Many years ago when I lived in California I had a co-worker
named Ron who lived in Arizona. He used
to constantly complain about “Snowbirds,” the term coined to describe these
retired refugees from the North who invaded the state each year seeking refuge from
the harsh winters back home. Like a lot
of the natives here, Ron wasn’t particularly keen about this annual incursion,
and the subsequent effects it had on his daily life. In fact, he couldn’t wait for May or June to
come along with its triple-digit temps to send these elderly interlopers
packing.
“Oh my God, they are a horrible menace to safe drivers
everywhere! They drive sooo slow, and
then stop on the freeway, usually during rush hour, and wait for someone to let
them merge into the next lane! They will
be the death of us all!”
Naturally I just assumed it was the melodramatic,
insensitive rant of an intolerant, middle-aged curmudgeon. I mean, who would dare take an angry swipe at
the elderly? Now its thirty years later and I find myself living in
Arizona and dealing with the same “Snowbird” issues and, quite frankly, not
liking it a whole lot. Apparently I have
morphed into someone a bit more curmudgeonly, insensitive and intolerant in my
middle age. (This might help explain the
whole Trump phenomena. I’m not sure.)
In fairness, many Arizonans become the very thing they
detest each year when they invade San Diego to avoid the blistering heat here
at home. The San Diego natives even have
a derogatory name for them - “Zonies.”
Nonetheless, I am finally happy to report that our long
Arizonan nightmare is almost over! Complaints
about this rampaging herd of grizzled old senior citizens include their weird
speech, funny clothes, and penchant for inconveniencing and annoying the hell
out of the natives with their poor driving and camping out at restaurants for
hours at a time (and not tipping well, to boot!) Of course reports of this type of behavior
are at best an unfair and blatant form of ageism as most seniors conduct
themselves respectfully and with consideration for others.
Unfortunately we live in a world filled with stereotypes.
For example, some believe that people from the Deep South are dim-witted,
gun-loving, NASCAR-watching, racist, redneck, white trash. This is not entirely true. Others brazenly claim that all women are
terrible drivers. Again, this is an
exaggeration. It’s just that the 92% of
them that have difficulties with the task make it look bad for the 8% that
drive just fine. I’m just kidding, of
course. Women are really super great
drivers.
(My wife told me to say that.)
Another common stereotype is that many people feel that Donald Trump supporters, and
Republicans in general, are hateful, bigoted, self-righteous, insensitive,
hypocritical, lying, ill-informed, greedy buffoons.
Okay, so maybe that last one is a bad example.
My point is that even though stereotypes are wrong and
hurtful, sometimes…well…they sure seem true (even if they absolutely are not)
and it is easy to make generalizations about people, such as the elderly, for
example, but also so completely unfair at the same time. Yet some persist in believing what they will
because of what is happening around them, regardless of looking at the bigger
picture.
Dealing with elderly drivers is nothing new to us in
Arizona. We live near the community of
Sun City, a veritable mecca for retirement living. Many are the times I have
been stuck behind cars at stop lights where the drivers have apparently drifted
off into some quasi-narcoleptic trance.
Honk the horn, you say?
I do, but apparently that only further confuses them.
We are used to them slowing down and putting on their
blinkers a mile ahead of their turn, or using the road reflectors as some kind
of auto braille-type device to try and keep a fixed position on the road. I mean, just because they learned to drive
during the Hoover administration is no reason to disrespect them.
Of course I can’t really blame these elderly drivers for
their poor driving performance. I
imagine if I was similarly trying to navigate my old Lincoln Town Car, craning
my neck to see over the steering wheel past the expansive hood of this
monstrously large land yacht while sinking into the plush leather seats, I too
might not notice that my left blinker has been on since the first Bush
administration.
Okay, so they drive slowly.
And sometimes they swerve into other lanes. And maybe once and a while they connect with
parked vehicles and stationary objects.
Is that any reason to be upset?
And who cares if they have funny accents or end every other sentence
with an “Eh?” In the final analysis,
does it really matter if one pronounces the word “about” as “aboot” or uses the
word “zed” instead of saying “zero?” At
least they are very, very polite about it.
Likewise, you can’t fault people from Canada or the states for not being as fashion forward as those of us in Arizona. Their style is their own and shouldn’t be
ridiculed because it doesn’t measure up to ours. It is certainly not hard to pick out the snowbird
in a room though. Something about him
screams out-of-towner. Could it be the
short sleeve button down shirt with the sweater vest? Perhaps it is the pastel blue shorts hiked
well over his waist with the black oxfords and white socks. Maybe it is the weathered Vikings baseball
cap hiding a silvery plume of hair. It’s
anyone’s guess, really.
None of those things matter anymore, though, as the
snowbirds are leaving us. The grand
exodus has begun, and like the bygone caravans of covered wagons which
travelled Westward bringing settlers seeking a better life, the Spring migration
of RV’s and assorted out-of-state vehicles are returning to their respective
homes to places like Canada, Minnesota, Montana, North Dakota, Illinois, New
York, and other similar frozen wastelands.
At least until the freezing snow, biting cold and sub-zero temperatures
lure them back to our sunny state. Safe
travels, snowbirds!
To quote a certain song by a famous Canadian songstress,
Anne Murray, “Spread your tiny wings and fly away.”
