Back at Home (Briefly)

A couple of nights ago, we returned from a very nice visit at my aunt and uncle's place. After my sister flew out on Saturday, we did nothing but eat a ton of really rich food, lounge around, and take in the spectacle that is The Villages.

On Christmas Eve, we tried to get together a proper Bocce Ball tournament. We were a little pressed for time to have a proper tourney but gave it our best shot. Evidently, when you retire, you get damned good at Bocce; nobody could beat my aunt and uncle.

I gave it my best shot but my aunt, in red, was unbeatable.

Dad and I managed to play 27 holes of golf on some executive courses near my aunt and uncle's place. On Christmas day, the golf is free. Pins are in the holes but the clubhouses are closed and the course marshalls are absent. It was a pretty nice gift. When you play earlier than the retirees, you have nobody on the course either before or after you. It was bliss.

My dad, owning the links.

So, we had a nice time, relaxed a great deal, and ate too much. It was, I suppose, your typical holiday with family.

You Know You're In a Retirement Community When...
My aunt and uncle gave us a very thorough golf-cart tour of The Villages. We saw everything from the rec centers where dancing, plays, and concerts occur to the town squares which host free nightly live music, retail and restaurant spaces, and a movie theater. My wife and I decided that we'd take a little time for ourselves and sneak off to a movie. We'd wanted to see "Into the Wild" and it was playing at the local theater. As strongly recommended to us, we presented our Villages Guest ID at the ticket window and received our discount. We grabbed popcorn and rushed into the small, sparsely populated theater. By about 30 years, we were the youngest folks there. At some points during the film, I thought we were in a Miracle Ear commercial with some really loud comments made about what was occurring on screen. The clincher happened after the movie...

As we're making our way out of the theater, we stop and chat with the ticket taker. He was an older gentleman who asked us what we thought of it. So, we spoke for a while about the movie and the book. After wishing him a good night, we made our way into the main lobby. We were right behind a much older couple who were walking in the same direction. Without warning, one of them -- we don't know which -- ripped a sustained, audible fart. Then, in a maneuver that reminded me of the Blue Angels breaking a tight formation, they split for the restrooms.

"Well," I said, "we know we're in a retirement community now, don't we?"