Early October 1998, I moved into a position requring I attend a two week training in Miami, Florida. I met a local in class with whom I instantly connected. He nicknamed me ‘Wonderboy’ for some reason, and he was thereafter known to me as Billy Buffett. Between Parrothead bumper stickers adorning his van, his unfiltered anti-establishment persona and affinity for Margaritaville and the Florida Keys, there’s no more appropriate monicker. Buffett would become my lifelong friend, despite never seeing him in person again. Until recently.
We stayed in contact, keeping up on growing families, the dramedies of law enforcement careers-in-common, and (later) text messages and emails with pictures of kids, grandkids, fishing, the Keys, and other harassing reminders of the superlative year-round weather in south Florida. He knew how to hurt a guy…
Fast forward to a few months ago when plans began for a senior trip. Certain it would be a cruise, Caribbean all-inclusive, or rare international trip, I expect it was anxiety about sailing the seas on a floating Petri dish, fear of flying over those seas, or fond childhood memories of trips to the land of blue hair and beaches that ultimately led my daughter to declare Florida was her destination of choice.
The Plan
Above all, I wanted it to be a fun family vacation that would become a special memory for our daughter. Not only because of her senior year, but because I was one of two men in her life who had broken her heart. I wanted this to help show her how important she is to me; how much I love and adore her; that even though men are jerks, some of us will work hard to make amends and earn forgiveness; and that I take the perpetuity of our unbroken family unit seriously. But that’s for another blog.
I’m not cheap, but I do work hard to be practical, save, and spend wisely. Value for my dollar is important. Primarily a single-income family and some unplanned expenses helping others meant this trip had to be a low-budget operation. As such, creativity was key so this didn’t end up another Griswold family vacation. It was time to phone a friend.
Proximity and years of tormenting reminders of his ready access to boating, beaches, and fun brought Billy instantly to mind. Besides, we had been trying to coordinate a visit since I left late-90s Miami. After considering a few illogical itineraries, it was settled that we would road trip to Miami and spend a couple days visiting Billy’s family before driving up the coast to spend the balance of our time throwing money down a magical mouse trap.
So far this probably has you thinking this is a back-to-school essay on how I spent my daughter’s vacation. Here’s what really happened…and the point of all this.
With a carload of luggage and estrogen, my wife, daughter, her best friend, and I drove to Miami. The trip was filled with love, laughter, social media updates, and a surprising amount of gastrointestinal vapor. Billy and his family opened their home to four strangers, creating displaced sleeping arrangements for their beautiful daughter, a stressed-out cocker spaniel, and the disruption of normal routines.
They were exceedingly gracious and kind. They treated us to dinner in the beautiful city of Hollywood; cruised us through the Art Deco and pretty-people filled streets of South Beach; took us boating where we fished, swam, people-watched, and danced to blasting ‘booty music’ on Haulover Sandbar; shared life stories and local history; and drove us to Key Largo for lunch on the water and a glimpse of Uncle Tony’s beachside bungalow. But their generosity had just begun.
I Billy’s Childhood Home Upper Matecumbe Key
We left our friends to venture north. After a night on the beach in Melbourne, we spent the rest of the week at an incredible vacation resort in Orlando…courtesy of Billy and family. Yes, courtesy of. Who does that?
I can’t articulate what real love and friendship should look like, but I certainly hope I can live its example even half as well as my long-distance friend.
Vacation perfection was within reach were it not for one exception. It wasn’t until that first morning wake-up…in a strangers house 1400 miles from home…that I realized I didn’t know him as well as I thought. “By the way, Wonderboy, we don’t drink coffee. Sorry. I hope that’s not a problem.”
What the…?!?!?
It actually did turn out to be one of the most memorable vacations ever. And it was possible ONLY because of the generosity of a friend I made over 20 years ago. A friend who, when I argued against gifting us four-and-a-half days at a resort, said “I’m not doing this for you. This is our graduation present to your daughter…you’re just tagging along.”
I say again, who does that?
Thank you Billy, AMA, Elizabeth, and Zack for making our trip so amazing. We love you.
Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.
Post script: My daughter said I was a lot more laid back sans coffee, anyway.