Beach Blanket Bingo-ing Home Quickly

When Eddie and I were basking in the Hawaiian sun, we realized that we'd never been to the beach together before that.  How is this possible?  We live on an island.  So on our anniversary, he made a plan to go to the beach. Then he made further plans like mini-golf and a restaurant because he wasn't so sure we'd stay long at the beach.  Because we get bored.  "We" here means mostly him.

We packed up our chairs and a bag of towels and snacks and sunscreen.  I brought a book for entertainment called Would You Rather.  We hopped on the parkway and were soon at Point Lookout.  Parking was ten dollars.  I remember when it was like four.  I haven't been to the beach in a while.

I'm getting kind of obsessed with these wind thingies.

He's there to make sure you pay the ten dollars.

We parked and walked to the beach.  Then we walked more.  And more.  The beach is a lot wider than I remembered mostly because the beach in Hawaii is so much more narrow. Basically it's a bit of sand and then there's the water.  Here it's endless dunes to trek over.  We saw families with carts of stuff.  Wheels are helpful when you've packed an entire day's worth of stuff to do. We didn't have a cart. I would have liked one. 

We walked to the waterline and put our stuff down.  We lounged in the sun.  Then I heard crinkling.  I opened my eyes to see Eddie eating potato chips.  It was like 10 AM.  He was bored.  So I took out my book and started asking him Would You Rather questions.  Then he asked me some.  Then I asked him some.  Then he didn't want to read anymore so we walked to the water.  We avoided the seagulls that were about the size of turkeys, no joke.  We went back to our stuff and I layed on a towel this time and I could swear that the sand was moving under me.  Eddie took pictures to pass the time.

Loungin before boredom

We don't know these people.

This is my hand and the top of my head and towel.  Nice shot.

Lots of sand before the beach

Bright!

Then we walked to the water again and I collected some shells.  I even got my feet wet up to my ankles.  We then had to walk back to the chairs and let my feet dry.

We were done with the beach in about 45 minutes.

So then we headed home to take our second showers of the day because we were sandy and sweaty.  I don't know how people stay all day.  Then we went off to the diner because I was jonesin for some diner food. 

I think the kitchen was hot.

Love the placemat

After that, we played mini-golf in the park.  It was a tight race.  We tied.  How does that even happen?

We were exhausted and hot from being in the sun all day. To chill out, we swung by Dunkin Donuts for a smoothie for me and a donut for him.  He doesn't drink smoothies so it was a comparable substitute.

By the way, the DD stuff was free :)  That's what I call anniversary happiness.

Dancing In The Rainlight

After a long hiatus because of Jean's retirement and my back aches, I returned to Jones Beach.  Line dancing.  It's still happening.  It's free.  It's at the beach at night and that's my favorite beach time.  It was good to get back, and now it's kind of like a weekly thing.

The first Wednesday, Eddie and I got to the boardwalk around 7:30 and the dancing had already begun.  It was packed.  We ran around to the far side and came onto the dance floor (aka concrete at the bottom of some bleachers) and everyone started a dance they'd just learned. 

Eddie does not line dance.  He's more of a two-step guy.  Like when music comes on, he steps to the side and then back to the other side.  Two steps.  To the beat.  Simple.  So when the music started, he was like, What do I do?!?!  I was like, I think you should go sit down!  It was the best solution as I jumped in and picked up the dance because it had only like four eight counts.  And as soon as I started dancing, I realized how much I'd missed it.

When that dance ended, the instructor started to teach a new dance.  Eddie came onto the floor.  He went through the entire instruction, which is not to music.  It's only counting.  He's good at math stuff.  Then the music came on and he did a total of two eight counts.  Then he sat down on the bleachers.  Enough dancing for him.  He decided to become a cinematographer.

I'm looking at my feet because I'm learning a dance.

Our backs are to the instructor so I'm taking a peek.

Really intent on picking this up.

He then became the designated stuff-holder, agreeing to hold my wristlet and sunglasses as the sun went down.  Additionally, he started using his undercover detective skills to find this happening:

This is a woman recording the line dancing, hence recording me.

The recording and picture taking happens a lot, so I must be in quite a lot of pictures and videos, looking my best in my groovy sweat.  The humidity has been lingering way into the 9 o'clock hour, even at the beach.  The upside is the breeze.  It usually sweeps down and through the dance floor.

When the night was over, I couldn't stop smiling, so Eddie decided we had to come for every last one until they ended, and he would do something productive--bring his bike to ride.  Yeay!

One week, it rained.  Like drizzle that we danced in into heavy downpour that we hid from.  That rain made this:

Looks like a tornado about to happen

Between downpours

When the first rain hit, he sped back on his bike to find out what I was doing.  I was hiding under an awning nearby but had to chase after him on his bike to let him know where I was.  He was carrying my phone and basically everything else in his backpack, so we were kickin it old school--designating a time and place to meet up.  Only we didn't have a rain plan, so now we had one--I'd be under the awning when it rained.  Other dancers took to huddling on the stage where the DJ and instructor were.  Finally, as the rain let up, they brought the speakers in under the stage ceiling in case more rain came.  More drizzle came but nothing that stopped us too much.

I've found that muscle memory is the best memory.  While I've been learning new dances to stuff like "Shut Up And Dance" and "Honey I'm Good," I've also remembered older dances like "Country As Can Be" and "Boardwalk Time."  Some of those dances have tricky sequences like a serpentine or weave, and I've found myself helping the dancers around me, who basically tell me that they are watching me, to which I reply, Just don't follow me when I mess up, and they say, You don't mess up.  But then I do and then everyone does, and I act as if I didn't mess up, which pretty much screws up their dance but they were warned.  This past week, I got up during the break to dance to a longer and more complicated dance that I knew a few years ago, and one of the dancers who must either take a class with the instructor or take classes or teach elsewhere was helping out her friends by pointing and calling out the moves.  I just followed her and it all came back.  I probably can't do any of the dances from memory if I hear them in my house, but I'm back to picking them up immediately as I learn them.

Unfortunately, the summer is coming to a close. There's one more week of line dancing, and then a final week dedicated to Zumba.  I've always wanted to try Zumba (I have it on the PS3, but I'm guessing live is a little different), but it's after I start working back on campus again, so I don't know if I'll have the time.  Plus, I don't want to lose the choreography in case line dancing pops up somewhere and I need to jump in.  Because, you know, that happens.

TR 2016!

A great shot by Anthony Rau, photographer extraordinaire

Teddy Roosevelt was a great citizen, soldier, and president, and if he were alive today, I'd vote for him for eternity.  Plus, he had a really neat house.  It's not air conditioned and there are a lot of animal heads and rugs everywhere, but for the most part, it's neat.  It's also a whopping ten dollars.  However, if you don't want to see the steamy inside of Roosevelt's actual digs (now that sounds dirty), you can walk the grounds of Sagamore Hill and check out the Orchard house for free.  That's right. FREE.

My brother and I first went on the nature trail that led us through some steep hills and buggy terrain.  Buggy for him.  He spent most of the time swatting at his ear.  He was wearing bug spray.  I spent no time swatting down the hill and was wearing none.  The path led to an incredible beach.  We walked over the bridge thingie that had the shells of mussels washed up in the mud under it--indicating just how high high tide can be--and onto the sandy part of the beach that quickly became rocks because all North Shore beaches are rocky.  Because the temperature for our day-tripping adventures always soars, the warm wind felt really good and we stood there for a while, knowing that back in the forest, there would be no breeze.

Anthony Rau photography

Follow him on Flickr

AR

AR

Back in the forest, there was no breeze.  Uphill, the bugs started to get to my ears this time.  Probably because I was sweating profusely, which is a now a standard part of hanging out with the sibling.  I sweat a lot.  And uphill on a steep incline encourages it.  Plus, the two of us don't know how to walk casually, so we were kinda sprint-walking through the woods.  Even so, we noted the really tall trees and I saw pretty butterflies all over.

AR -- we got pics of trees but not butterflies because trees don't fly

At the top of the steepness is where the Orchard house is.  It has been converted into a museum about Teddy Roosevelt's life and career, and it has Before and After photos of the restoration of his actual house.  This building is air conditioned.  Ahhhhhhh.  A/C.

After that, we walked across and down the pathways to find some of the smaller structures like a chicken house that had tools in it instead of chickens.  We also saw a windmill.  Passing his house before our tour started, we followed the map to a trail that would take us to the tennis courts.  At the beginning of the path was  huge sign that advised KNOW YOUR ENEMY with photos of ticks.  Ugh.  We decided to tempt tick fate and dove into the woods, not knowing how far we'd be going because the map was not to scale and the grounds are adjacent to actual houses and figuring out private residences versus Sagamore Hill was tricky.

Note that the sign faces the grass we are supposed to keep off.  We were on the grass when we read the sign.

And we were on the grass when we took this picture.

AR who loves a great sepia shot

Thinking the whole time this can't be right, we came to the bottom of a hill.  You see, the thing about Sagamore Hill is that it's not just one hill.  It's many.  And every time you walk down one, you realize at the bottom that you have to walk back up.  It was a workout of a day.  PLUS we got to play tennis.  Because we found the tennis court.  Which means we found a sign that says This Used To Be A Tennis Court And It's Now Overgrown With Plants.  I'm paraphrasing, but that is basically what it said.  Ohhh, so it's not an actual tennis court.

This is how my brother plays tennis.

Uphill we went and found the pet cemetery where several dogs and horses had been buried.  We then found a bench and took a load off while waiting for our tour of the house.  As the time approached, we sat on the rocking chairs on the porch.  Then we stood up to let old people sit down, and instead some kids sat down.

Standing where TR stood when he gave speeches

AR

AR who also loves a black and white

AR

AR

Our tour began with a volunteer who told us it was her first tour.  Yeay for her!  She was nervous and promised to find out any answers to questions that she was not sure of.  However, she knew a whole lot of stuff and lots of gossip. We checked out rooms with the aforementioned animal heads and walked through small halls and staircases.  We learned about TR's family and the rules of the house (dress up for dinner and don't be late! otherwise you eat in the kitchen!).

TR's typewriter

 Then she was telling us some tales of his oldest daughter Alice when she got stuck on a name--Henry...Henry...Henry....

My brother the history teacher piped up: Henry Cabot Lodge?

Yes! Yes! Who said that? Yes!

I pointed to my brother and he raised his hand and she said, Thank you, my friend! Yes! Henry Cabot Lodge!

Fast forward to the final top floor where the guest bedroom is.  She asked from across the hallway, Where's my friend? Guess who stayed there!

My brother the history teacher suggested: Henry Cabot Lodge?

Yes! Yes! And what did Henry Cabot Lodge say when he stayed here?

An odd question.  My brother the history teacher guessed: Good night??

The lady in front of my thought that was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard.  Henry Cabot Lodge apparently said that he hated staying in that room because the house was too noisy with lots of people always running around on the uncarpeted floor.  One of the other women on the tour remarked that the carpet looked new since the last time she'd visited, and the guide said they'd put new carpet down during the restoration. I asked my brother why you would come here twice since the history stays the same.

The tour finished with another woman behind me telling me to tell the guide to slow down.  I don't know why I was in charge of that, so I didn't tell her to slow down because the tour was over and the next group was already in the house.  Tours are limited to 14 people, so slowing down really isn't an option.

On the way out, the guide thanked her new friend, my brother, and I remarked that you can always rely on a history teacher.

After we ate lunch on a bench, we headed out to West Egg.  One of my poems appears in a new anthology from Silver Birch Press called, simply, The Great Gatsby Anthology, and the press is doing writer profiles with photos of the writers with the book.  Since I'm local to Gatsby's locale, I figured taking a picture from West Egg looking over the water into East Egg would be great.

For those of you who have no idea of what kind of eggs I'm talking about.

 For shame, Great Neck and King's Point, for shame!  There's basically no way to get to the water.  You can't pull your car over and you can't go into the parks unless you're a resident.  I mean, it's a park.  It's nature.  I'll pay five bucks for parking. For shame!  Great Neck?  You ain't so great.

Plan B, we headed over to a park my brother knew about that we were allowed to enter even though we are lowly plebians, and we found a hill that overlooks Manhasset Bay, kinda.  Like, it's in the background through some foliage.  Okay, a lot of foliage.  But we made it after circling through and around each Egg.

My brother mentioned that he should  have brought some jazz along to listen to on the ride.  Instead, we'd been listening to Billy Joel, and that's pretty much as Long Island as you can get.  So we listened to more of him on the way back all the way through the Valley of Ashes.