Teaching Old Dogs New Tricks

The First "DUH" ...

After a series of sad events, a lot of discussion and planning, we did it.  In 2012, Robert and I finally made a move from the mountains and winters of Pennsylvania to The Villages in Florida where every day is a barefoot day.

It's everything we hoped for and more.

The Villages is a Disneyworld for grownups.  Everyone's second car is a golf cart and you have free membership for life in the many world-class country clubs and golf courses scattered throughout town.

You can drive a golf cart  anywhere you need to go, whether it's to a restaurant, one of four town squares for free nightly concerts and dancing, shopping centers, even drive-through lanes at banks and … Dunkin' Donuts!

Robert and I loved going on adventures to see if we could find our way to the many different areas -- you have to understand it's a BIG place -- for instance, there are several grocery stores, shopping centers, drug stores and Super Walmarts, but our favorite Walmart is five miles from our house just off one of the major roads, a road you can't drive a golf cart on unless it is street licensed and ours is not.

We found that out by accident when a Sheriff's car in the next lane backed his car up to ask us what the hell we were doing on that part of Morse Road without a street licensed golf cart.  

We apologized and explained we were new and learning our way around.  He pointed out a golf cart tunnel and told us to get our butts off the main road and into the tunnel ... or get a ticket. That was close ...

Like most, from then on, we used the specially designed golf cart roads, paths and tunnels to wind around the golf courses, individual villages, and shopping areas. You can get anywhere you need to go in The Villages -- but first, you have to know where those roads, paths, and tunnels ARE when you're in a golf cart. There are golf cart maps available in many places.

Anyway, Robert and I set out that Sunday to find our way to our favorite Super Walmart Center, five miles away, just off the main drag.  We did it -- although we learned something very important, too.

On the way home, every time we hit a bump, we heard the blast of what sounded like a car horn.  At times, we heard it without going over a bump, by only taking a curve in the road.  "What the heck IS that?"  We both asked, looking at each other in horror, the noise filling the air around us.

Other folks in golf carts gave us funny looks as they passed us.  We asked one couple if they had ever heard their cart do that.  They shook their heads and said, "No" with just the hint of a smile on their face.

Finally, we pulled off the path into the grass and Robert called the golf cart dealership to explain the problem.  The guy on the other end of the call told him we probably had a short in the horn.  He said to bring it in on Monday and he would check it out.  

Horn?  Hmmm, what horn?

Robert sarcastically asked where the horn was (the guy obviously didn’t know what he was talking about). We had no horn! On our steering wheel, there was only a small clip to hold a golf score card.  There was silence on the phone.  Then the man calmly explained that the horn was on the floor, just to the left of the brake pedal.

Problem solved.  DUH … Robert had been resting his foot there.  I guess you really DO learn something new every day, even old dogs like us.

I do wonder though. How many other golf cart owners don't know they have a horn on board?

Poet/Writer/Author of 5 books.
Quora Top Writer 2018.
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