throwback summer vacation thursday

We are now in our first full week of summer vacation, which has me thinking about summers of the past ...

No castle this, the kid helps make a sand fortress

Three generations on the beach

Loving cousins

At the Avon Inn

throwback thursday: mom's pastels

So why do I take so many beach photos? Maybe because I remember spending evenings at the beach watching my mom draw with pastels ...

city girl no more

Continuing my country mouse, city mouse theme ...

I have lived at least half of my life in cities. Big ones. But I am finally learning that you can take the girl out of the country (or away from the beach), but you can't take the beach out of the girl.

As we planned our recent summer vacation to the Jersey Shore I had fully intended to spend a few hours in New York, either on the way in, or the way out, or both. But on our ride out from the airport, it quickly became clear that wasn't going to happen. Not only did it take forever to get the rental car and get the hell out of town (note to self — when going to Jersey, never fly into to La Guardia again), but that trip through town was more than enough of a taste of New York for me and my daughter.

The best thing about flying into LaGuardia is definitely the view

It's amazing how quickly the hectic pace can get under your skin. The traffic was (not surprisingly) horrendous, but it also gave me the opportunity to stop and gawk like a tourist and see what had changed. Driving through midtown we got some fabulous views of the Empire State Building. And also of Times Square. I have spent some time in New York since last I lived there — we spent Thanksgiving in midtown about five years ago — but this time all of the Blade Runner-esque video screens really made me feel like I was in the middle of some hectic soda commercial. Not a feeling I am really looking to experience.

Approaching the Empire State Building

Stuck in traffic, below - but we got a great shot

Our relaxed time at the beach was so wonderful that I couldn't even imagine cutting it short to battle for a few hours with the crowds and pace of the city. The drive back confirmed that feeling. Our rental car, which had behaved perfectly for ten days while I tooled up and down the Jersey Shore, to Long Beach Island and back again, started to give me an error message and red overheating signal as we idled in blistering midtown traffic. It was like a scene from a movie, with a red bar increasing on the control panel and the countdown to the shutting down of the car in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 ...

I turned the whole car off, and luckily, a traffic cop had us sit through two lights while he allowed pedestrians to navigate Times Square. When he finally motioned us forward, I tentatively started up the engine and the red signal was, thankfully, gone. We made it safely to the airport, although it was a nerve-racking drive, and reported the mishap. Freak occurrence? Omen? I'm not sure.

Will I ever vacation in New York again? I'm sure I will. But I definitely got the message loud and clear as to what I want from my life (and maybe always have). A more relaxed pace. Near the water. And with as few red signals and dramatic countdowns as possible.

jersey girl

Although it's been over three weeks since we returned from our Jersey Shore vacation, I haven't had a lot of time to process it all yet. We've been adjusting to going back to school, and getting our first colds of the school year (I seemed to get it worse than the kid, go figure).

I grew up at the Shore, and there is always an element of nostalgia in coming back. I was afraid that might be the only thing pulling me there, and was presently surprised that wasn't the case. Yes, it is always fun to drive around and see what has survived since my childhood days and be disappointed in what hasn't (this year's big heartbreak — Freedman's Bakery is no more.) But there is something else going on, too. Going home isn't just about memories, it's also about physically connecting to a place. I live by the ocean in Florida, but it is still renewing and refreshing to dip my toes in the cold Atlantic of New Jersey, the ocean of my childhood. Maybe it's in my DNA.








There is also something about the pace that I love. I grew up in a vacation spot. I seem to have always wanted to live where everyone, i.e., tourists, want to come and visit, whether it be the beach, or a major city like New York or Washington, D.C.

As much as I enjoyed my time in those urban metropolises, the other thing that seemed crystal clear to me on this recent vacation was how much I love the beach lifestyle. Ron Jon's anyone? I may never have learned to surf, but I completely connect with a slower, more relaxed vibe. Like the "salt life" stickers you see on cars everywhere down here, I connect to the ocean, the salt air, the sand in my toes.

Where we live now, Palm Beach, can be a bit fancy sometimes, but that's not what I'm about, and it's not why I'm here. It's the ocean, across the road, that calls me. And I can't help but answer, "Hello, old friend."

throwback thursday: what exit?

This week as we continue to enjoy our Jersey Shore vacation, here's a look back at an earlier trip to the beach.






By the way, we took exit 7A on the Turnpike.

throwback thursday: jer-sey!

We are off for a Jersey Shore vacation today. Yes, we may live by the beach year-round, but there's something about Jersey and going home. Plus, the kid and I haven't had a long break in a really long time. Really looking forward ...

throwback thursday: jersey shore vacations

I grew up at the Jersey Shore, so every childhood summer was usually spent there, with family and friends coming to visit us. Later years in NY and DC had me a bit land-locked, so I was happy to be able to drive to Jersey for the occasional vacation. I have taken the kid a few times over the past few years, but last year was the one she really remembered, and now she wants us to start our own tradition. So in honor of my booking an August vacation at the Shore, here are some pics from past beachy times.

I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for mom (left) and her girlfriends thinking that the Shore was a great  place for a summer vacation from the city

Hanging out poolside at the Avon Inn, where my grandmother always stayed when she would visit us

One of my mom's effortless pastels, of me trying to fly a kite on the boardwalk

The kid checking out a jetty

Having fun on the rides at Jenkinson's pavilion

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grannie endora

When I was a kid my favorite television show was Bewitched. Mostly because I wanted to be as cute and hip as Samantha, and be able to twitch my nose and make magical things happen. But there was also something else about the show that I liked. Endora. She was the ultimate nosy mother-in-law, and the bane of Darrin (Derwood, Darwin)'s existence. But she also represented a different kind of grandmother image. And I needed that.

A disapproving Endora (Agnes Moorehead) considers her daughter Samantha (Elizabeth Montgomery).

Endora loves her granddaughter Tabitha (Erin Moran).

My dad's mom, my Italian grandmother, was everything we are brought up to expect a grandmother should be. She was a great babysitter when my parents needed her, and an even greater cook. She may not have baked cookies, but she made amazing southern Italian dishes — from caponata to pasta and beyond. She also made delicious coffee cakes.

Grandma and me. She also made the dress I'm wearing.

Glamorous Gran'mere, on vacation in Hawaii.

But my mother's mother, "Gran'mere," as we were encouraged to call her, was a different kind of grandmother entirely. She was exotic and glamorous. She was a world traveler who we would only get to see when she made it to our neck of the woods in New Jersey. She was also very loving, much like the eccentric Endora was to little Tabitha on Bewitched. Could a grannie dress in such a fancy way and still be your grannie? Thanks to a pop culture sitcom, I felt that she could.

Neither Endora nor my Gran'mere Mariette ever baked any chocolate chip cookies that I know of. But I bet if either Tabitha or I wanted some, Endora would have produced them with an elegant wave of her hand, and my grandmother would have surely taken us out, dressed to the nines, for some delicious dessert.

spring lake panorama

Still on vacation ... at least mentally ...

seagulls on the beach

so where're we goin' for dinner?

In total vacation mode, deciding where to eat is the big decison(s) of the day.

The best mussels I've ever had, made with artichokes, mushrooms and hazelnut (!) sauce

A Jersey version of Insalata Caprese (mozzarella and tomato salad)

Hot chocolate on the hotel porch every evening

happy birthday, mom

Born 80 years ago today ...

Glamorous Mom is on the left, with friends at the Jersey Shore

back to the beach

It might seem strange for someone who lives so close to the beach, but I am really looking forward to our upcoming Jersey Shore vacation. I have realized that I haven't had a real vacation, a real break, since long before we moved down here. I haven't been on a plane since the kid was just a tiny one. So anyway, next week I will be leaving my beachy home to go stroll along the beach where I grew up. And I can't wait.

the case of the broken glass

The first year that I went to college, art school, Parsons School of Design in New York City, I lived in their "dorms," a few floors in a high-rise on Union Square. The understanding was that by the end of the year students would need to find other accommodations  to make room for next year's influx of art students. I looked at a few places over the summer, but nothing was working out, until I lucked into a place in Park Slope, sharing it with a girl who modeled in one of my art classes. The real bonus was that as nice as she was, she spent a lot of time at her boyfriend's place, so for the most part, although it sometimes got lonely, I had a large, railroad apartment to myself. During that sophomore year my roommate eventually moved out, and when one of my classmates found himself out of his latest digs I was more than willing to share my good fortune, telling him to come and stay until he found his own place.

I was a bit of a stray collector in those days. I never intended to have my classmate become my permanent roommate, but if that had worked out, I probably would have been fine with it. But that's not how things worked out. It's always hard to live with people. We all have our quirks. I had grown up with a brother, so I was used to hair left in the shower, or the toilet seat being up. Those really weren't  a big deal. But being sneaky or dishonest was a deal-breaker.

"A Broken Glass," by Kit Umscheid

So what happened? 

We were living in Brooklyn, but we both would also still go home and visit our families on the weekend from time-to-time; my family in New Jersey, his in upstate New York. I had returned from such a weekend to find a sink full of dishes — again, not exactly a big deal, just a small annoyance. I didn't have that many glasses or dishes, so would have to wash what was in the sink to be able to use them. I turned on the water and grabbed a sponge and some dish soap and started washing the plates and forks, my mind drifting. I then reached for a juice glass, putting the sponge inside, and turning it, twisting it, to get the suds over the inside of the glass. Suddenly I glanced down into the sink and wondered why it reminded me of the shower scene in Psycho. Blood was swirling down the drain. I looked from the bottom of the sink to the glass and my hand. My hand was bleeding, between the thumb and index finger. The glass had been broken, perfectly, horizontally, and then put back together. Put back into the sink. As if done by a three year old. Maybe she won't find out. She won't know that I did it. What a jerk. Luckily, the gash wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches, but I still have a scar.

I gave him until the end of the week. I never really got angry with him, or scolded him, or told the story (much), but we were never really friends after that incident. Understandably. A few months later, as I was going through some of my books in a bookcase I heard something drop down to the floor behind it. I fished out the object. It was my grandmother's pinking shears, broken, hidden behind some pieces of trimmed cardboard. He had used my seamstress grandmother's pinking shears to cut thick cardboard for some project. And then apparently broken them and hidden them. What sort of infantile behavior would do crap like this? Twice?

Things get broken. It happens. But every once in a while I have to wonder how and why this brand of sneakiness, something that I have dealt with on occasion with my daughter — who's nine years old — had extended into adulthood. Granted, twenty-somethings are not as grown-up as they think they are, but to put a broken glass back in a sink instead of just throwing it out. It still boggles my mind.

jersey nostalgia

I was driving behind this truck the other day and it reminded me of summertimes in the New Jersey shore when I was a kid. Did we buy fresh corn off the back of a truck? Probably.

you can take the girl out of jersey ...

... but the ability to play Skee Ball is something one never forgets.


And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

some more mom treasures

Over the holiday break I have been doing some "spring" cleaning and have found some more of my mom's old sketchbooks. These two drawings are from 1983, the year she left (my dad and) New Jersey for a new life in Florida.

I find this first drawing particularly fun. My mom was always sketching, but I had no idea that she sketched my favorite '80s band, The Clash. She captured Mick Jones and Joe Strummer on television singing "Should I stay or Should I go" and "Straight to Hell." They must have been promoting Combat Rock. I even remember that sleeveless shirt of Joe's. Joe!

She must have done this drawing soon after arriving here at her mother's — my grandmother's — apartment in Florida. Our view from the same balcony hasn't changed very much all these years later.

50 things

Celebrating a birthday makes one look backward as well as forward. I thought it might be nice, if a tad self-indulgent, to jot down some favorite memories, or things that have made me smile over the years. If you can't be self-indulgent around the time of your birthday, when can you? These don't get overly personal or intimate — I like to keep that sort of stuff to myself — and are in no particular chronological or prioritized order, except #1, of course.

1. The birth of my daughter.



It doesn't get much cuter than this.

2. Deciding to go to art school/move to New York City.
3. My asking to play the Middle Billy Goat Gruff in 1st Grade, a part that had been originally intended for a boy. Our teacher presented the roles in the school play as boys will be billy goats and girls will be flowers. Then she went around the room and asked who wanted to play what part. I was familiar with the story and knew that I wanted to be one of the three leads. It was probably the first time I really sounded off for myself, and tried to grab a bit of the spotlight. The pattern was formed.



My grandmother made the costume. The tinfoil horns were genius.

4. Starting my blog. It's led to so many good things for me, for my mind, for my well-being.
5. The homemade ice cream at T-Cone in Shipbottom, Long Beach Island, in New Jersey. I loved their strawberry, but the blueberry was out of this world and my absolute favorite.
6. All of the wonderful people I have met in my life so far. Thankfully things like the internet have helped us keep in contact, or reconnect after many years.
7. Appearing off-off-Broadway at the Henry Street Settlement in George C. Wolfe's Return to Glutten, where I got to act (and sing!) on stage.
8. Getting a sell-out crowd for two nights for a performance piece I co-wrote, Flesh, in New York; and a positive review in The Washington Post for my role in a dance/performance art piece I co-produced, Hammer.
9. Happy cocktail hours with good friends — with my daughter in tow — in Washington D.C.



The greatest opening that I ever attended at MoMA.

10. Getting dressed up for the Warhol opening at MoMA and bumping into Steve Martin, who, said "Excuse me!" He was hanging with his friends Julian Schnabel and Paul Simon.
11. Hanging out in the East Village and beyond in the '80s with friends — Dojo's, the Blue & Gold, the Holiday, the Kiev, the Pyramid, Danceteria — the list goes on and on.
12. My junior year at Parsons was wonderful. I had great teachers and was given the freedom to express myself and worked in all media — painting, drawing, sculpture, performance, you name it. The following year, my senior year, was unfortunately oppressive and just a countdown to graduation.



Rutger Hauer from Blade Runner facing out, and Mary and me on the right

13. Plastering New York City with posters publicizing Guilt Free Enterprise, a company, or more accurately, a state of mind, formed by my friend Mary and myself. My brother, on a weekend leave from the Navy, helped us guerrila-decorate.
14. Lying on a blanket in the middle of Central Park in the summertime, with wine, bread, cheese, and friends, and staring at the stars while a Metropolitan Opera star sang Puccini.
15. Running out of candy on Halloween night when I was in 3rd grade — my dad set up his telescope and gave looks at the full moon to the late trick-or-treaters and my brother and I got to stay up, too.
16. Seeing a movie in seventh grade science class about Stonehenge and saying to myself that one day I would go there. And being able to make that dream come true many years later on a trip with my mom to London.
17. Being lucky enough to get my 11th grade English teacher Mr. Brown, who recognized how much I loved to read and just made me want to learn more and more.



A large-scale photo collage I did for drawing class

18. Painting and drawing while my record player blasted Sandinista.
19. Having an "aha" moment, whether in relation to something in a meeting at work, in front of a blank piece of paper or screen, or just walking somewhere peaceful, where my mind can open up and receive new ideas.
20. Holiday celebrations with my family, where I'd get to see my cousins and aunts and uncles and eat Grandma's amazing food.
21. Turning 20, visiting home in New Jersey from New York, and lying outside in the front yard, looking at the stars at midnight. It was a nice feeling being separate from my family, but having them nearby, while being one with the universe. It seemed a fitting way to bid goodbye to my teenage years.
22. Visiting Venice during acque alte.
23. Getting my first car, a golden Acura Integra.
24. Requesting a lemon cake with orange icing for my fifth birthday — and getting one (and then many years later, having a friend try to replicate that cake again for me).
25. Writing a story about a little red fish for school when I was in first or second grade — my dad was so impressed with it he took us out after dinner and bought us a fish tank, full of tropical fish — and a red platy, which I named after my character, Redert.
26. Flying to Palm Beach, Florida on my own, at the age of 14, to visit my grandmother. She took me everywhere, introduced me to all of her friends. I had my first vichysoisse, went to Lion Country Safari, saw polo, and rode on an elephant. And now I live here.



A very serious, or very tired, 14 year-old

27. Buying my first legal drink, at 18, at the Lone Star Cafe, across the street from Parsons School of Design, and just around the corner from where my dorm was on Union Square.
28. The first time I was on an airplane, at age 8, visiting my grandmother in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I'll never forget the thrill or the feeling when the plane's wheels left the ground.
29. My first taste of my Grandma's sfincioni.
30. Visiting Greece with my mom, seeing so many places I had read about for as long as I could remember, like the Acropolis and Delphi, and being surprised and amazed by the difference in terrain as we moved through the country — hot in Athens, snow in Meteora, temperate in Corinth.
31. The frescoes in the Palais des Papes at Avignon.
32. The Botticellis at the Uffizi in Florence.
33. Having the ocean so close, the feel of sand under my toes.



It's hard to beat that view

34. Impressing my mom and cousin Ann and Aunt Paula with my Italian while we were traveling in Italy. I really just had enough to get by, but they loved that I could converse with the Roman taxicab drivers and get us around the city.
35. Staying up late and whispering with my brother, debating when Santa would come.
36. Visiting Mont St. Michel and staying out on the plain after we returned to the mainland from the city — we were waiting to see it in the sunset, not realizing that in the summer the sun doesn't set until long after 10 p.m. — but the sight was well worth the wait.
37. The Gainsboroughs at the Frick in New York.



"The Hon. Frances Duncombe," by Thomas Gainsborough, Frick Collection, N.Y.

38. Spending enough time in Florence to really feel that I could live there, that I knew the city. Maybe someday ...
39. Inheriting my dad's insatiable curiosity and life-long student status. There is always a topic of interest that I want to research and know more about.
40. Traveling to Paris by myself and day-tripping all over the place — Versailles, Chartres, Giverny, and the medieval walled town of Provins.
41. My mom making me feel that I could do anything, achieve anything, and that she would always be there for me.
42. My mom's idea of a lullaby for my brother and me — tucking us in as the Beatles' Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds drifted up from the stereo downstairs.



Probably waiting for Roy White or Thurman Munson to come to bat.

43. Going to see the Yankees games with my dad, from childhood to adulthood — just the two of us went one time, while I was living on my own in New York.
44. My first glimpse of the Pyramids.
45. Having a sense of humor, in pretty much all circumstances.
46. TV shows, books, and movies that have moved me or entertained me that I can share with friends and family, and being able to talk about them later over dessert, which helped hone my critical skills.
47. Going on a road trip to Kentucky with my cousin Ann, and the millions of other journeys we took together before and after the birth of my daughter.



Celebrating at Obama's Inaguaration



The kid took this picture of Ann and me at The National Arboretum, one of our favorite haunts in D.C.

48. Being able to share my love of family with my mom and other relatives. My mom, daughter, and I recently took a trip to Salem, Massachusetts after I discovered one of our ancestors was one of the first to be accused and executed as a result of the Salem Witch Trials. History is amazing and always brings us back to human nature.
49. Any opportunity that I get to sing.
50. Knowing that if I put my mind to it, this list could go on and on and on. I've got lots of fun things to remember and share. I'm sure we all do, if we sat down and thought about it for a while.