To the Oceans White with Foam

This chronicle of our Fourth adventures might be getting a bit old so I’ll keep it short today. Besides, I’m here at the beach again, and the ocean and sky are calling my name. My brother and his wife and daughter and I are going parasailing in just a little while, something I’ve wanted to do for a long, long time.

Back to the travelogue, from Friday the 5th through Monday the 10th, we savored every moment at the beach. Well, I did anyway. Otis doesn’t love the coast as much as I do, but he managed to stay busy helping an old friend with some renovations to his condo. Still, we both enjoyed dining out (Gulfstream and Salt Water Grill) and getting together with some old friends.

As usual, I did a lot of beach walking and reading and people watching. Just a couple of comments about those activities:

*Beach walking is good for body and soul, and evidently a lot of other people feel that way too because there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of us walking along the strand. Going from the hard packed sand and then into the edge of the lapping waves…well, it’s sublime.
*And the reading part. I’ve been re-reading two of Leon Uris’ books, Mila 18 and QB VII, and I just have to say that anyone who’s moaning and groaning about what a tough life she has in America needs to read those books, especially Mila 18.
*
About the people watching, I enjoy watching the children frolic and build sand castles, the people sitting in chairs reading or chatting, and the young people playing ball (or catch or something). Yesterday a little toddler with a huge happy smile gave me a rock. I put it in with my shell collection as a reminder of the morning. One last comment about the people. I have to ask WHY? Why do so many people expose their jiggling tummies and derrieres? It’s painful to see. I know, I know. I don’t have to look, and yet unless I wear a blindfold or keep my eyes shut, there’s no way to avoid those sights.

Oops, time to get my bathing suit on and head to the beach for my adventure. Sure hope the reality meets the anticipation of this. To sum up our week of celebrating America’s birthday,

 “From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.”

Favorite Fourths

I love everything about the Fourth and the values and principles that it represents. Yep, I even like the golf cart parades, and it makes my day when I see someone wearing a red, white, and blue bathing suit.

Since this is my personal blog, the one where I can post on topics ranging from single mothers and social issues to my family and life experiences, this afternoon I decided to jot down a few things about the Fourth. I love everything about the holiday and the values and principles that it represents. Yep, I even like the golf cart parades, and it makes my day when I see someone wearing a red, white, and blue bathing suit.

This Fourth was quiet compared to many of the others I’ve celebrated. It was just the two of us in Myrtle Beach on Independence Day, and here’s what we did. We began celebrating the night before with a cookout at Carol and Randy’s house in Windy Hill. Loved the huge strawberry shortcake! On the morning of the Fourth, we hit the beach early and stayed there for a couple of hours. We walked, talked, read, and people watched, and I hope to always spend at least a part of our nation’s birthday doing just that.

Later we ate lunch, shopped a little, ate burgers, splurged on ice cream at Cold Stone in Market Commons, and watched a sad fireworks display. We usually go to the 2nd Ave Pier with throngs of other people, but this year we opted to stay at the Commons to view the spectacular display we had seen last year. It didn’t happen; we saw a total of six fiery bursts. Live and learn, right? Next year we’ll be down by the ocean.

Reliving last week’s Fourth has conjured up memories of past celebrations, and in keeping with the Fourth, I’m going to share my top four.

At the top of the list is one in which my son and I went with a buddy from Loris and her daughter to the nation’s capital. Talk about a fireworks display! We joined what seemed like thousands of our fellow American on the mall and watched an awesome sight and  sound show. Something that makes this memory special is that it marks the evening when I realized that my son was growing up and away (from me). He was probably about 10 and VERY ACTIVE. Not content to stay with “us gals,” he climbed on statues and monuments to get a better look at the people and festivities. I was a nervous Nellie, afraid that some crazy person would kidnap him.

Another top memory goes back years ago. It took place in Myrtle Beach. My first husband and I were big into running in those days, and on the Fourth we got up before dawn and went down to the beach for a three-mile jog. My mother was visiting with us and stayed behind to watch the children. We had barely begun our jog when we saw them, a family of about six (maybe more—it was a quick glance) Vietnamese huddled together on the stairs of a beach access boardwalk. To me, they all looked scared and uncertain as they stared out at the ocean. Were they thinking of the land they had left? Were they wondering what this BIG DAY was all about? Were they anxious about what lay before them in the land of the free?

Another favorite memory is of a day when my daughter Carrie and I left the coast to spend the day in the midlands with various family members. My brother and his family were in town visiting my parents for a few days, and we wanted to share a burger with them. My other brother and his family joined us, and if I’m not mistaken, that was the last Independence Day we shared with my parents. Wish we’d taken some pictures.

After lunch and some “hanging out,” we took off for Sumter to visit my sister. She and her husband owned a restaurant at that time, and we (visiting brother and his family and Carrie and I) dined there that night. We have a funny looking picture to prove it. Dave’s wearing a Panama hat, and the rest of us are just standing there looking like dorks. After good-bye hugs, Carrie and I headed east again, but before going home, we stopped in Florence. The parents of a young man whom she was dating at the time had invited us to come by, and we did. They had a pool, and in and around it were a couple of dozen people mingling and talking and lying on floats. There was also lots of food, especially desserts, but Carrie and I restrained ourselves. Tired but happy, we made it back to the beach around midnight.

This post has gone on long enough! I’m just briefly mention last year’s celebration at the beach. Although I can’t remember what happened during the day, I’ll never forget watching the fireworks with my grandchildren at Market Commons in Myrtle Beach that night. In a word, awesome. Afterwards we walked the mile or so back home, and the entire way back, Brooke talked nonstop to Otis. He kiddingly told her that she needed to save her breath for walking, but she chattered on and on. Sweet girl.

I’m sure everyone has special memories of families and friends and flags and burgers. I just wanted to share a few of mine. You know, I think seeing that Vietnamese family is the one that tops the list. For me, it marked the first time I knew that change was happening at breakneck speed, that America was indeed a refuge for millions, and that cultural diversity was becoming more important. I hope the family has found opportunity here and that they love America as much as I do.

Last Day in the Big Apple

Tired but happy, the six of us wrapped up our last day of holiday fun in New York City with a little shopping and museum browsing. A good time was had by all!

On the last day of our whirlwind trip to Manhattan,  we repeated our breakfast routine while making plans for the day. With only so many hours left, we decided to split up so that we could all spend the remaining time doing the things we really wanted to do. Tilara and Mary headed up to the north side for some shopping while the rest of us went to the Museum of Modern Art, better known as the MoMA.

Interestingly, the taxi driver misunderstood us and thought we wanted to go to the Metropolitan Museum. Thus, we kept going farther and farther north, and about the time I was really relishing the sights of Central Park, I realized we had overshot our location. When we mentioned it to the driver, he apologized and said he thought we’d said the Met and not the MoMA. Here’s the neat thing. Although we got in some extra sightseeing, he took it off the meter and didn’t charge us. That’s a little thing, and yet it’s a big thing too.

I LOVE that museum, and that day it was especially awesome. Cloudy, overcast, and cold on the outside, it was toasty and warm on the inside. From the huge windows, I enjoyed the outside views while savoring the wood floors, the hushed sounds, and of course the magnificent exhibits and paintings. Everything took on a different (special) aura that day, perhaps because I was sharing the experience with good friends. Too, I think the holiday spirit was abundant, thus further buoying my mood.

From the moment we walked in and saw the display of words, I knew it was going to be a great morning. Jeanita and I heard piano playing, and when we saw the cluster of people gathering around it, we moved closer and saw a man standing INSIDE of the piano playing backwards. I loved seeing the work of Andy Warhol, Van Gogh, Klimt (especially the painting of the pregnant woman), and Wyeth. One of the things I learned that day was that the young woman in Wyeth’s painting Christina’s World had polio. I had always assumed she was just lying in the grass looking at a farmhouse and was stunned when I realized that she was actually inching her way towards it, a sight that Wyeth saw from a window. I also learned the term”magic realism,” something I experience quite often.

We couldn’t leave the museum without a visit to the gift shop for a few goodies. My personal favorite is a black t-shirt with the letters MoMA across the front. When we walked outside, I saw something else delightful, something I’d never see in Camden if I lived to be 100, a skilled dancer across the street who was performing for passers-by. Boom box blaring, she was energetically dancing with skill and talent. Where is the crew from Dancing with the Stars when you need them???

Fortunately, we were able to snag a taxi right away and headed back to the Staybridge where a car was picking us up to take us to the airport. We’re such a positive bunch that we even enjoyed our ride to LaGuardia, especially the Queens scenes. I felt like I was on the set of the old Archie Bunker sitcom of the 70’s. Upon arrival at La Guardia, we went straight to our gate after passing through security (not bad) and sat and waited for a couple of  hours. While none of us really enjoyed waiting so long, we figured it was better than taking a chance on missing our flight. Plus, there were many interesting sights to see, and the snacks were yummy. Love those Dunkin’ Donuts flatbread sandwiches!

The flight back to Myrtle Beach was smooth, fast, and uneventful. Seeing the stuffed bears reclining in beach chairs in the airport all lit up for Christmas was the icing on the cake. Tired but happy, we stopped at the Piggly Wiggly at Market Commons for some pizza and then went to the condo to eat and share memories. Truly, a good time was had by all.