I know it well. It is central to one of my threads, my tangents. But it is not the point of that thread. Nor is it the beginning or the end. It is really just a nugget in the story- a colorful nut that is sweet and salty.
Mardi Gras has come again and again for 24 years since I was on the ground there. I had to do the math a few times to be sure. More years since than before. But it is undoubtedly one of my formative memories.
Without Mardi Gras, I would not know that it is possible to live in such color and make your own path.
Cape Cod
It all started on Cape Cod. When I was a junior in college, my parents sent me to the Cape for spring break. That doesn't really make sense- the Cape is cold and blustery in March, and most of my classmates were going to Cancun or the Bahamas. But they all had money and I did not. My best friend and I had split because of roommate disagreements, so I was alone and discouraged. For some reason, my Yankee parents thought that spending a week alone in a motel room on the cold and empty Cape would help.
Believe it or not, it did help. But I don't know if it helped the way they intended. It guided me more into the fringe than ever, but gave me something inside to anchor myself.
During that week of solitude, I went to the beach, flew a kite, and ate. I'd never flown a kite successfully, so but there was real wind here and so it was really easy and fun. And I felt FREE. I remember running on the empty beach in the twilight and singing songs of freedom to myself. I drew the word Freedom in the sand, I didn't worry about privacy because the whole beach was mine. And the colors! The green of the sea and the blue and gray tones of the sky and clouds. It was mesmerizing.
When I left the Cape, I wanted to do MORE of that. Suddenly I felt it was ok to go places alone. I should point out that I cried the first time I was forced to order my own ice cream at a shop window. I was so shy and reserved for many reasons that are too depressing to get into here, because this is about FREEDOM and SELF. True, it's all intertwined, but I'm still pushing that back for later.
Cape May
Now I wanted to go more places alone. Where couldn't I go? My father suggested Cape May, New Jersey. It's on the shore and was about 8 hours drive from my hometown. I found an old hotel right across from the ocean- a glorious old building, the largest wood frame structure east of the Mississippi in its time, I think it was... the Hotel Macomber.
It was a family owned treasure with no TVs in the rooms. That suited me just fine, it was like stepping back into the Victorian days and I loved that. So I went in the summer.
I loved it. There was a fantastic bagel shop on the ground floor, and a boardwalk across the street. I had fudge and bought a new kite (the best kite I've ever had and I still miss it) shaped like an airplane with a 3-D body and everything. I walked on the beach and did everything I wanted, and I didn't feel lonely. Except once – I went to a fancy dinner at the fine dining establishment downstairs. They whisked away the second table setting and announced my single-ness to the world. I had my first popover (why people, why?) and the whole time I just wanted to finish eating and run away. But I survived. I've never really felt lonely eating alone since then. Then again, I never took myself to another fine dining spot.
It was so great that I went back. And the last day of my last trip, sitting on the sand in the evening light, admiring the sounds and smells of the ocean, I met Ben.
댓글