That Went Fast ... Again
And so another trip to the Cape comes to a close — eight days of friends and laughs and naps and walks and writing and amazing meals and warm (even hot!) sunshine sandwiched in between two hurricanes, or at least the threats of them. Bill was pretty much a non-event. Danny got us all wet yesterday (think Brighton Pride and then quadruple it), but nothing too drastic. It was actually quite pleasant, a long, rainy afternoon which I spent the majority of in Frappo66, scribbling some notes, hanging out with a dragon-tattooed girl, and looking at boys.
Here's the thing about Ptown. No matter how pricey it gets, or how posh it tries to be, it still feels like home. I still remember my first impromptu visit when I was probably only 18 or 19 years old. I remember coming back with Larry for the first time and all the subsequent B&Bs and guest houses we stayed in before we got Cape Fear. I remember the first time I walked into Cape Fear, each half-flight of stairs compelling me to go "Wow, is this really ours?", heading up to the roof deck to see the bay from one side and the ocean from the other. And it's all still here. Somebody else might live there full time now, but I'm pretty sure we'll grow old in this condo. But retirement's a long way off and it looks like we're in London for the foreseeable future.
There was a time before the beginning of this summer that I wondered if Ptown might have lost its attraction, that maybe we'd moved on having been away for so long.
Those thoughts have been quashed, and even though I'm not sure when I'll get here again, I know that I will and when I arrive, either by boat or by plane or by car, I'll feel like I've come home again.
Next stop, Toronto.
August 28, 2009
I Didn't Do It
John Kennedy, Jr.
They all died while I was staying in our place in Ptown.
I'm not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.
August 14, 2009
A Gentle Reminder
It's = a contraction for it is or it has
It's not that difficult to learn the basics of your language.
It's not been that long since we've had this converstation.
Its = possessive pronoun
The bank is lowering its interest rate.
Education is its own reward.
Fox News is often up its own arse.
Some say Starbucks charges too much for its coffee.
This blog probably has run its course.
They're is the contraction for they are.
They're having knee-jerk reactions television pundits.
I don't agree with what they're saying.
There is a noun or adverb, usually indicating a place.
You can put it there.
Here is not always better than there, but there is not always better than here. Both places, in fact, have their own merits and weaknesses.
No matter where you go, there you are.
Their is a possessive pronoun.
All people are entitled to their own opinions, no matter how uniformed they may be.
My friends have graciously allowed me to sleep on their chesterfield.
Thier does not exist. Please do not use it.
One more example ...
Lucy and Ricky own a big mobile home. They are driving it across country.
They're going there in their giant camper van.
Thank you for your (not YOU'RE!) attention.
There will be a quiz next week.
August 13, 2009
I've been asked to procure some new fun music before I had back to the States in ten days.
Here's one of the selections that my favorite pop savant has forwarded me. I kind of love it.
August 9, 2009
Yesterday Once More, with Custard Pie
I don't know what's going on in my subconscious, but I've had Bill Knapp's dreams for two nights in a row. Very vivid memories, yellow shirts, plastic name tags, women from my past and and present canary-yellow nylon dresses slinging Chicken and Biscuits, Au Gratins, and Dinner Chopped Steaks in the parking lot of Beechmont Mall. And of course, hammering out scheduling conflicts with my manager, Debbie (makes me wonder whatever happened to her).
That was over thirty years ago. Where's it coming from?