Monday, July 15, 2013

Public versus private

Good morning from the Farmhouse


So yesterday I ran two miles, I did not run strong, I just got it out of the way. Then, because the weather was perfect, low eighties and bright sunshine, we decided it had to be a beach day. We had an application for a permit for Lambert's Cove Beach so we proceeded with confidence. No, no said the lifeguard, that is just the application, you still have to pay for a parking permit at the Tisbury School which is open between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. Graciously, he let the clueless renters in as "walk-ons" for the day but Darr and the car were shut out.

Franky and I have the same philosophy about beaching. As my father's friend put it--you can either work, or you can work on tan. We decided to work on tan all afternoon, during the peak hours of noon to 4 p.m. I read, he texts, we occasionally get in the ocean to cool off. Franky and I can do this for hours, happily. And I felt that because of the weather imperative, we had to use this good day on the beach. When my older son got off work and joined us, he said we have hit the week when the weather is supposed to be this way every day. How lucky! But it also means I may be compelled to "do other things" than work on tan.

Darr and the car went off in quest of live lobsters for dinner and he provided shuttle service to the beach and the house for snacks.

On the beach we noticed a sign that said "Do not go beyond this point, this is a private beach. Respect your neighbors."  Indeed, to our left were the people who owned their part of the beach and ocean. This is prohibited in Maine or Malibu, but in Martha's Vineyard, I guess if you pay enough, you can own a little piece of the beach and the ocean that goes with it.I kept glancing over at the private beach to see if F. Scott Fitzgerald was right about the very rich being "different from you and me." Not really, they owned more toys and boats. The people on an enormous yacht parked out at sea directly in our sight line, now they might be different from you and me.  Don't know.
The sign on the chair warns us to proceed no farther.



And the grand finale, a lobster dinner just like in Maine:
First lobster in Martha's Vineyard

 
After dinner we watched Magical Mystery Tour, the Beatles self-produced film. All I can say is I'm glad they stuck to their day jobs.

1 comment:

  1. I hot kicked off a private beach in Guilford, Ct last summer.It was early in the day and the man clearly had gotten out of bed threw on his robe and grabbed his dog and headed out to head off danger:me.

    Maybe not in Maine...

    xo Jane

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