Flock On!

For those of us in sunny Florida, it’s that time of year again.

No, we don’t have a seriously recognizable change of seasons, at least not in the southern part, where I live. And no, we’re not gathering firewood or shopping for mittens or Radio Flyers in advance of sub-zero temperatures or several feet of the white stuff.

But we do have to prepare.

Because about this time every year, we begin to see the influx of our northern part-time residents we affectionately refer to as “Snowbirds.” Generally, these are retirees from some government job or one of the automakers or Honeywell or IBM or any number of other companies for whom these folks worked when there were still pension plans.

And we welcome them with somewhat open arms. We have a love/not-so-much love relationship with these good people. Yes, they bring money that they spend on our goods and services; that we like. But their presence pushes the already-strained roadway infrastructure to and beyond its limits, resulting in more vehicle tie-ups and doubling our commute times. Further, the wait times at our favorite restaurants are significantly increased and tee times have to be secured well in advance.

When I’m trying to get my kids to school at 7 AM, I wonder aloud where in the world all these octogenarians could possibly be going at this hour? At 25 mph in a 45 mph zone? In the left lane? So yeah, there’s more stress, too.

When I first took over the barbershop, I reasoned that hiring a semi-retired snowbird barber would be an ideal method of servicing the increase in business due to the snowbird customers. Well, it was almost a great idea. Because somewhere around Christmastime, the guy I hired came to me and said, “Hey, we’ve decided to go back home for the holidays, so I’ll be leaving the first week of December and I’ll be back mid-January, okay?”

No.

It’s not okay. This is our busy time of year and I need the help.

But that guy didn’t care. He was on vacation, essentially; making a few bucks to pay for the Early Bird at the Anna Maria Oyster Bar or buying gas for his boat were the only reason he asked to be hired in the first place. I hired another guy one year, a good barber, not so old from Connecticut. But I don’t think he liked me (a few people don’t), and the following year he took a job in another shop.

So I don’t do that anymore.

In fact, year-round business—not just for me but for a lot of businesses in the area—is good enough to keep a high-quality staff on the job full time now. Florida growth is crazy now, and the permanent population is expected to be 75 million by the year 2070. We’re at 20 million today. I’ll be 123 years old, so I don’t expect to be cutting hair then. Or be alive, either.

But that future is on my mind anyway.

It’s also predicted that the number of part-time, seasonal residents will decrease, percentage-wise, over the next several decades. That makes sense; without retirement plans, folks just can’t afford the upkeep on two domiciles.

I’ve also observed that, after a period of time, snowbirds find themselves facing a decision. Their health may be declining or the cost of keeping up the two places becomes financially uncomfortable and they have to decide where to spend the rest of their days. Many choose to go “back home.” The kids and the grandkids are there and well, that’s enough of a motivator. Some choose to make Florida their permanent residence; there really is no substitute for the climate anywhere else.

Some find the happy medium and choose Tennessee or the Carolinas. We call them “half-backs.” (We have a name for everybody).

Some transplanted people spend most of their time in Florida, but head north in the hottest part of the summer. We call them “Sunbirds.” That solution makes a heck of a lot of sense to me, but still requires a financial outlay for accommodations for eight weeks or so, or try to bunk for a couple weeks at a time with family members. Those who’ve tried this method report that their relatives up north quickly grow weary of long-term visitors, even if they are family.

Which is, in a way, how we feel about our beloved Snowbirds. Love to see them arrive; love to see them go. It’s like being in the hospital but also having AFLAC. Yeah, we’re relatively incapacitated, but not for long, and at least we’re getting paid for it. Though probably not enough to purchase a $200,000 motor home towing a Lexus.

But enough for the extra gas we burn while we’re stuck in traffic all winter long.