Margaritas were being poured poolside, prompting our neighbor’s adult daughter to compare our community to a college campus. It’s a common remark and an observation I’ve made during our first year here.
My husband, Billy, and I live in a 55-plus development in Delaware, named Independence for its colonial theme. We relocated from Long Island four years ago to be close to the Atlantic beaches, not far from family and a nicer life. Little did we know how much we would enjoy our new life!
The most obvious similarity between residents and college students is a penchant for partying. Frat parties have been replaced with clubhouse Friday night Happy Hours.
Unlike yesteryear, when wild was the norm in the dorm, we now drink and assess with caution if another Old Fashioned will trigger A-fib. (Can Benefiber Martinis be far behind?) And though we need to pee more often than our college-age counterparts, it doesn’t thwart our enthusiasm for late-night gatherings.
Both groups, college kids and us older kids, have left home and revel in the camaraderie of new friendships that may last a lifetime. Instead of dorm rooms, it’s state-of-the-art houses on manicured grounds. A cozy Coastal Grandma vibe permeates the open concept layouts (think Nancy Meyers’ films), with space to chill and chat, eliciting an “always-welcome” atmosphere, much like college dorms.
Three women at the Grand Canyon
A wanderlust for group travel is another common denominator, though nowadays river cruising beats backpacking. The Douro, Danube, Rhine. Tours of Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Banff. Whether it’s eight of us, like our Las Vegas/Grand Canyon trip, or 30+ that cruised the Caribbean, there’s a trip on the horizon.
Yet, it’s great to get home again for more group activities.
Similar to frat houses, block parties build camaraderie, turning neighbors into friends. This summer, our street hosted a Jimmy Buffet celebration. Over 50 parrot-heads dressed in island attire, enjoyed cheeseburgers in paradise and grilled shrimp and other goodies.
Summertime in Indy, the nickname we have given our residence, is sublime. Plenty of pool parties with bands playing and the clubhouse serving pub grub and beverages poolside. Music, mingling and chilling — like the best of our college days. In the pool, I let the current take me on my float, drifting by pods of conversations, the sun glinting off sunglasses on smiling faces. I hear snippets like this: