Vivid Postcards June 2004

VIVID POSTCARDS
Postcard from Aruba

by Rick Zeolla
June 2004

It's Monday, and I'm in my car for that tortuously long drive to the hotel. Three minutes, if I can find front row parking, 5 if not. My wife constantly reminds me I could easily walk, but that would involve sweating Ö not a good look for the GM. Temperature in the mid-80s, the constant winds (not breeze Ö WIND) lull me (and many unsuspecting guests, un-tanned when they arrive, brilliant red that'd do any lobster proud when they leave) into believing it is actually cooler and the sun not so intense. White puffy clouds trek double time across the sky as I walk into my air-conditioned office to start another day in paradise.

This day is very much like any other. Aruba, a desert island 14 miles from the Venezuelan coast, lies so close to the equator, that the weather is incredibly predictable. Walk passed any ìcurrent conditionsî board at any hotel and you will notice nobody has bothered to change it in months, if not years. They don't even bother to cover the weather on the evening news. (Tomorrow will be beautiful Ö again).

So what's it like to live in such wonderful, perpetual sunshine? Well Ö Paradise does in fact come to mind. No more suits for work. My Hugo Boss, Brooks Brothers collection has been traded for Tommy Bahama Hawaiian shirts and lightweight chinos. Sunglasses, a must, as many guest related issues are dealt with by the pool or at the beach Ö where ever he/she is at the time I'm called to perform my wonders of diplomatic guest repartee. My days are spent running between meetings to cover everything from new ballroom construction to inspecting the latest technology in casino equipment to accommodating yet another construction crane, as it usurps the last of my employee parking. Oh, but did I mention the tennis my wife and I manage to squeeze in, early morning, before my day starts? Makes it all worthwhile.

Seven months into this job I have found the Arubans to be friendly, helpful and all around nice folks. The hotel is a welcome change and challenge, as my responsibilities include hotel, time-share and casino, and a totally different clientele Ö the VACATIONER.

At the end of the day, I find my car and backtrack that long drive home. Some nights we sit by the pool, have a drink and enjoy steaks off the grill, the kids enjoying a late evening swim in the pool. On occasion, we meet at the beach bar, have dinner and the kids enjoy a warm swim in the sea, our dogs rolling in the sand, in what we suspect is a dead fish, crab or rotted seaweed, but they are content. And so are we.

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