Ed and Barb operate a bar out of their house called "The Flamingo Lounge." Jim and his wife had their twentieth wedding anniversary this year, but haven't seen each other in twelve years. These are just a few of the people I met at the Four Lakes Golf Club in Winter Haven, Fla. over spring break. When I landed in Orlando, I was greeted by waves of leathery-tanned faces of retired couples in neon visors and golf polos. My grandparents picked me up outside the baggage claim under the hot Floridian sun, and after exchanging salutations said, "It's burger night at the club."
Four Lakes Golf Club is one of the nicer clubs in Winter Haven, a town with a repulsive amount of golf clubs. The houses are in perfect rows with pastel yellow, green, and blue siding. Each resident receives a golf cart upon signing their lease, which they keep in a miniature garage next to their miniature mailbox on their miniature street.
Cars remain mostly stagnant, resting in studdy driveways as most residents prefer the golf cart way of life. And so, as dinner time approached (approximately 4:15 p.m.), we loaded into the golf cart and headed for "the club."
A line of what must have been over 50 residents stretched from one side of the fluorescently-lit ballroom to the other as they waited to be served their hotdog or hamburger. Grandpa went to get us drinks as Grandma directed me toward some of her friends.
Plastic tables with assorted types of old people sitting in folding chairs scattered the room. Some were tanned wearing flashy tops and dangly earrings. Some were old and frail, hunched over their walkers and taking slow bites of potato salad.
My grandparents don't appear to be nearly as old as some of their neighbors - with my grandmother sporting a short black pixie cut and my grandfather being more mobile than anyone around him, even me at times. But, they love Four Lakes Golf Club. My grandparents are yet to need oxygen tanks or walkers, but after a full life of moving all over the country, this club couldn't be a better fit.
Suddenly conflict arose around me between my grandma's friends. Two tables were supposed to be pushed together and then saved. Two different ladies had been given this task, but after one of the ladies heard that the other had the same responsibility, abandoned her assignment.
"Well will there be enough room here?" one said, one wobbly finger motioning toward the table we were standing near. It was indeed two tables made into one, but a few of the friends were already sitting. "Oh, I just don't know," another lady said, fretful about her whole group of friends fitting at the table. She held her hand to her cheek in concern. "Well, I'll go save this one over here just in case," Grandma recommended. I followed.
Gramps returned with our drinks then notified us that he's going to get in line. The line was slightly shorter than it was when we arrived, and I was starving. I thought to myself that the hotdog I receive better be resting in a golden bun if the line is that long.
Meanwhile, the seating dilemma is solved. We could, indeed, all fit at the original table, so Grandma and I floated over to our original table and joined her friends. Soon enough, my hotdog, which was pretty prime, finally arrived. We ate as my grandpa discussed golf and Grandma gossiped about their neighbors.
I flew down to Winter Haven for a few days to be with my grandparents, who I only get to see a couple times a year. Also, my grandpa's health is failing slowly (although you'd never guess it), so any extra time with him is cherished.
It's hard to explain what exactly I learned during my visit, but I was able to narrow it down. My story about the table dilemma may have seemed arbitrary, but it's the premise. That woman was very concerned about the seating situation. When's the last time you really, sincerely cared about the arrangement of your friends at a table? If you can't all sit together, you move on and remember to be better prepared next time. As college students, especially Longwood students, we have a lot to worry about in a day. We are all generally over-involved up to our ears along with full course schedules and some of us with jobs. Personally, I have to juggle classes, The Rotunda, WMLU, and my job at 202 Bar & Grill, but that doesn't even come close to what some people have on their plates.
This is a reminder to relax. Midterms were crazy, and we've still got a big chunk of the semester left. We'll blink and finals will be here. It was nice to be at Four Lakes where no one was in that big of a hurry and everyone is happy in their routine. Before we know it, we'll all be retired and have silly things to fret about.
Until then, take one day at a time.
