Thursday, September 24, 2009

A long walk at Long Beach


I have heard a lot about Long Beach lately. Some folks live there, some beach there and others party there I had spent many beaching days at Long beach in high school on Sundays. No one drove or at least did not have a car to drive so we took the Long Island railroad from Jamaica. Since we were coming from different parts of Queens we would meet in the main lobby of the Jamaica terminal. This was 41 years ago, spring 1968, my senior year at Bishop Reilly. The way I remember it is that we would disembark and walk a short block to the boardwalk, then walk to the beach. I have pictures that show us all fully dressed on the beach, so I guess it was cool late spring; the photo shows the date May 1968 on the right side There were a few concessions and some of us would get lollipops The visual I have is this: we get off the train, walk a block, go under the boardwalk, find a spot and spread out our blankets. Quick, easy, short, not a long walk to the beach.
This past Saturday, I suggested to Paul that we take a ride out to Long Beach. I had not been there in 41 years. Map quest had 2 suggested itineraries. The preferred-a 22 mile trip, highway only, coming in at 39 minutes, as opposed to a 12 mile trip, no highways, at exactly the same total time of 39 minutes. We opted for no highway as it would be more picturesque and familiar, the way we travel to the Malverne theater.
The trip is full of Saturday sights, and after the promised MapQuest trip delivered us in 39 minutes; we arrive, park, and marvel that we could do so without unloading tons of quarters into meters and/or being threatened with unfriendly towing signs. We walk up to the boardwalk. Wow! What a diversity of walkers and bikers. We decide to go left as I felt the train station was that way. My quest in this outing was to locate and revel in the nostalgia of the LIRR trips to Long Beach in high school. A hidden agenda was to imbibe a cool drink, perhaps a Mojito, at a trendy place along the boardwalk. This was not revealed to Paul-did not want to overload our mission-spousal prerogative. I figured after walking for a while Paul would readily agree we deserved a reward. The day was stellar and the boardwalk loaded with a diverse crowd doing a variety of activities. There were those who have never been through the sunscreen revolution and were practically nude, proud of their wrinkled scorched skin, as well as those who just looked good with sunscreen. We had bikers who seemed to be unable to ride within their guidelines. We had several folks doing push ups on the boardwalk, ouch! splinters. It was Rosh Hashanah, so we had men dressed in suits and ties, women in heels, diamond brooches and hats. Beach volleyball surfing, walking along the beach. And the condos! They are spectacular, 1-2 million apiece-so the signs proclaim. And pretty people are gazing down from their balconies So much to soak in. The water is sparkling "The ocean is sprinkled with diamonds," I announce" pleased with my much used, yet apt description . Paul- "What do you mean?" Me- "Okay, like zircons or rhinestones," thinking Paul is not too familiar with diamonds. Paul- "Oh, you mean the water. yes, I see the diamonds, zircons and rhinestones." We envision Liam on the beach lower right-he would love it ." We walk on-more walkers, exercisers, sleepers, readers, sitters, sunners, sinners. We reach the end of the boardwalk I am wearing my Mountain Lake (Dirty Dancing filmed there) sweatshirt, as a tribute to Patrick Swayze
No train station in sight, and no cutesy little oasis for a drink. Okay, must be at the other end. I knew I would walk to the other end no matter how far, but also knew at some point Paul would ask "How much longer, we have walked a long time. Well, it is named Long Beach!
We passed the ramp where we had come aboard, and now were on our way to other end of the boardwalk where the train station is-had to be, I spot a rather fine looking restaurant/ bar and on looking up realized this is a fancy hotel. I locked it in my brain for a stop in later. We keep walking and walking.
Then it happened. Paul-"I am not walking forever." Me-"No, of course not." In my head, I know the boardwalk has to end. What if it goes to Breezy Point, then through Brooklyn, then to the New York Harbor, then to Europe? I kept these fears to myself. We have been walking for one hour and 45 minutes. I try to keep it interesting by pointing out naked people, dressed people, dogs who should not be there-yes, Liam was not allowed-he would fit right in but apparently many Long Beachers ignore this rule and dogs hang here
I point out planes-and boats-Paul loves both and we had a plane swooping in for a JFK airport landing every few minutes. We again imagine Liam on the beach -see our lad-
The huge planes keep Paul interested for a bit, had there been some blimps, it would have been perfect, but none that day.
Then again from Paul "I am not walking forever." Me -"I think I see the end. there it is. See that yellow low cottage." Was it? Yes. We get to the end. No train station.. Where is the train? What about my memory? We walk off the boardwalk, there is no train station. We agree to go back on the boardwalk.
I now announce-"Let's stop in at that spa like hotel for a drink. We deserve it." Acquiescence.
The walk to the bar seems like forever. AAh we arrive. The place is indeed a luxury hotel, "The Allegria" with a lively bar at which we get seats. Yay. I get my Mojito and Paul his Sam Adams. The bar is peopled with young woman bartenders whose uniform is a skin tight black top with a zipper paired with equally second skin pants. The zipper is zipped up or zipped down (depending on one's point of view) just to the line of demarcation. I knew ordering a Mojito with its requisite limes and mint leaves would cause the bartender to lean, giving a view, but I risked it in order to preclude an attack of scurvy to myself, since I seldom eat fruit except in drinks. No view, she bent from the knees, and I got my doses of vitamin C.
We toasted Happy New Year 5770, we cheer on all holidays- and speculate, "Where is the Long Beach LIRR? " I prolong the drink by eating the lime, rind and all plus all the mint leaves. No one else does this at the bar. What if they reused them? I am saving someone from used fruits as well as a scurvy epidemic.
Having cleaned the glasses of every drop, we head out, back to the car, declare it a perfect late summer outing.
Back at home I jump on the PC. I key in Long Beach LIRR. The station is not near the boardwalk, is very close to town. How and when did that happen? I look at the pictures from 1968. None of the train station itself. Pix from the train, from the beach, but none showing the station. I do not get it. Why has the station moved back 2 miles in 41 years?

I also check out the Allegria hotel-it is a luxury one -very very upscale, they accept pets, yay. Liam can come-I try to find a room -none available, ever. The rates start at $549 per night, extra for Liam. Oh well. We will not be staying here.

Liam enjoys the last licks of summer, the shadows of the chair painting black lines on his body and a big sigh. the brilliance of the slanting light
AAH, life is good, a luxury hotel out back is enough sometimes.


Woof, Woof Aroooooooooooo, shhhhhshh let sleeping dogs lie