There's a politically afflicted yankee in florida, code switching for the in-laws. Bypassing nervous system checks to maintain composure bc the local economy is about to tip over. I am trying to be normal about it
Where we come from, The Elderly all make their pilgrimage to some place warmer. When they leave behind their old lives, the snow bird lands in a tropical paradise with a few bucks to spend. Generations of abandoned children, back home in Minneapolis, Chicago or Milwaukee say, "Folks are good! Mom's last scan was okay, and they have a condo, just a short drive from the beach."
How did they know to build all these tropical potemkin villages, little cheery secondhomes, these little money traps? With the strip malls filled with clinics and boutiques. What a gift for foresight.
Oh, yeah, the retirement villas sprout strip malls like tentacles. The strip malls hire the local kids. Where do they go when they get old? They don't.
Every now and then, an angry ocean will rise up and wash away everything that isnt made of concrete. The sea will do that from time to time, it is a self-cleaning thing. The waitstaff, they were here before the potemkin villages, before the strip malls. Before the hurricane. They have survived many, and to them, it is just another economic crisis that must be survived. It seems too cruel to me, that we live in a system that is crueler than that angry ocean.
Patio umbrellas, chalk-paint sandwich boards, tiki torches. Jobs, homes, businesses. Swallowed by the angry ocean.
But today the ocean is calm, and the waitstaff are doing okay. And the shop boys, bikini baristas, the line cooks. It's been hard since Ian came through, but We're Doing Okay
Generational wealth dissolving like cotton candy on the coast, and they were born in paradise to serve this new landed gentry. Their continued existance depends on their ability to feign servility. They are the serf class necessary for the fulfiment of the american dream. Even for the best, there are no benefits, no guarantees.
For the lowest, they're just as likely to roam, from enclave to enclave, seeking an Ethical Business Owner who will offer them a chance to stash a little something away. Maybe benefits. Maybe they could invest? Maybe go back to school. Maybe retire, and be served instead of servant, at the end of days. Maybe.
The guarantee of comfortable afterlife. Being So Normal, I don't resent tanned grannies for the dignity of their retirement; I only wish that the price wasn't the comfort, stability & dignity of their children, servants and handlers