triggers: the raw bar

October 9, 2020October 24, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

there are different memories of mine of the jersey shore, the real one, not what you saw on TV, wildwood crest when I was a child (boardwalk with rides and games) and then later on Cape May, I never recoiled, as early as I can recall, at the raw seafood bar (specifically talking about The Lobster House), it took me a while to get used to oysters however, but clams? I suppose we were meant to be, I suppose texturally they are similar to oysters but not for me, I like the chewability of them, yes, I like to chew them, big ole cherrystones on the half shell raw, I notice many people kind of slurp them down quickly, only getting a bit of the ocean flavor doused in cocktail sauce, kind of powering through them like shots of liquor, I want more than that flash, I want to know where they are from to savor the flavor, for a moment more at least, this particular raw bar, was my first, and to which all others have always been compared, maybe the location has something to do with it, my home state, the vacation memories with my folks and now my own-some, all these years, the same, you order them up, they schuck them up, nothing fancy, a big plate of ice, a wedge of lemon, a container of cocktail sauce, no crackers (sorry Maryland), a dollar store child’s size plastic fork, and that all adds up to perfection, with social distancing in order, I had to take my order down the dock, literally the raw bar’s backdrop is the dock where the commercial fishing boats come in to deliver their catch, you sit in their shadows and can almost listen to their histories creaking in the hulls, certainly smell the fresh ocean and a bit of oil, seating is equally simple, tables made out of those rope storage spools painted over too many times to count, surrounded by the ubiquitous plastic white chairs, even in covid times there is comfort there in this setting, while not bustling it was busier than I might have thought, the every other minute decades old sounding announcement system bleating out about orders ready at the takeout window, “ticket 1916, ticket 1916, ready @ the takeout window”, but I concentrate on my plate, a glistening fresh 2 dozen, I could eat 100, or more, probably, I try to remind myself to slow down, take a sip of amstel in-between, but damn they are so good, all those memories triggered in a bite flood my entirety, the burst of sea water, a tinge of cocktail sauce, the meaty texture of the clam bellies, everything I remember, surely would be a disappointment if it were not, but my entire life, this one spot, nothing seems to change even in a pandemic year, and in a way, it calms my soul, letting me know everything will be just fine, at least for now, with a simple plate of clams, well, now… they are … gone.
(side note “the raw bar” would make a great strip club name, just saying)

Photo Travel-log, Scientist Cliffs, Maryland, Part 2…

September 27, 2020September 27, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Some more photos of the beach, the main one mostly, they have a huge fire pit, I do not know the laws in your part of the earth but here in Jersey? They might call out swat if you start a fire on the beach (you are not even allowed on the beaches at night)… in rural Maryland ? You can sit by a huge bonfire serenaded by the waves and bay breeze (while having a bay breeze)… and that my friends makes it worth every penny… and see all the people ? Um… so yeah, this is why I love the place so I can unpack my thoughts… or not think at all.

Photolog from Scientist Cliffs, MD

September 26, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I tried to capture the vibe of the place (including fauna) This is a northeast US beach towered over by 200 foot cliffs (to the west) which makes it rather unique (although the beach itself is not very deep due to this fact). The ‘beach’ by the house I rent is gone completely now). This private community was founded by scientists back in the 1940s interested in the local American chestnut tree population and vast amount of Miocene era fossil deposits (including Megalodon – fossils which are easily found washed up on the beach – you can see them trapped in the rocks/clay in a couple of the photos). This is more of a housing community than a town… and is surrounded by thousands of acres of nature trails (American Chestnut Land Trust) which the community itself has chipped in and bought up over the years (next time I will get more photos and video of that – they are awesome.) Great hidden gem in rural Maryland (and some great local restaurants only 15 minutes away). If you have any questions drop a comment in. I am glad to share the information about this area to anyone.

Thoughts from… ah well, a vacation ending…

September 19, 2020September 19, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is pexels-photo-1591447-1.jpeg

driving up from the beach that final time, at least this year, I feel the need to stop, say thanks and goodbye to this little stretch of sand that has been my companion, why? I just do, maybe I am preparing my mind for the drive home and all that comes with coming back to the world of real, I pass some deer in one of the longer driveways, staring at me curiously, surely they have seen cars before, I mean, I am on a road and they are on a driveway, but deer logic might be different than mine, or maybe they know I am a stranger and can recognize out of state plates as mine surely are, my headlights play games, and look like little flames playing off mailbox reflective markers, the hour is late, not quite dark yet, I should have worn my glasses, but I know this road well, no way this road would be 35 in new jersey, no way man, sweeping sliding turns up through the cliffs with no street lights save for one past where I am going anyway, how I might take such things for granted, you usually don’t see the actual top line of your lights, the exact height, here, always, and your mind screams ‘turn on your brights stupid!’ and of course look out for deer, I do both as the curves and blindspots require, my finger on the hair trigger to turn them off should another car come this way head on, no one does, this night at least, I turn into the last turn at my gate, pitch black aside from a few lights inside one or two houses, the occasional big screen seen, but everything else is dead quiet and sleeping, I treat my car like I am sneaking home on toes after a night out in my teens as to not awaken my folks, I pull in the drive way to park, tomorrow I depart, for home.

spaghetti eastern…

August 5, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

black shower head switched on — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

.shallow shampoo
the simple things, right? in the shower this morning, fingers luxuriating in my now short hair, I suppose my mostly comfy suburb life never viewed a haircut as a luxury item, but I suppose it can be, at least a professional one, I was definitely a passenger on the bus toward mullet-ville during this quarantine as I could only trim my front and sides – somewhat adequately, what a difference now, I am reminded of how I used to make it a point to scrub my scalp to magically activate the nodes, to perhaps get the blood flowing or something, an anecdotal ritual to ward off baldness or summon youth or both, foolish, I know, funny how certain things ring true though and just pop into your mind instantly years later, as if you are walking through an old library and pick a random book off the shelf that happens to apply to the right now sudden situation unfold, I would not look good bald, I always have told myself that, maybe, maybe I will never know, but I am pretty confident that the whole bald thing is not for me, well, at least for now…

auto automobile automotive blur — Photo by JESHOOTS.com on Pexels.com

.speeding and relative consequences
driving to work the traffic is slowly gathering and coming back to normal, not quite there but there are definitely more travelers week by week, I notice a train crossing over the turnpike, I know, that does not sound exciting, and, well, it isn’t, but for all the times I have made this drive I can not recall ever seeing it, strange… the weather prognosticators have been wrong the past couple of days, I am aware a real storm is coming, but the little ones before the big one never arrived as prescribed by the all knowing weather gods, the sky is bright, there are clouds that look like inverted sand dunes, the type that look like they were imprinted from a chain link fence being pressed on the surface, I know it is a natural phenomena but amazing just the same, the NYC skyline looks like a cheap fake today, literally like a 2D paper cut out of what a ‘city’ should look like, of course there are recognizable forms, the empire state building, the freedom tower etc., but, maybe it is just the fact that I have driven by so many times, that I am not in awe, this sprawling metropolis at a distance, I know the streets, the smells, the sounds, the avenues, the parks, all of it, just from here it looks like a flimsy supermarket end-cap cardboard representation, flat without any juice… I suppose I am speeding, technically speaking, but sometimes doing 80 feels normal, earlier I was doing 70 but with no one around, no reference, no company, that felt like speeding, and now cruising near 85 mph I am almost day dreaming locked in a smooth straight ride, I hardly notice the Audi A8 barreling up behind me, I’m not hogging the left lane, I’m not one of ‘those’ drivers, I leave a good three cars of space in front most of the time, but the Audi just flashes on by as if I am walking, “now that is speeding” I think to myself, with a little disgust as I do recoil at those who pass through all the lanes weaving back and forth (“stay right pass left” ingrained like a tattoo in my skull), I suppose it should not matter much, but damn, I have to admit, it bothers me and I can’t bring myself to do the same even if, honestly, in the long run, it is not a big deal, funny the curbs we place on our own roads…

van parked in front of brown brick building — Photo by Viktor Mogilat on Pexels.com

.arrival
the excitement, the actual palatable rise in contentment, from spotting a sparkling parking spot out in front of the office, waiting for the light left arrow green, the mantra begins in my head “c’mon man, c’mon man”, squeezing the wheel tighter just like pushing the elevator button a few more times as if it will do something to speed up the time, I turn and signal right to the curb, I look around, head on a swivel like I am stealing something, hello hand meet cookie jar, or maybe…maybe I am missing something? I double check the parking sign three times, a sign I have seen one thousand million times before, and I check it once more, I question in my mind what day this is for, maybe I should check my expectations at the door if this is what gets a rise out of me in the morning, I guess expectations are relative, and they are, first to the office this morning, no prize, no ribbon, turn off the alarms and go through that minor panic that I might forget the codes, as if the world would end or the building will explode, and the phone is ringing, it is not 8:30 am yet, don’t these fools know the rules? I feel like I am getting over on them by not answering the phone until the prescribed time, how we wrap ourselves in this world with the garb, the costumes, the hat and gloves, of momentary importance, which is surely not, just a wait station between things that actually mean something.
…definitely time for coffee, splash of skim, packet of stevia, and dive right in…

catch the snow, catch the moment…

January 20, 2020 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

the first real snow of the season, easy to admire the beauty, that childish urge to rush to the window to observe the wonder, even at work, back at my desk, I feel the urge, so I do, scurry out for a peak or two, a proper snow storm looks like it will never end, “is it sticking” is the always refrain around these parts, and today, yes, the ground was quite cold enough, as when I woke up there was a 25 sitting in the thermometer, well, on my phone app, so the world was quite prepared for the coating, that pristine white coating, like all perfect things the shelf life is quite fleeting, so instead of losing the moment, I decided to drive down a few miles from the office, a place I have been before, but sometimes there are a few too many people there for my taste, for me to enjoy the view in a singular fashion, this evening, not so much, not a soul, a historic place, a bridge to nowhere these days, but there is just something about places like this that remind you of the age of land and the faint of man, footprints, so many, have crossed this path, even founding fathers, british soldiers, and now just adjacent to an ordinary brick duplex apartment complex, such the juxtaposition, the position of this relic, preserved, of the past, in cosmic time a blink, in our time many lifetimes since, times we can only read about in books, the time that made the faces on our bills and coins in our pockets, a war, so long forgotten that those we fought are considered our closest friends in the world, a big brother, so to speak, we even love, as people, to follow the comings and goings of their royals, once the ones with the very thumbs that capped our freedom, to be in a place, from that time, this was not America, this was an extension of a foreign power, a foreign hand, so so long ago it seems, so here we are…

epilogue: I leave, quite cold from ‘braving’ (not very brave but my hands were cold) the weather, clicking photos and capturing videos out by the water, the snow is already turning, the plows are churning scraping down the blocks, by the time I get home there is full on rain, the once monolithic white blanket is mere ice soup, with clumps of cream left here and there where the rain has not corrupted yet, and I pause to think back, at least I caught the time, the moment, took the time, spun in the storm, captured a moment, now gone.

this place is New Bridge Landing (more info here), and they hold events as well…

Travel Log: Millville, NJ (in dark winter rain, and what’s in a name)

December 18, 2019 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

green pine trees — Photo by Brandon Montrone on Pexels.com

I had the, ahem, pleasure of driving down to a corner of my state I certainly do not visit often, but Monday night I was tasked with a software upgrade in these forsaken lands, normally you would not think (I did not) of parts of New Jersey being south of parts of Delaware, well, now I am aware as this locality is due south of Wilmington, funny how perception is, we (new jersey types) always think of Delaware as due south of here (well, it mostly is), but that does go to show how off the main heartbeat and arteries this joint is, it is not barren by any means, they have their share of Targets and Walmarts, just a whole hell of a lot of land in between them, you hear a name like “Millville” and do not associate it with much, but it is funny how things have origins, this was literally a Mill Town (seems obvious, I know), founded somewhere around 1720, and next door to this town is Glassboro, you know, where they blow glass, seems simple enough, if you look around your own state such simple names pop out all over the place, and they tell you about the history (or lost history) of the area, there is Marlboro, no not a cigarette thing, the history goes back to the 1600s and the area became famous for… wait for it… “marl“, never heard of it ? me neither, but apparently it was the goods back in the day before commercial fertilizers came about, in fact there are other towns with the moniker, like Marlton, then you get into more obscure named things like “Furnace”, this was a designation of a foundry or iron works, mostly in the pine barrens (you know, where the Jersey Devil is rumored to live), there is Weymouth Furnace, Hanover Furnace, Gloucester Furnace (eh, you get the idea),
…and then there is the colorful or animal themed ones like Red Lion and Hog Wallow, to the strange and mysterious like Ong’s Hat, even on to the ominous Double Trouble (seriously)
…anyway, my trip down south was quite uneventful, full of traffic, enraging traffic, did I mention traffic (where rte 42 meets 55 is mind-numbing), bleak black rain, cold rain but not cold enough for snow or ice, just the type that drips on your neck from some building corner or tree and chills your spine with a flinch, or smacks your ear on the dime, the town is quite barren but I was not in the town center to be fair… but the name of the town got me thinking, and writing, so many simple things in a name, all around us, especially in this area of the states, the original colonies, there is a lot of history here, and probably wherever you are, whether it be 100 years ago or 50, there is something hiding in the corners and cubbyholes of your state I bet, check them out when you get a chance… you might find something unexpected.

thanks for the look, the like, the time, if you like what I do or have any suggestions comments are always respected….

keeping a mental image…

December 3, 2019 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

as I sit here huddled in a hotel room in Elmsford, NY (for work), I try to be positive, well, I must admit the hotel is nice, no complaints there, the weather outside? eh, we were supposed to get this crazy storm, turned out to be a normal one, it’s cold to be sure, snow on the ground, that heavy wet snow that can’t decide if it wants to melt away or just fall into your car in heavy avalanche sheets the second you open the door (happened), I don’t hate the winter, there are times the snow hangs out on the tree frames like a perfect frozen gallery, it catches the light, and is quite beautiful, but not to drive in, not with people up here bearing down up my rear end as they are much more accustomed to driving these parts, man the anxiety builds, being stalked followed so closely when the two lane road becomes one, and one with ice, crunching under my tires seeking the dashed lines mostly obscured, I talk to myself as if the two bright lights behind me can hear me, “what are you doing? where would you like me to go?”, I have all wheel drive but I still would rather not pretend this is some sunny perfect day, I contemplate pulling over and over and over (is that a good spot?), I do not understand pressuring drivers in this sort of weather, but I only had five scant miles to travel from the store I was at to my temporary slumber chamber, I was counting, ticking off the tenth miles on my GPS, trying to balance (tame) my mania about pulling over to let this jerk-off pass, and finally I come up on the hotel, on my left, I signal, there is only one real lane by plow, so Big Mr. Pressure behind me all of a sudden becomes a shrinking Lilly and slows down, what a dick, and they pass freeze frame slo mo as I make my left, range rover… now going slow as a sloth, slower than I was when I was the lead dog, man that is typical, but at least I am ‘home’ for the night, at least tonight, just have to find a spot, why the hell is a hotel in this area so busy on a December night ? All the well, I find an adequate spot, I debate the old ‘should I prop my wipers up’, I don’t, I just want to take a shower and crash, thankfully this place has good water pressure, ahhh, damn that is nice, relaxed, and here I am… the photo? Cape May from a couple weeks ago, it reminds me to relax, that’s all…

Cape May NJ Travel Log (part 2)… “in the dead of…”

November 27, 2019 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Preamble… yes, I know this post is out of order (this was written mostly on day 2 of my recent vacation) but I finally got all my notes together and transcribed, if you want to read up on Cape May (GO HERE), but in short let me just say, this is a place I have been coming to my entire life, it is an old shore resort town, full of history, hundreds of years old in parts… that said.. here goes….

new towns or cities just do not have the between your fingers feel, the weight, the very taste of history itself spinning slowly in the fog in the air, apparitions in plain sight, hollow sounds floating on the voice of the wind and the ever present, sometimes distant, but ever sounding crash of the waves off in the darkness, even on a night like this, dreary, drizzle hanging over or hitting your face depending on which way you turn, even on a night like this, some might shy miserable, yet, I feel drawn to walk the town, there is both something equally eerie and calming in a nearly deserted resort town, as if the buildings are exhaling from all the commotion of the summer season, homes and buildings that have literally seen and been witness to hundreds of such seasons, taking in the winter to rest their old bones, throw on some new clothes of paint, perhaps replace a beam or two, to encounter again the coming crowds and blazing sun, but that is all rear mirror now, the sun falls short in the day and never quite reaches room temperature or above, just enough light to inform and know you are awake, but in the night, the buildings can sigh, a collective hum across these old streets, this time of year is far creepier than true winter, every scrape of leaf means you are being followed, you look, and see a leaf, but are convinced otherwise, so I understand the phrase now better than I had previously, “the dead of winter”, yes, winter is more desolate, the leaves are all gone, the moon light invades and penetrates around within every inch, guardians, the trees, bare, but not tonight, a slight breeze bends the light, conjuring shadows and forms, unpredictable sights, sounds like shallow words breathed upon your neck, spirits nipping up at your legs, a cold bone finger reaches gently glances against your ear lobe, just out of your periphery but somehow felt, in these moments, strolling through this old town, as the town observes me when I think I am the observer and not just the interloper, I am unsure if I wish to find a ghostly anomaly, some proof of haunting, of life understood as after or in some other dimension, so sure would be belief if I perceived such a thing, or would the fright be more than I could bear, or the disbelief as logic might kick in and overwhelm the sense sold of my eyes, all of these things boil up inside my cauldron mind, the curiosity makes possibility lurk around every corner, surely if there were lost souls they would be here, here in this old shore town, shipwrecks, lover’s jilted, homicide guilted, accidental dispatch, all captured within the memories of these victorian walls, somewhere in a window, I am sure, I would see a form, or a passing glance, a glow, an orb, would I trust my sober nature or lay favor to my rampaging imagination, for I do not know, for I never found out, this evening, as all the creeping I perceive is the autumn playing out final tricks, before the time of the dead of has conspired, to slow down life to the point, of silence, except for the ever dull roar of the ocean waves, just over the dunes, just out of sight.

Music: Cream – As You Said

thoughts from the porch… end of vacation edition…

November 25, 2019 by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The last day, always, or at least it seems so, the cream of the crop, or at least perception be, from my hotel, the ocean is gleaming, sparkling morning sun fingers playing upon the little tiles of tide ridges, looking out my hotel window, no wind, no temperature to consider, just the visual, I walk down to take in one more final gulp of this ocean town, now, I am standing at the cusp of the beach, there is one of those small beach fences just mere kindling and chicken wire, just past the sign that warns you about there being no lifeguard, morning coffee in hand, more like my habits back on the mainland, to which I am summoned to return in a matter of hours, in retrospect, maybe this is not such a perfect day, a bit hazy, a bit cold, I close my eyes to feel the sun on my face, granted, the warming seems more mental than actual, and it is, if I concentrate for a bit I can feel the tops of my ears are quite exposed and colder, but somehow, with my eyes closed, a hazed globe shining on, the waves crashing down left to right, the occasional intrusion of the world around, am old diesel engine kicking up rattling throat, conversations about nonsense and such as people walk by, behind me on the boardwalk and benches meant for such things, I try to soak it all in, somehow capture this moment to store as long as I can, I know this is futile and fleeting but I inhale with hope anyway, moments like these choose me to ignore my reason, and my mind drifts…

I imagine the shore and the wonder of the original explorers, I think of how vast the ocean must have seemed and actually been, that moment, that eruption of emotion when they first spotted this shore, on the horizon, a hallucination for months of maritime lore, the realization that even among something so vast and unknown, had an end when no one had found such end until that initial landing, is that the pinnacle of man? discovery past known boundaries? our hope, our quest, to be at the beginning and end of that next discovery, there is, the pure seed of hope resident in that, all the despair, the lost ships and lost men, sunken lives in so many centuries past, but now what was once the impossible pass, is just to us a simple basic task, maybe that is what I was meant to take away this day, not just the same sun to bear upon my face, I open my eyes and nothing has changed, outwardly, an owner and a dog walking, a couple being a couple out on the sand in their moment of love, me, standing like an observant statue on the cusp of this beach, I reach for one more slug of my latte, take one more deeper breath, snapshot with my mind, one more look, a postcard to take away, and that lesson of hope, against the vast ocean, against the unknown, to ride the waves to where they go…

notes… no matter how many times I visit, Cape May surprises me, and now that I am reaching out to other places, there is so much history here in my garden state, and history is not just unknown things or lost battles, history is people, people who lived here and did things, we forget or are never told, but we should remember or learn, because that is ourselves in the end, the human story struck out against nature, nature will win, humans will disappear, the dinosaurs were here far longer than we, but we do not act that way, I suppose that is the way it will always be for top species… I hope there is more, out there, among the stars….

Shades of My Garden

a window into a life, a conversation with a soul, a gateway to a heart

Tag: Travel