If you're reading this annual visitors' issue, chances are you're staying in one of our luxury resorts. Even those of us who live here year-round get an occasional taste of their hospitality, whether we're stopping by a hotel beach bar at sunset, treating ourselves to Sunday brunch or checking in for an occasional self-indulgent weekend.

Hotels and rooming houses were among the first buildings here, and they soon offered enough comforts to attract wealthy sportsmen and well-traveled celebrities, such as Thomas Edison and Henry Ford. But those early accommodations pale before today's resorts, where visitors sleep on imported linens, dine from four-star menus and have their most outlandish requests greeted by, "My pleasure, sir!"

A few guests are so taken with our hospitality that they've actually made the hotel their home. Living in a hotel isn't a brand-new idea, of course. Remember Eloise, the feisty little heroine of Kay Thompson's 1955 children's book, who lived with her parents and nanny in New York's Plaza Hotel? Still, long-term residents are a happy few, local hotel managers say; and some, like the quiet retired couple who have been living at The Ritz-Carlton, Naples, for more than a year, prefer to remain as private as possible.

But Robert Weidenbaum, the 37-year-old head of a Miami investment banking firm, is happy to talk about his experience. Weidenbaum checked into the Ritz-Carlton on Key Biscayne in August 2002. "My wife and I were having some problems, and I decided I'd move into a hotel for a week and look for a place," he says. He's been there ever since.

And why not? With a top floor suite that includes a full kitchen, jacuzzi and generous closets, Weidenbaum enjoys gorgeous ocean views and every imaginable comfort. No matter how late he comes home, he can pick up the phone, and they'll send up a meal tailored to his tastes, right down to omitting the olives. He works out in the hotel spa with a personal trainer-no need to make appointments ahead-and has his own parking space and remote control for the garage. A few times a week, he'll pull up in front, and the valets will put away his groceries and wash and polish his Ferrari. The staff even shines his shoes and picks up his clothes from the floor and hangs them back up-dry cleaned, of course-in his closet. When his kids come on weekends, they have the run of the entire hotel, including the pool ("the security is fantastic"). And if he ever gets lonely, he just goes downstairs, where everyone knows him and "will bend over backwards" to see that he's happy.

"It's a little cost-prohibitive," he admits; his suite alone would probably cost $600 a night, and "it's not much cheaper than that" even with his special long-term rate. "The problem is, it's so comfortable and I've been so busy that I haven't been motivated to leave," he says. Is there anything less than heavenly about the experience? Weidenbaum ponders and finally offers: "No matter how many times I ask the staff, they just won't call me by my first name."

Closer to home, Shirley and Irwin ("Toby") Holtzman have been spending half the year at Naples' Edgewater Beach Hotel for more than a decade. Her husband had retired from his Michigan business, Shirley explained, and after a bitter week of subzero temperatures, she announced, "We're not going to do this anymore." Besides, she reasoned, if he was retired, then she should be, too, and though she'd enjoyed managing a large home, she was ready for "a lifestyle change." The couple asked their travel agent to suggest a Florida city with a beach. "We picked Sarasota, Longboat Key and Naples," she says. "Our first stop was Naples and the Edgewater Beach Hotel, and to this day, I've never made it to Sarasota."

They also keep an apartment in Detroit, travel abroad in the spring, and spend August in California's wine country, but Holtzman says there's nowhere they love more than Naples: "It has attracted the most interesting, attractive, friendly people in the world." They love coming home to the hotel, where they have a two-bedroom, two-bathroom suite and a staff that's "like a second family." Their children and grandchildren spend holidays at the Edgewater, too, allowing everyone to enjoy each other's company without domestic concerns. "All my girfriends are so jealous," Shirley admits cheerfully. "While their husbands are playing golf, they're still doing dishes and laundry, and I'm not. It's a luxury you almost can't imagine."

Welcome to the Gulfshore!