Our bright orange Jeep with Texas plates is always an interesting draw for people to talk to me and ask questions. I often forget I have Texas plates, until someone asks me if I moved here from Texas. I find myself giving the abridge version of our move and how we used to live in New Smyrna Beach once upon a time.
This gentleman and I continued to chat, he shared a few more things about himself and I found myself interested in his story as well.
Unusually, it is uncommon for me to have long conversations with anyone at the campgroud, surface niceies are usually the norm, however something was different about this man and I soon would find out what.
Unusually, it is uncommon for me to have long conversations with anyone at the campgroud, surface niceies are usually the norm, however something was different about this man and I soon would find out what.
As we compared notes on life I found out he vacationed for many years in Clayton, GA. This coincidentally, is quite close to our cabin in Cleveland, GA and is less than an hour away. We shared our love for the area and our experiences with hiring people to fix things in our homes.
At one point we shared our experiences looking for homes and I mentioned my husband and I were set on finding a home in Port Orange because of the schools. He had done the same thing when his, now grown children, were school aged, before Port Orange had grown up, to the town it is today. He told me how he and his wife looked and looked for a house, but ultimately built a home because it was cheaper. He went through the same exact process and mind set we did. The most interesting aspect of his story was he and his family lived in their RV while figuring out where they would live. Although, their camper was a lot smaller than ours, and I'm not sure how they did it, I was elated with this small piece of information. He had come to Florida with no plan, just a destination and he built a life here for his family. How ironic.
The big question in my mind was where did he come from? In conversation, I mentioned New York briefly and there was recognition in his face. I was curious, was that where he was from? He did not have a distinguishable accent for me to make any assumptions.
We finally exchanged names. The gentleman's name was Richie and he was also an air traffic controller until Reagan laid everyone off back in 1981. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was too young to remember that on the news, but I empathize with his job loss. I felt a connection having worked at an airport myself and being married to a man who lives and breathes the aviation industry.
He told me one of his clients had a personal shopper who traveled the world for a year to buy carpet for her new Hampton home. Now, how does a person get that job? "I'm going to go buy carpet, see ya in a year!!"
He also shared a foreign head of state built a twenty-eight room house as a vacation home for his wife who only visited it a few times. That all seems so excessive, I would love to get a glimpse into the mindset of the rich and famous. When does excessive become irrelevant and how much money does one need to possess for this to happen?
I learned two things chatting with this gentleman. First, age is boundaryless when there are common life experiences shared. Second, the world really is not very big, and it does not take much to shrink it, when you are able to connect the dots with someone on so many levels.
I hope I run into Richie again with he and his wife make a return trip in October. I want to be sure he knows I shared our chat with world.
At one point we shared our experiences looking for homes and I mentioned my husband and I were set on finding a home in Port Orange because of the schools. He had done the same thing when his, now grown children, were school aged, before Port Orange had grown up, to the town it is today. He told me how he and his wife looked and looked for a house, but ultimately built a home because it was cheaper. He went through the same exact process and mind set we did. The most interesting aspect of his story was he and his family lived in their RV while figuring out where they would live. Although, their camper was a lot smaller than ours, and I'm not sure how they did it, I was elated with this small piece of information. He had come to Florida with no plan, just a destination and he built a life here for his family. How ironic.
The big question in my mind was where did he come from? In conversation, I mentioned New York briefly and there was recognition in his face. I was curious, was that where he was from? He did not have a distinguishable accent for me to make any assumptions.
As our conversation seemed to be coming to a close, we discovered we both grew up on Long Island, NY. As a child he lived in a town I lived in for a few months, he had played near the same train tracks I used to commute into New York City. He then moved to Hampton Bays which is at the far east end end of Long Island, the entire area commonly known as "The Hamptons." I nannied for a brief stint in the small town of Hampton Bays one summer and drove through it many times each summer on my childhood vacations to Montauk. In my twenty something years, when gas was cheap, I took weekend trips out to The Hamptons often.
I understood the area more then most people he spoke with in Florida. It is one of those areas, that unless you have been there, it's hard to grasp the culture that is "The Hamptons."
We finally exchanged names. The gentleman's name was Richie and he was also an air traffic controller until Reagan laid everyone off back in 1981. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was too young to remember that on the news, but I empathize with his job loss. I felt a connection having worked at an airport myself and being married to a man who lives and breathes the aviation industry.
At this point in the conversation, we jokingly decided we lived parallel lives and it was at his moment I knew I would include him in my blog for the day.
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| Hampton Bays, NY |
Richie, ultimately took over his father's construction business, after his lay off, and did work for many high profile clients in the Hamptons. It made me think it must have been a different world back then. The stories about the extravagant tastes of his celebrity clients fascinated me. Those same homes he built were probably bought and sold many times since then and remodeled.
He told me one of his clients had a personal shopper who traveled the world for a year to buy carpet for her new Hampton home. Now, how does a person get that job? "I'm going to go buy carpet, see ya in a year!!"
He also shared a foreign head of state built a twenty-eight room house as a vacation home for his wife who only visited it a few times. That all seems so excessive, I would love to get a glimpse into the mindset of the rich and famous. When does excessive become irrelevant and how much money does one need to possess for this to happen?
I learned two things chatting with this gentleman. First, age is boundaryless when there are common life experiences shared. Second, the world really is not very big, and it does not take much to shrink it, when you are able to connect the dots with someone on so many levels.
I hope I run into Richie again with he and his wife make a return trip in October. I want to be sure he knows I shared our chat with world.
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