Tropicana Park, Ft. Myers, Florida. Paul Goldfinger photograph © 2016. Click to enlarge, and please pick up after your dog. This crowd is smiling because the San Carlos Blvd. Walgreen’s has just received a shipment of Viagra (generic of course.)
They also are happy because somehow Irma failed to blow this manufactured home community of nearly 500 units to Kingdom Come. A few roofs were blown off, and some carports fell victim to the winds, but, despite the Gulf nearby, there was no serious flooding. Power was out for 5 days.
So these seniors are able to return to their life of bingo, hot dog parties, competitive shuffle board (where they actually have a verb “to shuffle”…as in “We’re going to shuffle this morning”,) golf, fishing, boating, or just hanging around.
Most of the folks in Tropicana are from the Midwest—–Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illinois, etc. It is rare to see Jersey plates. Some people wear cheese on their heads; others fly green and gold flags (Green Bay Packers colors.) My neighbors are from Kentucky. They call me “Doc.” I’m not sure they know my actual name, although that’s true also in OG where they call me Blogfinger. On the other hand, I like nicknames—–just ask the Groaners.
And they have lots of 3-wheeler bikes and golf carts. There are early bird specials nearby where you can get a lobster dinner for 12 bucks. And the swimming pools (2 of them) are heated, even in tropical temperatures.
Nearby are quite a few fancy gated communities where it’s more of a country club atmosphere. And, of course, the east coast (Hollywood, Ft. Lauderdale, etc.) is another story altogether. There you can get a great bagel and hot pastrami sandwich.
But, in the middle of winter, all of south Florida shares the blessing of great weather, and that alone is worth the journey.
By Paul Goldfinger, Editor @Blogfinger
THE BAND (CONCERT VERSION WITH BOBBY CHARLES) “Down South in New Orleans.”
“Ship’s at anchor, my suitcase packed,
Got a one way ticket, ain’t comin’ back.
Life’s a pleasure, love’s no dream,
Down south in New Orleans.”
I’m afraid you can’t substitute the name Ft. Myers for New Orleans, but you get the idea of heading south for pleasure, even if it’s Hot Dog Day in Tropicana Park rather then the NO version of a hot time.
