yeah, well, sometimes you go for the low hanging fruit, sunset beach is just… one of those things you do in Cape May, regardless of season, it works, it is a destination for a reason, I huddled in place for just the right moment, and damn is it sweet, so if you think you know New Jersey, you don’t, is there a reason we have a bad reputation ? sure… but the real Jersey shore is more than people know… that wreck out there? that is the SS Atlantus… ’nuff said.
Tag: Life
Cape May, travel log part 3… (not today, not thwarted twice)
(yeah I know, I skipped part two, I sort of wrote it but didn’t finish it, so, maybe I will get to it, maybe not, anyway, here is today…)
as has been my mission the past couple of years (has it been that long?), I have endeavored to find the nooks and corners of my state, sure it took me decades to realize this mission, but better now than never, although I am harboring down in Cape May I looked around the map of this garden state to find places that are out of the way but within striking distance of this shore town base, today was my first day of trekking about (yesterday was just not conducive no doubt, hiking in the unknown spaces in the rain is just not my thing, especially on vacation), so I struck out to see a lighthouse, is it the sea? the buildings themselves? the history? I suspect all of these engender my fascination with lighthouses, so I chose one I had never been, East Point Lighthouse (picture above by me), this is a different part of the state, some of the landscapes are almost alien, salt marshes stretched out split up by rivers I never really heard of until today, dennis township ? houses that range from extended trailers to brick mansions back to condemned barns and everything in between, far away from the urban blueprint planning I see in the day to day up in the other end of the state, no main streets, I only once happened upon a shopping center with a cluster of typical stores, other than that all local business run from houses, and lots of old boats in yards, and soon even this smattering of civilization faded away to less and less, just a road with marshes seemingly all around, thankfully GPS leads me through, only a few minutes to go, a sign for the lighthouse, and I am almost there, and then, the unthinkable, after an hour drive in all territory new, ROAD CLOSED… and in my jersey accent “ya gotta be kiddin me!”, so I drive up the road a little anyway, because, well, maybe the road was closed for other people, but no, there was a full on construction crew humming, bulldozers and the like causing all sorts of commotion and approaching, so I back track, quite literally, and try the road down to the left, dead end bay, but I am here, I have to do SOMETHING right? I park, get out and at least manage to take a few photos from a distance, and it looks like they are rebuilding the beach around the lighthouse, so how can I complain? so I pack up my disappointment and look down at my little list of places, time to try the next one on the list, what else could go wrong ?
I program in the destination, Thomas Beach/Observation Deck… the world has whimsy today, I follow my GPS to a tee and wind up doing basically a big square back to the same road the lighthouse is on, seriously? yes… but at least there is a turn off before I went back down that lighthouse dead end, this is more typical of south Jersey wildlife areas, a barely two lane road, not good signage, one way in, one way out, so I find Thomas Beach Rd, and down I go, past a house, with all sorts of cool nautical trinkets adorning all the windows and doors, the type of thing you see down here but never get tired of, well, at least I don’t, I imagine it takes a certain type of person to live this next to the grid but not quite off, perhaps this will be my fate of homestead one day I think, so down the beach road, sounds promising, the land is a barren marsh this time of year, although the reeds glow in the midday sun, zipping along is quite calming, what is that in the road over there? some type of large bird, a wild turkey is my first thought but too skinny, I pull up slowly, a pheasant, much bigger than I reckoned, I had never seen one up close, and the peasant was not too happy with my spying, quickly disappearing into the brush, and yes, the camouflage is impressive, maybe today won’t totally flame out? a short while the later, the observation deck comes into view, perhaps not the largest or highest I have encountered but at least I know I am in the right place, I park, there is a boat launch on both sides of the lot, the water from the marsh is also close to my spot, but I shake off the possibility of flooding, not as if I have some local knowledge, maybe I just did not want to re-park, there is not much to observe up on the deck, a couple of ospreys off in the distance, the sun rippling on the water in between the reeds, it’s calming, but I itch to see a bit more, this is a beach road after all, so where’s the beach? unbeknownst to me, the road to the beach is closed to car traffic, no matter, I don’t mind a hike and this being flat land, not a big deal, so I pack up, bottle of water in the old pack, my cameras and such, leaving my car behind seems odd but that is just the urban bug in me, I highly doubt car break ins are an issue here, I could probably leave the thing unlocked (but will not), I meander down the path, gravel and puddles, the later which I avoid as I am not wearing water proof gear, little fish are startled by my bumbling, racing out of the protected shallows as I walk along, I guess I come upon the midway point, there are a couple of cement benches, I do not need them now, I certainly will on the return trip, however, the observation deck is shrinking smaller in my rear view, and then I see them, looming, a few large puddles, or perhaps more, let me get closer and inspect, grrr, no way around without getting totally wet, these are not the shoes for this, I have proper gear back in the car, the sun has gone to playing hide and seek, mostly hide so a manageable 50-ish is beginning to dive, damn it, I will not be denied twice today, this will not beat me, I will get to this beach!
I start back, startling all the little fish again, cement benches, check, there is the reflective gate blocking the road, check, back to the car to grab my crocs, I don’t want to lug my marsh boots all the while, I again contemplate calling it a day right now, no way, I have to do this, back I go, gate passed, cement benches, and back to the water hazard that stopped me dead earlier, I slip off my merrils and socks, plop on my crocs, here I go, not bad so far, and then ankle deep arctic cold, “just move on” I think, kind of like walking on hot coals, just go man go, is this really worth it for some beach? I’m here now might as well just move those feet, and the deed is done, the gauntlet met and slain, back to dry gravel ground again, there is a ridge not that far ahead, I think I hear the roar of the ocean, but it also may be a distant helicopter or plane, but I must admit the sound does put a little pep in my step, forgetting how damn cold my feet were a moment ago, a blue heron flies off, they are quite skittish you know, even for such a large bird, that roar, that roar approaching, that is definitely the ocean, up over that crest, a dune, the reeds reveal a sandy path, to yes, the beach, finally, a destination met, bucket list this puppy off my list, not a soul in any direction, a private beach for my own discretion, a couple more of those cement benches but again I pass them by for now I am set out onto a barren secluded beach of my own, no feet aside from mine on this day at least, the gentle crashing of the waves, the reeds in the wake bending back and forth, was this worth it ? this was, for me, in spades…
post script… the path back to the car was no longer flooded, in fact the water receded greatly, so my trial by cold water was more a matter of tide, I stand by my story, however…
Cape May travel log part 1…
I wish I could make movies, with the film of my eyes, so I could really show you what I am seeing, not just in the usual dimensions, but with the actual lens of my mind, I am driving, down a way, I know so well, and literally a countdown, New Jersey is many things but one thing in particular is the spine, the Parkway, the numbered roadway that seems to control destiny here in the garden state, tonight I am travelling, due south, or as far south as will allow, down from 131 all the way to exit 0, ZERO, and then a bit further, in the summer months this would be a head scratching mess, bumper to bumper, taillights, eye locked eye fights, horns, accidents causing throngs of frustration rippling up the roadway for miles, but not today, and certainly not tonight, the sky is spitting, and misting, the bright dashes embedded in the asphalt road are hypnotic and monotonous both, eight lanes in the busy part of the state become four and then down to two, bridges over unseen waters rush on by, there are very few cars on the road tonight, a Sunday, to be sure, but the hour is not that late even if it seems later, six PM sharp seems more like midnight dark, but who am I to say, exit 42 just went by, not much further to go, no GPS, no maps, I know all this route well, a ritual perhaps, my yearly coming here, well, there, when I get there, Cape May, all these years and I never thought to research the name as to why ‘May‘, and the thought will probably be gone before exit 30, or 12, or the Wildwoods, ever so closer to my shore resort destination…
I pass exit zero, without much or any fanfare, the land seems bare, wrapped up and tucked away for winter, not barren or abandoned, just buttoned down to the point of just enough, I suppose this is what hibernation is, except for humans living in places where the wind, wake and weather dictate behavior, for a time, for a season, this time, so I have arrived, a resort town, directly on the ocean, of course the hotel is located on ‘Beach Avenue’, the town is not quite empty, but the word “vacancy” is in more display than car lights on the thoroughfares, as a matter of fact the traffic lights are also put to sleep, just a blinking yellow where proper popular crossings used to be, no matter, there is nothing to encounter, just the misty rain in the streetlights light, the blinking yellow light flashes on the sides of the dark buildings like predictable lightning, my old hotel with a parking lot occupied by only one other car, this is why I come here, this time of year, I am almost disappointed someone else is here, but secrets are never kept, and others I suppose might have the same bent, as me, so, I park in my choice of spots, walk into the familiar lobby (as I have stayed here many times over the years), and an older woman checking in is wondering aloud with the hotel employee, “am I the only one here?”, and I answer, “no there is also me”, which seemed to startle her a bit, even if it was not my intent, so I check in, with the gentleman who is more like a kid, I never run into the same person twice, at the desk, in all these years, he’s nice enough, certainly up on his speech about hotel policies, I interject, trying not to be condescending, probably failing, that I am well aware of all these things as I stay here every year going back at least a decade or more, how pompous, but I think he took it fine, with a nervous genuine smile, I made a joke about the parking situation, honestly this is the most empty I have ever seen this place, that suits me just fine, but I am sure the desk worker still has to adhere to his due diligence, and well, good for him, I get my key card, fifth floor, ocean view of course, I imagine I am no where near the two others who are checked in, and I must admit I hope that to be true, I am here to detach, get away, isolate, decompress and all that, a selfish moment, a selfish sentiment, yes, I agree, but sometimes such things are needed, and this is one of those times, and that is why I came.
Sometimes the familiar is a lull and you lose yourself, you forget to check the details, this is an old hotel, back to the 1800s in fact, you can tell in the hallways, drafty and cold, as is the case tonight, the ceilings are also shorter than you might imagine, hard to tell how many souls have walked these halls, I stop off the elevator to check out the lounge (there is one on each floor), old victorian decor, paint over paint over paint from the years and wear, various books seem random, a complete volume of Funk and Wagnall’s encyclopedia, it seems this little corner survives like a museum outside the reach of the internet, at least for now, the faded yellowing pages are somehow soothing, even if I am not going to bother reading, books can be experiences in many ways, even on display, such as this, left like little presents for those who wish to unwrap them, but for now, I would rather get to my room, unpack all this junk I have wrought upon my back, all my gizmos and electronics, this laptop on which I type, all the work to break them down and build them back up seems absurd for just a short week, but a creature of habit needs to eat, so here I am and doing all these so I might have a level of comfort that I brought with me to this place.
end part 1
a simple poem, a simple thought…
am I the brick in line so perfectly laid
or the tuft of grass
that has found a way
in that space
in between
and which on now would I rather be?
notes… I was driving to my local supermarket, and the median before the main road was so manicured just a few years ago, it still is nice, but I noticed the bricks all in line, and these lines just came to me, so I wrote them, as I am known to do, in one of my scribble journals that I always keep close by, I suggest you do the same, you never know when the muse or inspiration will tap you on the shoulder, so, be prepared as much as you can, without ruining the moment, let it happen…
music? ok, here is something from a band that gets no due, I tend to specialize in such things…. punk post rock anthem… unique sound, great vocals, garage honed sound…
hey ! all thoughts, comments, critiques and such… are all appreciated, let me hear from you peeps! Honestly this blog is for me, no guts and glory or fame, I do pretty OK in the real so this is just me throwin my art out there, if one person is helped or likes it… I’m good. I am on vacay next week so no idea what might happen here… probably a bunch of beach shots of south jersey and places no one goes to (but should)… we’ll see, Cape May baby…. Cape May!
Scrimshawshank Redemption…
scrimshaw
if teeth could tell tales
instead of having them pass by
from the mouths of babes
spawned in the maws of whales
food for thought, a pictograph
etched enamel, weathered hands
captured memory of the sea
a voyage through the seven and creatures be
words wrapped wisdom around a molar born
or an incisor’s whit captured nautical dawns
“This is the tooth of a sperm whale that was caught near the Galapagos islands by the crew of the ship Adam [of London], and made 100 barrels of oil in the year 1817.” (an early scrimshaw inscription)
“lively sketches of whales and whaling-scenes, graven by the fishermen themselves on Sperm Whale-teeth, or ladies’ busks wrought out of the Right Whale-bone, and other skrimshander articles” – Moby Dick by Melville
Scrimshaw collection @ the Museum of New Zealand – Te Papa Tongarewa
Music? gotta go nautical with one of my all time faves…
A “prow” is the portion of a ship’s bow (ahem, front of ship) that is above the water, in old times adorned with various carvings, creatures and maidens…
notes: Scrimshaw ? yeah, I know, what the? sometimes, ok, often things just pop in my mind, “it just popped in there” – ray
selfish shellfish selfless selfies…
the twin lives of selfishness and selflessness
truly a world divided, a yin and yang, chang and eng, the tried, true and classic black and white cookie, still the two could not be more distinct but should they be? or more symbiotic than you might think, poor ole selfishness seems languished in reputation while selflessness is bathed glowingly in the perpetual limelight of hero worship, however, as with a book and it’s cover it pays to look under the surface, the subterranean is always harder to explore, you need the guiding light of the mind and a dash of some adventurous spirit (and perhaps a good pair of boots and sturdy rope), so let me make a case in the defense of selfishness, at some point you must have a drop of this, or a dollop of it added to your bloodstream, think of this infusion as a valid component of the prescription for self preservation, you are being carried away by raging waters, you must find a tree limb or other outcrop to hold onto, and from there, perhaps, you can furnish the rescue of others, but blind loyalty to selflessness may lead to needless death, for yourself, and those you might mean to save, all an equation, but one that must be mastered by the mind as instinct in a framework in which to act when called upon or needed, I have unfortunately read many an account where someone has jumped into a certain situation only to perish themselves, so, at least in this instance selfish was a bridge to selfless, complete and utter selflessness would have lead to further tragedy and served no one well, brief #2, a selfishness on the stand, if you do not take the time to keep your house in order how can you honor others? cross examine that for a spell, for the young knight who charges off into the battle in full shining armor, with gleaming honor, perfect edge to a shining blinding sword, and all the best intent ringing in his spurs, or consider the aged knight, war weary, battled in spirit, no less noble, perhaps a bit more selfish in the past as it has gotten him this far, and the poor young night now has the distinct experience with his head upon a spike, glorious helmet quite upright, chivalry may die quickly upon the shields of the young, and then perhaps there is the knight that only knows the love of gold, for he will truly die fat, happy, and quite alone, because in the realm of coin there are no citizens, only denizens of no self, a desert land of the self less, there seems to be some merit resident in selfishness to consider, when used as a tool to build and not a house to hold.
music to ponder the universe to: (ambient space goodness)
Carbon Based Lifeforms – ‘And Contact’ (from the album The Path)
the first gnash…
the first gnash of teeth, against me, my skin, piercing fangs, I thought I was prepared, I have seen this before, I have experienced this before, so many times as memory serves, the summer has softened me, the fall has cautioned me, but no, nothing prepares for the veil, the drop of the curtain, the stark view from the top of the cliff as your fear falls off, the reveal of the cold that makes you recoil back into your shell, and in this early fall day this is this, a first grasp, a first gnash, grabs at me, anything, any skin revealed, causing scurry into the indoors, the bite, the jaws, the abject cold, how it penetrates, all your charms and armor just fall by the wayside, cast aside in a moment, so prepared am I that I am still unprepared for the full frontal, the full front swept across the plains, slamming into the northern states, but more so here, just north of where I usually tract, but yet, I am here, dealing with the bend of the jet stream just south, just south enough, twenty degrees, twenty degrees, can it be? the time for outside ends, so soon I think, tomorrow morning I wake, to scurry to the car, huddle in place to let it warm, oh sweet autumn, where have you gone…
notes… wrote this last night in a fever pinch when the temp in westchester NY dropped into the 20s, I was in some foreign hotel, away from home but I have to say the hotel was comfy and had damn good insulation, elmsford NY, I can check that off the bucket list, well, I doubt many have elmsford on their bucket list but it is not a bad town anyways… I checked in around 6pm, parking lot had plenty of options… went to dinner (really good), came back around 9pm and there was literally one spot left, woke up and checked out by 7am and the lot was nearly empty… strange man, strange…. but up the street to Pleasantville I went, I have to say the local Starbucks was one of the most well run and friendly I have ever been too, and they know all the regulars and bang out the orders, for those of you who turn your nose up at Starbucks (and the prices), try the just the regular coffee, not the ‘triple lindy caramel choco double frappe half zebra latte’ or whatever, for the price the regular coffee is damn awesome, I like the Pike, or Sumatra, just a splash of skim… but that is just me… and I did have some amazing sashimi today with my coworker Alzira!
observational moment…
observation, like a movie, like a dream, like the terror of sleepy hollow approaching, the leaves parting, dancing as if on cue and string, all the ingredients stirring, in a wind mixer, a blender, in the wake of motion of cars travelling down the highway, even if I understand all the thermal and aerodynamics of the phenomena I am astounded by the coordination of all, not even a rehearsal, just the fall, the leaves in just the right place, in just such a way as to peel off like parting waves and curl off into the wake, albeit behind cars in inward looping curls, but again, all the random perfection that had to happen, the leaves fallen just so, the wind at the right flow, the dryness of the air so nothing is sticking, the amazing spectacle of driving through autumn leaves left on the road, so simple, so over looked, amazement hidden under your nose… and tires…
notes… I am up in Pleasantville NY (‘Westchester is Bestchester’ as they say around here) for work (for a few days now), huddled in a hotel as the temperature drops into real winter depths, actually colder than usual even for real winter, out of my element in a new town, you think I would be used to it by now, but as I rode along the road I felt like I was in a Lexus commercial or something the way the leaves perfectly rode up my ride and danced around… so, you know, I write things… this being one of those, I try to to keep up when I am on the road but when you work 12-15 hour days, and some in a row, time eats you up and leisure becomes the revelation of good water pressure in the hotel you are staying in… ah, another continental breakfast to take in….
and by the way for those not in the know, I am literally not that far from Sleepy Hollow, it is a real place after all and is awesome in the fall as you might imagine, if you are in the NYC area consider visiting especially halloween time… they dress up the town as you might think and it has a vibe…
the continuing travails of jack, not the candle jumper, the lantern intern (whimsy)…
O’ withering Jack
you lowly schmuck
only luck kept you out of a pie
or worse yet pumpkin spice spam
or some sumptuous trendy latte, perhaps
or in the boil of some awful seasonal brew
no, you, are now just this sinking lump
a hump of rotten candy corn looking imitation
drooling out god knows what
from the corner of that hole that was your mouth part
drifting ever south
by the hour, ravens will not even peck
at your dead hollow eyes
in fact I do not think
I can pick you up in one piece
might I need a shovel
and dump you in the woods
like some mobster’s body
and then perhaps you may realize
your last final purpose…
to fertilize.
O’ my poor Jack
my creation,
my creativity birthed to fruition
your iron toothed smile brought fright
spawning shadows cast into that hallow night
seeming singular purpose you did guard
my doorstep walkway and the yard
for not even a black cat did approach
nor spells of darkness dare encroach
not on your watch my good friend!
but with the pass of october and leafy dress
that last candle must flicker down
and when all wax is said and done
your watch will have ended
my esteemed, my surrogate, the one
until next harvest, the one
notes… these are just for fun, just me throwing out some lines thinking about the poor sap of a thing on my stoop… seasonal and such… this is a continuation of a previous post…
quick shot perspective (aka the puppy effect)…
the morning shuffle, daily, I have been trying to pause for a moment before I hop in my car for the morning commute, to just pause, take a gander around, maybe spy the sunlight creeping through and around the branches of the trees that tower over the backdrop of the house, maybe find a squirrel milling about, a flock or one of the local birds, get lost in the minutia of wondrous nature, of the natural world around even here in suburbia, for just a second, take it in, ingest it like a day’s nourishment if you will, take the feeling with me to fuel some sense of wellness for as long as I can stretch it to last, to remember my place in the universe, the wonder of a planet spinning all the time, my feet quite tethered to yet unaware, but this morning I was in a rush, in a huff, no thinking about doing the right thing and enjoying a moment in the proverbial sun, of course there was none, sun, that is, this morning, just ominous grey swaths haphazard across, blurred and bound I rushed to my car unknown to sight or sound, just on the mission to get to work by nine, on time, or else, but sometimes life intervenes on your own behalf, out of the corner of my eye, down the block, enough of a ways I had to grab a second look, a neighbor, whom I could not identify out of a line up for my life, walking a dog, but not a dog, quite obviously a young one, a puppy, just the word rings the brain and resets perspective, ‘a puppy’, some sort of husky mix thing, paws more like over size rain boots two sizes too large, curiosity streaming from every posture pose, leash taut in stretch directions as all things are new, I wanted to pause and say hello but time would not allow, but time did allow enough, for that moment of puppy love, and things seemed more alright, for at least a few moments thereof.
Music… obvious…
Shades of My Garden 