In our little corner of Colorado, the summer home phenomenon is not all about the wealthy. This subdivision is over fifty years old and those cabins that haven't been sold and converted to year-round use for town commuters, are in varying stages of decay. They are very rarely inhabited by the very aged original summer residents. Usually it's some combination of their children and grandchildren or new owners who listen wide-eyed to stories about the antics of our fathers and grandfathers. Arizonans, New Mexicans, Texans, Canadians, Oklahomans, and the rare native Coloradan all mix it up* for a couple weekends in the summer.
These acquaintances and "howdy neighbor" relations involve those of varying political persuasions - more tolerable because exposure is limited to a week or weekend. That's how I'm now friends with a bible-thumping Baptist missionary Texan. And she now associates with a uppity lefty Liberal. We, after all, have more in common than we do with the bears and enjoy the opportunity to study each other like science specimens.
She asked about what I retired from - government work. What did you do? Is that about entitlements for poor people? I said it involved things like figuring out where to put the water lines and who gets garbage contracts. Then I started getting a little bothered and said it involved asking rich white people where they want their parks. I was talking a little too loud and began morphing into my Mother, who sat on this same patio arguing politics with summer people. Only the quality of the beer has improved.
To be continued...
* I'd say "hook-up" but that would imply interstate orgies, or something.