Off the Florida Keys…

So I haven’t had Internet over the past week or so because I’ve been visiting my grandparents in Florida. The strange thing about the part of Florida I went to visit last week is that it isn’t inhabited by native Floridans. My aunt and I were staying with my grandparents in a gated community (they don’t let you become a resident unless you’re over 65. Really, I mean it.) just outside of Fort Lauderdale in which they own a condo. They’re snowbirds; they use their condo during the winter months and return to Ottawa once the city has thawed. And if I had to base my impression of Florida on the building in which they live, I’d have to say that the state’s population is made up mainly of elderly Jewish New Yorkers*.

Being Canadian, I’m not really familiar with the Fahrenheit system of measuring temperature, but, while I was there, the daily high ranged from 88F to 100F. My grandparents, who did their elementary school before Canada went metric, informed me that this was really, really hot. They weren’t kidding.

Naturally, my aunt and I decided to cope with this by going swimming almost every day.

I know I called it a “gated community” above, but it’s really more like a giant summer camp for senior citizens. There are several outdoor pools and movies screened every night and a gym and a games room and a golf course and all sorts of stuff like that. So my aunt and I went to the nearest outdoor pool, about two minutes away.

Aunt Diane doesn’t like it when I take pictures of her and makes me pose for one as well, presumably in case blackmail is required.

Apparently, for many elderly Jewish New Yorkers, “swimming” means “standing in chest-deep water and talking about your favourite Seinfeld episode at a volume that hints your hearing aid was not water-resistant”.

I’ve noticed that when most people talk about how cool their grandparents are, they focus on the attributes that make them seem young – “My grandma listens to her iPod!” “My grandpa likes to play Grand Theft Auto!” – but my Bubbie and Zaida definitely couldn’t pass for teenagers. They don’t use computers; they don’t use DVD players. They like to play long card games that take the whole night and eat Shredded Wheat** and watch the Israeli Symphonic Orchestra on PBS. Because they have difficulty getting around in the heat, they also don’t like to leave the house much. And none of that means they aren’t interesting and fun people.

The clubhouse regularly screens movies, and the nice thing about watching movies with people from Century Village is they don’t pick dumb movies I don’t like (lots of explosions! No thinking required!) and, unlike me, they aren’t embarrassed to shout out comments if they’re not happy. (“Quiet! I’m trying to hear!” “Shush!” “Don’t shush me, Harold!” “Both of you shush!” etc.) We saw The Great Debaters, which Denzel Washington directed, and, apart from a mishap where one reel ran out before the next one replaced it (“Oops!” “What, is the movie over already?”), it was really, really good. We also saw a documentary on the plunder of art during the Second World War (The Rape of Europa), which was very interesting but somewhat repetitive; despite the great scope of Nazi art thievery, it also seemed somewhat disingenuous to call it the greatest plunder of cultural treasures in the world when one thinks of the number of African, Asian, Australian, and American works stolen by colonizing European forces that are still in European museums.

One Saturday morning, we went to Deerfield Beach, where the water was clear and refreshing. We didn’t swim, because my grandparents and aunt find it difficult to keep their balance in the perpetual undertow from the waves, but Zaida put up an umbrella.

And we went wading.

Bubbie wasn’t feeling well, so she didn’t come. Also, I learned that sunscreen has to go everywhere.

My grandparents also took us to a bunch of interesting stores and restaurants; their favourite store is Costco and its sister company, BJ’s. They frequent a restaurant called Sweet Tomatoes, a salad bar plus bakery, fresh soup, and pasta buffet, which I really wish existed in Canada because it is an awesome place for vegetarians to dine with non-vegetarians. And, on Mother’s Day, we went to a kosher Chinese food place that was a little more kosher than Chinese***. Bubbie doesn’t like the picture of herself receiving the flowers, so, instead, here’s another beach picture.

Anyway, Florida is fun. There are lots of little lizards darting around through the plants in the gardens. There’s plenty of sun, and everything’s cheaper in American money. And, whatever might be said of ploughing through a holiday break-neck speed and filling it with day trips, I like spending time with my grandparents. So there.

* My grandparents and the other Canadians call them “two-twelvers” in reference to NYC’s area code (212).

** Well, I’m not sure anyone likes to eat Shredded Wheat, but my grandparents do like to eat very, very spartanly (no sodium, no sugar, no fat), and Shredded Wheat is a part of that. Then again, their son, my dad, likes puffed rice. Maybe it’s in our genes to like breakfast cereals that taste like cardboard of various textures.

*** Er, moo shu pancakes aren’t supposed to be Dempster’s flour tortillas. Just saying.