Built-In Neighborhood Watch

If you take a look at the demographics of most RV parks, you will find them filled to the brim with retirees -- especially in Florida! While some people in their 30's might balk at the idea of being surrounded by a bunch of older folks with whom they have very little in common, Matt and I have discovered that the 65+ crowd make great neighbors -- because they don't really go much of anywhere during the day.

While we view our "parking space" as a place to eat and sleep and store our stuff while we're off exploring, the retirees we've met treat the RV park as a destination of its own. They stay for months at a time, hang out with their other snowbird friends, and don't seem particularly inclined to wander far from their rigs. They sit out in lawn chairs, gossiping and drinking beer and watching the world go by -- and simultaneously keeping an eye on the neighborhood in the process.

Let me tell you, nothing gets past these old people! Many of them live in the park year-round, they know everyone (usually by first name), and they go on high alert when someone who doesn't belong shows up. They aren't afraid to ask questions, get involved, stick their noses in -- a bit annoying at first, but actually a good thing in the long run.  And some of them seem to do nothing but "patrol" the area all day long, going for endless walks or bicycle rides around and around the park. Thanks to the built-in neighborhood watch system that comes with RV living, Matt and I are completely comfortable leaving our patio furniture, grill, bikes, and other outdoor "paraphernalia" in the open when we aren't home. There's very little chance of anything walking away with so many people nearby. Of course, we're not stupid -- we lock up the bikes and the front door to the trailer. But criminals seem to know that they are being watched and they stay away. In our old neighborhood (when we had a house), we caught a guy trying to steal our car out of our driveway in the middle of the night -- but since we've been RVing, no one has yet tried to climb through our window or abscond with any of our belongings while we weren't paying attention.

The Joy Of A Nosy Neighbor

The first place Matt and I ever stayed was actually a retirement community (one that was kind enough to allow short-term RVers under the age of 65). We arrived just as the sun was setting, had no clue where we were supposed to park, and had zero experience with the "setting up" process. As we pulled in and pondered our options, it was like a scene from "Night Of The Living Dead" -- hoardes of elderly people came shambling out of their RV's, swarming our trailer. Our first impulse was to roll up the windows and lock the doors. However, instead of trying to eat our brains, these kind folks simply wanted to welcome us and help us get settled for the night -- people offering to help us back into our space, set up our awnings, figure out the hookups, etc.

They also wanted to introduce themselves, show us where they were staying, know our entire life's history, and tell us about their grandkids back home. They told us to stop by for a drink later, to let them know if we needed anything, to be sure to attend the "coffee klatch" at the community center in the morning. The RVing "welcome wagon" is a bit intimidating, when it's in full force!  Folks stopped by to say "hi" as we ate on our patio. They asked about our adventures when they saw that Matt and I were heading out for the day. They offered advice when they noticed us struggling with some not-yet-mastered RV task. We were overwhelmed with a profusion of neighborly concern -- they were so friendly it was actually a bit scary there for a few minutes (like a Stephen King story about small-town America gone wrong!)

However, we came to appreciate this amped-up level of community involvement. Matt and I were out and about on a particularly windy day (always a problem for RVers, because your outdoor stuff tends to blow all over the place). We hadn't thought ahead and were sure we would find out furniture strewn all over the yard. But when we returned home, we discovered that a group of tiny gray-haired elves had done us a favor -- our patio rug was neatly rolled up, our chairs and table were folded, and everything was placed in a tidy little pile on the lee side of the trailer. Our next-door neighbor came over and said, "We would have taken your awning down for you too, but we didn't know how to unlatch it." From that point forward, I have never worried about robbery or vandals, a fire or a flood!