Writers write. That being the case, I certainly haven’t been much of a writer lately…
My summer was a hectic string of endless packing, un-packing and repacking. In past years, when I lived at the shore, my plans were made with carefree whimsy, as my mood would dictate what I was going to do in the next few moments. But that type of spontaneity was a thing of the past and this summer, I had to plan my weekend escape from Manhattan with the same tenacity and fervor of a prison break; especially when battling Holland Tunnel traffic on a Friday night.
That was the downside; the greatest downside and absolutely the only downside – otherwise, my summer was fantastic
It all began in June, when a short trip to Ukraine re-fueled my commitment to the cause of helping the beleaguered country of my heritage. This theme set the backdrop of rest of my summer, as I became actively involved with the non-profit organization, Razom. And progress has been made as stated by IMF Managing Director Christine Lagarde “What Ukraine has accomplished in such a short amount of time is nothing short of astonishing.”
I made many new friends this summer. I have always been an old soul that was attracted to the wisdom of experience, but I have gained a new-found respect for the younger generation, known as the millennials. We always knew that the millennials were going to change the rules of the game, but what we didn’t prepare for was that this younger generation with their tech-savvy ways would change the game itself. And those who haven’t kept up, are being left behind – and don’t even know it.
I have surrounded myself with positive, high-energy people in a city that sparks inspiration. I never really understood why people sacrificed the wide-open spaces, the clean fresh air and serenity of the suburbs to live, in what I thought was a congested, over-priced, rat-infested toilet. But in an “aha moment” I finally, got it – New York is like no other city when it comes to idea generation and its energy is so intense that it stimulates ideas at such a rapid and perpetual rate that creativity thrives. It’s electric.
And the electricity had thrust me forward and at times knocked the wind out of me. I landed on my ass a few times, but I dusted off and continued on my way. By the end of the summer, I was so exhausted that I needed a vacation from my summer vacation. I found peace and relaxation in Spain, where my friend and I lived out our own rendition
of a Woody Allen movie, only ours would be called “Katrina, Tamara Barcelona.” All I can say is the jamon was to die for, as for the rest, what happens in Vegas….
I stayed in high gear for the rest of August, until I put the pedal to medal and floored it into Ukie Week at Wildwood, New Jersey. Day in and day out of drinking, full-on sun and unhealthy eating sent my body into a tailspin. By the end of the week, I was so beaten up from over-indulging that my body started to revolt. I knew at that point it was time to call it quits and go home to detox….for at least a few days.
This brings us to Labor Day where a second wind blew me to Suzy-q for one last party. Now I was really done.
So, I went back to Spring Lake where a good friend of mine graciously lent me his beach house for the summer. And there, I licked my wounds for the rest of the weekend and relaxed on the beach in weather that was a picture of perfection. And so I wrote:
I sit on the beach and take it all in. A flawless crisp blue sky, disturbed only by a floating seagull, meets the ocean in a ruler straight line that creates the horizon’s infinite edge. The sound of crashing waves, gently wrestle with the wind and together they muffle any chatter made by the beach goers that are sitting close by. It is a perfect beach day and it has been preceded by a string of perfect beach days that spanned the last few weeks. I lament summer’s end.