Spring Break

When was the last time you went on a college spring break?

Well, as a matter of fact, for us, the husband and I, it was our first.

Fifty years ago, we would have been the right age for a spring break. As it turned out, we had no idea when we decided to rent a condo in South Atlanta Beach, aka Panama City Beach, we were headed into college spring break abyss.

A million spring breakers are expected there.

After all the windy, rainy, freezing days, these old bones needed some R and R in a warmer area. PCB seemed a logical choice.

As we motored into the beach area, we started to see greetings on fast food restaurant signs, “Welcome, Spring Breakers.” What? Wasn’t this too early for spring break?

Upon arrival at our condo office, the manager told us to call him if there was any trouble. As we found our condo, we noticed three large houses across the street with many cars and loud music pulsating through our closed car windows. Ugh, oh, I thought. Police cars, screaming co-eds, gunfire, we could imagine ourselves on a segment of Cops or worse.

By nightfall, the houses fell mysteriously silent and dark. The next day, the music and singing started again.

While walking the dog, we met some of our college neighbors.

They said they were from western Ohio and glad to be here.

When they left Ohio they said it was seven degrees. We realized that the few cold days we have here is nothing compared to them.

And FYI, no police, screaming, gunfire, just a bunch of college kids who mostly would just all join in singing “Take me home, West Virginia,” “Sweet Carolina” and “Sweet home Alabama.”

Lucky us!