one thing today

what a night of it ... like the Titanic only the opposite  ... one to remember. just might be the fun filled dinner soirée I ever mounted, at least out here. Seven years on. Bryan makes a "boll,  a Louisiana kinda shrimp sausage corn and more high score galore stockpot taste sensation jamboree. Asa and Ry and charming son Carpenter come and we sing, well Asa does, Poor Johnny One note along with Judy Judy Judy. And then later, a little with Marvin. Sexual Healing. Yum .   We begin outside. too windy. I bring in a table from the back porch and marry it to the coffee table. Bryan wears the Perry houses goofy hat and stands sentry, once in a while, serving up a well crafted bon mot. Noreens' mug grows brighter brighter from late day sun.   We talk about  the kidney packed in ice chest delivered to Channel Thirteen instead of Roosevelt Hospital across the street,  Pavarotti, Ray Charles, Blossom Dearie, Bob and Barbra, Rickie Lee, lots of Joni. Asa sweetly...

  My friend Brynne is here at the beach house with a couple of other of my peeps - longtime friends from thirteen ...  from way back in the day. She told me something funny last night. She said when she went to the market she really wanted to buy a watermelon but didn't because she makes it a rule to not do that when she hangs will all white people. I told her I never eat mayonaise when I'm with all blacks.  We bought here a watermelon today.

old smiling woman on the walk at the eastern end of the Grove. Right before the Meatrack. Fat, show offy bushery deep green and preening. We say good morning. She tells me its easy to be happy with this all around us. She's one of the few year round residents. I tell her I've been coming out since 1972 and have only missed two summers. She takes a photo of a cloud, waves goodbye and says "well don't miss another."   I do recall my first impression of here ... way back then. I was with my college housemate and some other folks and we walked along the full moon boardwalk, stoned, at night, with the high greenery making a lush arch around us. Music played everywhere, homes, the bar, the sky. We were on our way  to dancing, laughter, maybe kisses and touch.  It was just the most wonderful full of wonder moment flush with anticipation, friendship warmth, future, promise, right life.  ----------------------------- oh and btw, my friend Lynda can't comment on my po...

Sit alone in your arrangements for residence. S ee you have a chamber to yourself, though you sell your coat and  wear a blanket.  Keep a journal: pay so much honor to the visits  of Truth to your mind as to record them.” In his Journal for 1837 he wrote: This book is my savings-bank. I  grow richer because I have somewhere to deposit my earnings, and  fractions are worth more to me because corresponding fractions  are waiting here that shall be made integers by their addition.

 

  It's 7 in the morning and I am looking out at the very calm ocean and remembering when my childhood friend Kit was here with her husband Tom a couple of summers ago. She had Parkinsons for twenty five years. The following Fall, Tom died. Kit died a few weeks ago. Kit and I were born a day apart. Both in New York City. We sent each other felicitations every August. We first met when we were ten and lived a block apart. My first memory of her was walking down her street to our bus stop. We laughed a lot. When Kit shared her laugh with you it was something to savor. Hers and hers alone. Much like her smile. Even better. True that. She was always up for a funny exchange, a shared secret, a good time. I noticed and enjoyed her lovely shine early on. During our deep, sixty five year long friendship, she made me feel special because she was.  During college, she visited me in Ohio. I felt assured our connection was to continue after our early days. After our tenth year reunion...