Memorial Day

Growing up on Long Island, Memorial Day meant the public beaches were open for summer. It was a big deal. My friends and I used to walk down to Wantagh Avenue, and catch a bus to another bus -- the Jones Beach Express. It cost 25 cents, and deposited us right in the middle of the action --Parking Lot 4. From there, we'd walk to the beach, set up blankets, and wait for gorgeous girls from other high schools to wander over. That rarely happened. And now I live in Miami, home of far superior beaches, and almost never go. My friend Stuart is the opposite -- he's there, with his family, nearly every weekend. Sometimes he calls me from the water's edge and says "I'm doing something you haven't done in 20 years!" That invariably leads to joking conversation... I guess I loke the idea of the beach more than the actual beach. I also like to go there during off hours -- to reflect. Gazing out at the ocean is replenishing. And now, both my parents are there -- more reason to visit. So maybe I'll fire up the man Buick this weekend and go. Miami Beach is out -- Urban Beach Weekend packs in the tourists -- and the place is too nuts to visit. But Key Biscayne beckons -- maybe a walk around the lighthouse. D2 went the other day, with her boyfriend. They went to his uncle's condo in Sunny Isles, and did the beach the upscale way. We owned an ocean front condo on Miami Beach -- from '97- '99. The views were spectacular -- and the beach was just down some stairs from the lobby. We went there infrequently -- the Ds seemed to have every weekend booked with dance and other young girl activities. My sister Sue and our friends got more use out of the condo than we did. One afternoon I was there alone -- had a few drinks, and did some early evennig beachcombing. I found a large piece of coral rock -- and schlepped it to the condo. It was a doorstop for the patio door. Here I have a large piece of coral rock, too. Whenever I push it in front of our family room door, I recall the ocean condo. We did spend Memorial Day weekends there, when we owned it. But the place was PACKED -- and it took forever for the valet to fetch our car when we wanted to go out for dinner. This weekend -- I think I'll drive to the beach myself. And reflect on my Dad and Mom, and childhood, and the Ds...as they embark on their true adulthoods. MEmorial Day.