Swimming on my birthday (May 13) is a dicey proposition in Maryland. The Rock Hall post prompted this memory.
Is my pride in analysis warranted or misplaced?
I start testing the Chesapeake Bay temperature in late April. The results fall into one of these categories:
- Run away
- Okay…..not really
- Nice enough
This year’s results: 4. Okay…..not really. I swam for 10 minutes anyway.
If I can swim before Memorial Day Weekend…..Score! Success!
I wanted a quiet birthday weekend a few years ago: swimming, listening to music, art galleries, and some shopping. Rock Hall, opposite my usual spot on the Chesapeake Bay fit my needs.
The tiny beach with an expansive view across the Chesapeake Bay….. fantastic for relaxing swims and picnics. Friendly folks and cheerful small talk…..I really enjoyed it.
A fantastic intimate music venue right in town, the Mainstay, had Dick Durham and Stef Scaggiari, a super piano concert. World famous musicians often perform at the Mainstay in sleepy Rock Hall.
Seafood galore, yummy blueberry waffles for breakfast, and lunch to go…..I love eating on the beach. I love eating! Casual, relaxed, delicious dining is a Rock Hall specialty.
The shops on Main Street and Oyster Court, including a farmers market surprised me with several gifts (including one for me) and more goodies (strawberries) for lunch on the beach.
Go, for a peaceful, relaxing, seafood-full weekend, visit Rock Hall.
Does plunging count as swimming? On New Year’s Day in New York…..Yes!
Thinking about Straphangers yesterday prompted me to remember my first Polar Bear Plunge. I screamed at the shock of the cold water! My friends and I laughed and giggled and grinned.
I’m the one in the bathing cap. I love the Polar Bear Plunge.
Here’s proof we plunged.
New Year’s weekend 2014 I drove up to New York to visit a friend.My dog, Brave, a fine travel companion and, usually, a good guest accompanied me.
Yikes! He barked and barked when we left her home.
Rover to the rescue. A guy in Bushwick about a half hour from my friend in Ridgewood could care for my dog.
After dropping the dog off I found these straphangers in the Gates Ave. station.
I love taking my dog to the beach during the winter. Often we’re alone. I love finding evidence that others enjoy the cold breezes and winter skies at the beach.
Swimming….I love it. Pools are OK.
I’m home when I’m swimming in natural water.
A toddler in the early 1960’s….the ocean….splashing in the waves at Rockaway Beach. We summered in a rented bungalow on Beach 98th St. half a block form the subway and half a block from Playland. I lived in paradise all summer long.
In 1968 during day trips to Rockaway Beach, Dad taught us to body surf. Body surfing….free….easy….fantastic.
My brother, his friends and I competed for longest rides. We traded war stories about scraped chests. In 1971 I learned to check that my bikini top was in the right place.
“Mom, can I go to the beach with my friends?” Mom sighed, “if your sister goes.” And later, “take your little sister.” Summers in junior high and high school meant 2 hour subway rides each way to Rockaway Beach.
While there are no waves in the Chesapeake Bay, my go to spot is 20 – 3o minute drive and I feel free….easy….fantastic.
I grew up in NYC.
During the early 1980’s I worked and went to college.
My commute home to Ridgewood often meant walking a long underground tunnel between 7th Ave (the 1,2,3 IRT Line) and 6th Ave (the LL..now L…BMT Line).
Seeing Keith Haring’s chalk drawings in that tunnel made me smile, grin, and giggle. I loved them. I think lots of people loved them. People, other taggers, left them alone. The drawings lasted until the subway workers put up posters or new black paper.
This post resultd from remembering the way no one believed my stories of seeing black and white Keith Haring art in that tunnel. Really people!
Here’s Keith’s own words:
“One day, riding the subway, I saw this empty black panel where an advertisement was supposed to go. I immediately realized that this was the perfect place to draw. I went back above ground to a card shop and bought a box of white chalk, went back down and did a drawing on it. It was perfect–soft black paper; chalk drew on it really easily.”
So I forgive the naysayers.
Keith Haring Art in the Subway in Black & White