Spending The Hours - Beginning

Spending The Hours - Beginning

Some are like summer coming back every year
got your baby, got your blanket
got your bucket of beer

-James Taylor

This weekend was the unofficial start of the summer.  On Monday evening, after all had come and gone from the weekend, I found myself sitting with Max…sipping what was left of my drink.  Due to circumstances and scheduling, my ideal plans for the 3 days never materialized.  I took a moment in that solitude, Max now asleep at my feet, to reminisce of summers gone by.  Memorial Day weekend used to kick off what was a carefully orchestrated string of events, trying to squeeze every moment out of these sunny days.

Memorial Day weekend would bring the start of our Hampton’s House share.  The holiday weekends were a free for all, since all in the house were invited…including half shares.  As a ½ share myself, this gave me opportunity to mingle with the B-side to our A.  If lucky enough, you might find new friends on the other side, allowing you passage to the house on your off weekends.  My fellow coworker and I would always get a head start on this potential make or break weekend.  What better way than to take the Friday off beforehand.  Our warm up spot would reside on Dune Rd…THE road if you know the Hamptons.  Summers appropriately would be our destination.  While this bar was usually reserved for the pumped and the pretty, the weekdays were a bit different.  We would usually be among the faculty and foreigners, those who have ample time off.

One year I would not allow the weather to deter us.  An early fog and forecasters called for rain.  I convinced my pal this would not be the case.  Having roomed with a meteorologist major I had long since watched the weather channel creating my own conclusions.  We arrived at Summers only to find winter.  Bars boarded up, windows closed.  We found a lone sole packing up equipment.  It was the DJ and he informed us, Not today gentleman.  I told him my chronicle of climate.  He spotted the owner looking to leave.  The DJ offered to open one of the smaller bars for the two fellows who traveled out here for their yearly tradition.  The owner acquiesced.  It was noon and we could look across at Neptune’s Bar, barren of life.  The clock struck one and the fog began to lift.  Behind it was not the forecasted rain clouds but a brilliant bright sun…and the crowd came.  The owner emerged from his office realizing he had sent his service staff home.  He scrambled to retrieve them, as the DJ became a one-man show.  Dozens of drinkers turned into droves.  The owner finally formulated some semblance of sanity from the chaos.  He approached the DJ and stated "Can you imagine? I was closed this morning and this turned into a big money making day!"  He inquired where the young lads who braved the early morning chill and forced his bar open.  The DJ pointed to us...we would not have to pay for drinks the rest of the day.

We would head to the house conquering heroes.  Some housemates had even heard the tale of the two who forced summer to come to Summers.  It was a great start to an even better season.

With the reminiscing done for the moment, Max awoke as I headed to refill my glass.  A milk-bone for Max, and a Mike’s for Mike…I headed back poolside and fell into a dream…

Thinking of what was the next song in this summer set.

Part II Tomorrow