anything, it will just give her an excuse to buy something new when she gets to Florida.

I ask them why they just don’t put their clothes in suitcases when they begin their packing, since their house gets awfully messy with their stuff everywhere. Mom claims that their clothes won’t get wrinkled this way. As if a shirt decorated with ruby-colored studs and tropical birds would look any worse with a wrinkle in it.