Only With Our Own

 

                                Only With Our Own!

 

         Shangri La is a beautiful retirement community in sunny Florida. It has an 18-hole golf course, a huge club house with a full service restaurant and all kinds of activities for the residents.  It features several swimming pools, a complex of Tennis Courts and everything else one could hope for to enjoy the golden years of one’s life.

 

         People there are happy. They play golf, tennis and many other activities several times weekly. They dine in each other’s homes, meet at community gatherings and in general enjoy the good life. They don’t much socialize with those who don’t live in Shangri La. “They don’t have much in common with us,” most of the residents reasoned.

 

         Beneath the surface of this glittering and happy facade however there were a few rumblings. George and Marissa Wilson, proud residents of Shangri La, sat at lunch one day with their neighbors Alvin and Rebecca Markham.

 

          “Wouldn’t it be nice if we only socialized with our own?” said Marisa.

 

          “What do you mean Marisa? Isn’t that why we moved to Shangri La?” asked George.

 

          “Well, I don’t mean to start anything,” Marisa said.” But don’t you think those who rent in our community are sort of different from us?”

 

          “How is that Marissa?” inquired Rebecca. “You mean they speak differently or act in some manner different than we do?”

 

          “Well, not so you would notice,” said Marissa sweetly. “ I just think it would be nicer if we didn’t have to socialize with them.”

 

         Husband George, who was long used to catering to Marisa’s whims, replied casually.” That’s easy enough. We can quietly exclude them from our gatherings, and play Golf and Tennis only with our own. Will that be better?”

 

         “Oh yes, George. I think so,” Marisa replied enthusiastically. “ It will be ever so much nicer.”

 

         And so it became. Quietly, so none would ever notice, the renters were gently excluded from the mainstream of the small society. Some of them noticed and were offended by the exclusion, others shrugged their shoulders and were glad to be rid of such idle social prejudice. Things went on nicely for the Wilsons, the Markhams and their friends.

 

         One evening at dinner some months later the same foursome was chatting idly after dessert.

 

         “Wouldn’t it be nice” Marissa started, “If we only socialized with our own?”

 

         “What do you mean Marissa?” George asked. “We don’t socialize with renters any more. Who else is different from us?”

         “Well,” began Marissa, “Those folks in the condos are sort of different from us aren’t they?

 

         “How so, Marissa?,” Rebecca asked.

 

         “Well, they live in those small units all crammed together and they don’t appear to have the same values that we do” said Marissa. “ I would really not socialize with them if we don’t have to.”

 

         “That’s easy enough,” said George. And so, they did.

 

         The residents of the condos and smaller units were quietly excluded from the community gatherings and social outings. Some of them were offended by the social snub, other were relieved to be out of such and exclusionary circle, with such curious standards.

 

         The newer and smaller circle of homeowners were happy in their more exclusive society. They dined at each other’s homes and played golf and tennis with their smaller circle, feeling good about themselves.

 

         The Markhams and the Wilsons sat at lunch one sunny afternoon some months later.

 

         “Wouldn’t it be ever so much nicer,” began Marissa, “if we only socialized with our own?”

 

         “I thought that is what we are doing,” said Alvin. “Who is left among us that is different?”

 

          “Well, “ said Marissa. “ I always wondered what we have in common with those folks who only come to Florida for six months of the year,” Marisa sniffed. “What do they have in common with those of us who live here all year long?”

 

         “Hmm, “ said George. “You have a point That’s easy enough to fix.” And, so it was.

 

         The mentioned homeowners, all “snowbirds” who only lived in Florida for six months, were gently removed from their active social circle. Some were offended by the snub, others relieved to be free from the ever more exclusionary circle.

 

         For the next few months, the smaller circle of year-round Florida resident who owned and lived in larger homes were happy. They met at each others homes and played golf and tennis only with their own. The groups were getting smaller so everyone knew each others business. And, so it went for the next few months.

 

         One evening in mid-summer, the Markhams and the Wilsons were enjoying gin smoothies on the clubhouse patio.

 

         “Wouldn’t it be nice” began Marissa, “if we only dealt with our own?”

 

         “I thought that is what we were doing,” said Rebecca.

 

         “Well,” said Marissa, “not really. I wonder what we have in common with those people who weren’t really born here in Florida?”

                      

 

 

          Alvin made a strangled noise as he choked on his gin smoothie. “Well, that would include Rebecca and I,” he stammered. “We were born in Rhode Island.”

 

         Marissa only smiled enigmatically. After that evening, the Markhams and all those others not born in Florida were quietly excluded from their social gatherings. The very small group of people born in Florida, who owned and lived year-round in large homes went on enjoying their new found exclusivity. The Markhams and all others felt the snub but went on with their lives. 

 

         “Who needs this grief?” They asked themselves.

 

         George and Marissa Wilson and the very few others who were “like themselves” played golf and tennis and socialized with each other and were happy with their new found exclusivity.

 

         At dinner, in the early Fall, George and Marisa sat talking quietly. “Wouldn’t it be nice,” Marissa began as George groaned inwardly “if we only socialized with our own?

 

         “I thought that is what we were doing, Marisa,” George said plaintively. “Who else isn’t like us?

 

         “Well,” said Marissa,” I always wondered what we had in common with those folks whose grandparents weren’t born in Florida.

 

          “Whatever you say, dear,” mumbled George. And, so it became. Now there were only the Wilsons and one other couple who shared dinner, tennis and golf in their exclusive group. They reveled in their new found exclusivity and status at the “top of the social heap.”

 

         Then one evening at dinner in early winter, the two couples were chatting.

 

         “Wouldn’t it be nice?” Marissa began and George blanched at what he expected her to say. “If we only socialize with our own?”

 

         The other couple looked up expectantly waiting for Marissa to finish. But she didn’t. She rose and beckoned George to follow her. In the car on the way home, George asked what that was all about.

 

         “Can’t you see?” Marisa asked” We have nothing in common with them.”

 

         “But they are third generation Floridians, who live in a large homes year round, and are like us, aren’t they?” George asked puzzled.

 

         “Certainly not,” said Marissa. “They are Democrats. That will never do.” So, the last couple was excluded from George and Marisa’s social circle. From then on, they ate dinner alone, played golf and Tennis alone and enjoyed the solitary exclusivity of their place at the “top of the heap.” in Shangri La.

 

         One evening at dinner, some months later, in the early spring, George and Marissa sat talking quietly.

 

          “You know, maybe you are right Marissa.” said George quietly.

 

         “About what, dear? “ Marissa inquired sweetly.

 

         “It would be really nice if we were to engage socially with those who are like us.” He replied.

 

         “Well, we are, aren’t we?” asked Marissa.

 

         “Well. sort of,” George replied. “It’s true that we are both third generation Florida Republicans, who live in a large owner occupied house year round.”

 

         “Yes?” said Marisa expectantly.

 

         “Well, actually my family has lived here since before the Civil War.” said George patiently. “If I recall your family’s history, your great grandmother Florence was a Vermont Yankee who didn’t come here until AFTER the Civil war. Isn’t that right” George inquired.

 

         Marissa’s face was frozen in a mask of surprise and defeat.

         “That’s True, George,” she whispered.

 

         “That’s too different for me,” George said pompously and rose from his chair. “I am afraid it just won’t do.” And he walked off into the night. 

 

           Marisa sat alone and thought bitterly to herself, how unfair life could be.

 

 

                                              -30-

 

                                     (1,416 words) 

 

                                    Joseph Xavier Martin