By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
With the flip of a calendar, it all changes. Like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the hordes of Summer travelers descend on the communities near the water seeking the comforts that come with the change in seasons. Some come for a short respite from the daily grind and uncomfortable weather conditions, while others make it their home for a few months.
Although they bring with them the promise of prosperity for local businesses, many true locals look upon them as an unwanted intrusion. Increased traffic, crowded restaurants, parking challenges and impatience demanding some degree of tolerance. People often vent their frustrations on their community Facebook Forums citing specific displeasures they encounter.
Little did I know that come winter, I would be a member of a similarly maligned community. They have a name for us. No, it is not Shoobies, the uncomplimentary name associated with people from communities to the west of us. The name I am referring to is a “Snowbird.”
Yes, my wife and I have taken to visiting Florida periodically in the winter to escape the cold and found that we are now members of the very group we have to tolerate in our summer months at the shore; the seasonal tourist. Unlike at home, where visitors from Cherry Hill, Marlton and similar regions can sneak in “under the radar” so to speak, since they still display New Jersey tags on their cars, in Florida our New Jersey tags scream “SNOWBIRD” so we must remind ourselves to drive and act accordingly.
Florida has some of the more liberal gun laws in the country so hanging out the passenger window up to my waist voicing my displeasure at other drivers is discouraged. My wife trying to be heard through the windshield is of less concern unless the other driver can see her bared teeth in his rear-view mirror. Yes, driving in Florida is a competitive sport with many drivers thinking they are in a Grand Theft Auto game and others exhibiting various degrees of impairment.
I have taken additional measures to distance myself from the “Snowbird” moniker when heading to the downtown area. Favorite T-shirts from my local surf shops or sports teams identifying me as a tourist from out of state are replaced with golf or fishing shirts. Cargo pants and sneakers are replaced with Bermuda shorts and loafers with no socks. I have even had to work on my New Jersey scowl to a more relaxed, semi baked expression characteristic of Florida natives.
These natives have never experienced the involuntary tensing of their muscles as an icy chill found its way through the chink in the armor of winter clothing to find its way right into their bones.
And just when I feel like I have managed to somewhat blend in with Floridians, it will be time to return home. It will be time to return to that Jersey Strong state of mind; that edge that has become synonymous with Jersey natives. I can drive my car proudly displaying my New Jersey tags without fear of reprisal. It’s good to be a local right up until I turn around and once again be that dreaded “Snowbird.”
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over 25 years. He has worked as a writer, advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photography can be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
