fire island for the 4th (lyn)

My friend Pam, her husband Joel, and their two kids (both classmates of Alexander’s) invite us to their home in Fire Island.  Zelia and her two kids (also classmates of Alexander’s) are also coming.  So it’ll be four adults and five teens (3 boys and 2 gorgeous girls).  And everyone is friends with everyone. 

Alexander and I leave early Sunday morning.  It’s only a one-hour trip from Manhattan to the ferry, and then about 30 minutes on the open sea.  The weather forecast for the next week is high 90’s.  My absolute worst kind of weather.

We arrive at Pam’s around 10am, and have the most perfect time.  Pam and Joel have this lovely house in the village of Ocean Beach.  On one end of the island is the town.  One main street filled with stores and restaurants and expensive food, which has to be brought over from the mainland.  A gallon of milk is $8 and the New York Times is even 50 cents more than the $2 price printed on the front page.  There are no cars allowed.  There is no bike-riding allowed (on weekends).  And, there is no open food or drink (with the exception of water) allowed once you walk out of the town. There is hardly any crime (Pam knows as she is one of the village’s two judges).  Kids can wander freely.  Parents don’t need to worry.  It’s a lot like one would imagine paradise.

Where my parents live, everyone takes golf carts to the beach.  Here, everyone takes their summer-worn wagons.  You load them up with the chairs, towels, toys, and surf boards.  It’s all so civil and convenient.

The beach is magnificent.  Miles and miles of pristine sand and large crashing waves.  Even the water is not too cold.

On Sunday, the kids and Joel are on a boat most of the day.  Zelia and Pam decide it’s too hot for the beach, so I go alone with my books and magazines.  After a couple of hours, I decide to take a three-mile walk.  I figure thirty minutes, each direction.  Should be easy.  It isn’t.  I overshoot my chair and towel and then spend two hours trying to find them.  Get home exhausted.   

Dinner is the perfect fourth feast.   Zelia mans the grill.  The girls make red-white-and-blue cupcakes.  Pam and I get the other stuff ready.  Joel ties up the two boats.  And the boys lounge in the hot tub.  I think they expect to be served dinner there as well.

I eat edamame.  A burger on a bun AND a hot dog on a roll.  Two of the tiny cupcakes.  And later, a small piece of heated up apple pie.

Walk another three miles along the beach today.  And this time I note the grey rounded house as my landmark, and easily return to my starting point.

Arrive home by 8:30.  Surprisingly we hit no traffic.  It's an ideal 4^th.