Gary Morse, who with his father built the Disney-for-seniors development, was behind the movement to allow The Villages to split from the old town, go its own way and run its own government.

At the time, the development was considerably smaller and did not dwarf Lady Lake, which was struggling to rise from the post-freeze era of citrus and begin growing.

Morse's plan was premature.

But the former advertising executive knew where he was headed, and the rest of us were just along for the ride. Now that he's a decade closer to his destination, the reasons behind Morse's desire for independence are clear.

That's why, painful as it might be, perhaps now is the time for a second look at a municipal divorce.

The grounds would be irreconcilable differences.

There wasn't much pretentious about Lady Lake 20 years ago when I came here. The Police Department operated from a dollhouse-sized building that fronted the four-lane road and had room for only two desks in the front and one for the chief wedged in the back. It had a swinging gate and a noisy window air conditioner. A woman patrol officer -- Jackie King was among the first in the county -- knew every kid who hung out tossing a basketball in the convenience-store parking lot after dark. When a burglary occurred, she sized it up, drove to the home of the culprit she figured pulled it off, and hauled the suspect in.

While the sophistication level has risen, Lady Lake is still a modest place. Except for the elaborately crafted Villages.

It's a weird marriage, these two pieces of town. While it's had its successful times, those of strife and disagreement have been more common.

That's because the populations and their goals vary so much. Take The Villages. It's a community of nearly 30,000 people, almost all over the age of 55. They live in a place with lots of rules, including one that prescribes the type of plastic bags in which garbage can be disposed of and another that limits the number of canine residents to one per home.

Things are provided for residents, down to the history. Even though the place is built on an old cow pasture, the brass plaques around the community's "town square" detail colorful -- but fabricated -- characters who were "founders" of the area.

Residents crave a hometown atmosphere, and they want over-the-top fire and police protection. Many people in The Villages are less worried about schools -- their children are grown -- than they are about getting the tee time that they want on the golf course and being able to scoot around the development at night in their golf carts.

It's not to say that no one cares about the world beyond the fake gates. There are many fine people who give their time to the community at large and to the school system. But priorities are clearly different from the rest of the town, where young families are becoming a bigger part of the community.

The old Lady Lake, which Villagers call "Lady Lake proper," is reminiscent in many ways of the community it was two decades ago. Many people live in modest houses, go to work in second-hand cars, and have children and public schools at the top of their priority lists.

So what might happen if the two sides split? That's a complicated question that cries out for study. Philosophically, they're already on different planes bound for different destinations.

The three city commissioners elected from the retirement community have wanted the government arm of The Villages to provide more and more services for the city. And they haven't hesitated to shaft the residents in the old part of Lady Lake, as they did when they recently allowed The Villages to take over and subsidize fire service in the retirement community at the expense of the rest of the town, which will have reduced services. That trend is bound to continue.

In the short run, I expect the old town of Lady Lake would have to make the most adjustments after a split. It relies on the retirement community for sewer services, so it would have to find its own disposal. However, neighboring Fruitland Park is about to build a sewer plant on the north end of town, closest to Lady Lake, and perhaps there would be an opportunity for joint ownership. Perhaps those two cities could even kindle their own romance.

The change for Villagers probably would be seamless. Morse built a town -- albeit a company town -- not a development. The one sticking point might be law enforcement, which as a community development district, The Villages government cannot legally supply. I'm sure they'd find a way around it.

The long term is harder to predict.

The government arm of The Villages has sold half a billion dollars in bonds, and residents are on the hook for payback in the form of amenity fees, utility payments and other charges.

Most developers have to pay for pools and tennis courts and the like -- it's just the cost of doing business. They make money through the markup on a house.

At The Villages, the developer makes money by selling the house and then collects again using self-taxing districts he controls to buy all the amenities from himself -- and not at a discount, either.

The result is that the developer is enormously wealthy, and the economic engine of the community development districts has allowed The Villages to become a self-contained city without levying property taxes.

How that will play out in the future when growth slows or Morse family members, who run the business, decide to take their cut and move on, is yet to be seen.

Lady Lake's long-term outlook is rosier. My guess is that the town's "progress" would slow and its focus would change. Residents would see their government become more responsive to the things they most care about.

The town could shed the false "hometown" culture that envelopes The Villages and go back to its genuine hometown roots, complete with kids zooming the streets on bikes, ball fields that are crowded every evening, and even a neighborhood uprising or two in the interest of getting a dirt street paved or a stop sign installed.

Would that be so bad?