this morning i awoke remembering... the breeze blowing through the window... the familiar clinking sound of the blinds against the pane... laying in bed in a room that smells musty and damp from the salt air... making my way to the kitchen to have a bowl of cereal while everyone was readying for the beach 3 blocks away from our little rented bungalow set beside the bay...
this was in the 60's (before every home had a guest house in the backyard and every dock had a motor boat moored next to it)... it was when you could cast down a homemade net in the bay that morning and come back after a day at the beach and see whether you had a crab or bait... either was exciting...
walking into the mucky bay filled with seaweed... and dad would go out and rake the bottom of the jetty so that the first step into the bay wasn't 'yucky'... my brother gary swimming to the other side and back and my parents watching him with such pride (they would tell everyone when we got home what a great swimmer he was)... i was content on a raft...
nights on the boardwalk in seaside heights... dad giving us money so we could make change and play the stands ('the union jack') for 25c... it was here that all three of us were able to get the albums that we waited for all year... 'rolling stones', 'carol king', 'carly simon' and 'james taylor'... we ate sausage sandwhiches and carmel apples and went on rides...'the wild mouse' the 'himalaya' (which always played led zeppelin)...
all my life since before i could remember my dad would take his 2 weeks' vacation and off we would go to the shore... in bungalows, hotels, whereever he could manage it... and i have remained richer for it whenever a cool summer breeze rattles my window pane.