Q Tips and Float Boats

I have some observations about old people in Florida. I just got back from there and it’s very true what they say: There are a lot of old people in Florida. There are so many old people that even the old people complain about the old people. If you’re 70, you complain about the 80-year-old “Q Tips.”  Meanwhile the 80-year-old Q Tips are complaining about the 90-year-olds in their “float boats.”

The thing about the old people in Florida is that they are still doing things. These are not people who have spent a lot of time in rocking chairs. 

They’re everywhere because they’re out, shopping, walking on the beach, eating in restaurants, trying to cross busy streets, riding multiple-wheeled bikes, veering into traffic. They’re dressed in color coordinated outfits with elastic waists, wearing comfy shoes, protected from the sun in visors and hats, and, man, they’re doing it. Whatever it is, whatever’s going on, they’re doing it. I’m sure I spend more time knitting and watching Golden Girls than these people. And I’m really, really, very, extremely young.

I don’t know what they did for a living before they retired to Florida, but they have some money to spend. These aren’t the elderly who will be interviewed about lost pensions, cuts in Medicare, or the rising cost of living on a fixed income. You’ll notice those people never have tans and diamond stud earrings like the Florida old people do. Florida old people aren’t filling up Walmart. They’re sprinting through the upscale malls, getting their hair done in expensive salons and paying someone else to clean their condos.

When we were at the beach this week, we saw an elderly woman in a bikini and an elderly man in a Speedo and a do-rag. And they were not together. Yet.

I have to admit, I envy them a little bit. Not that I want to be them now, but I’d like to be them in about 20 years. They drink a lot, eat a lot, play a lot, they have good teeth (or at least good looking dentures). What more can you want? So people beep their horns at you when you change lanes, who cares? That’s happening to me now and I don’t have an excuse.

Meet me in Boca in 20 years and we can have a mimosa on the lanai together.