Monday
It was September of 2006 that I took a week off from work.
I planned on doing some things around the house, smoke some cigars and drink some Guinness.
I had a few extra days to play around with and decided to visit my friend Michael who lives on Cape Cod.
I left early on Tuesday morning and planned to meet Michael for breakfast before deciding what to do for the day.
We met at a place in West Dennis called ‘Grumpy’s’.
It was your basic ‘hole-in-the-wall’ breakfast place but the knotty pine that lined the inside walls seemed to say, “You will eat well, old man.”
The aroma of frying bacon and sautéed onions wafted towards us as we walked in and made my empty stomach stand at attention. (but can a stomach do that?)
Grumpy’s was the farthest thing from grumpy and the coffee was very close to excellent.
I ordered two eggs, over real easy, bacon, home fries and raisin toast.
No surprise there.
Can’t remember what Michael ordered but I do remember we both rolled out of there like the older men that we’re slowly learning to be.
After a Grumpy breakfast we decided to go back and drop off my truck before heading to the beach for the day.
And although it was mid-September, the temperature was @75 – 80° with pure cobalt skies.
“Want me to bring a cooler? We can stop on the way and throw some beer on ice,” Michael said.
A man after my own heart, I thought.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, “And we’re covered on cigars.”
We got to Cahoon’s Hollow around 9:45 with 2 beach chairs and a BAC (big ass cooler) in tow.
I couldn’t believe how warm it was; a kiss of Indian Summer.
The beach was totally deserted, save for Michael and I.
With a shoreline as expansive as the Hollow it seemed almost surreal.
Me, Michael and the beach.
We planted our chairs a good distance from the entrance and sat in silence for a bit.
The warm, salty breeze and brilliant sunshine took us both away.
The sunshine was like millions of tiny fires flittering on the surface of the water,
rising and falling methodically with the tide, a natural aquatic pendulum.
The blue raspberry sky told both of us that this was going to be a very special day.
“Want a cigar?” I asked.
“Want a beer?” Michael asked.
We both started laughing like two little boys playing hooky from school.
With cigars lit and beers opened we chatted the morning away, one blessed sip at a time.
I can’t even remember what cigars I brought.
They may have been Cuban, but truth be told rolled up dogshit would have tasted good that day.
Michael and I have always had the ability to talk forever.
Doesn’t matter if I haven’t seen him in 10 years (God forbid), we have some serious history.
(Remember Treasure Valley, Deg?)
And lot’s of it.
We weren’t alone for very long before we began seeing things popping up in the surf.
From my vantage point, the ‘things’ looked like shiny obsidian bowling balls.
“Seals,” Michael said, flatly.
pop.pop.pop.pop.pop.pop.pop.
It seemed like they were popping up everywhere.
And it seemed like we were placed there just to see them.
I wish I could put the day in a bottle and open it whenever I needed it.
My own private and saving grace.
Maybe writing it down is a step in the right direction.
But maybe Laho would vehemently disagree . . .
best kind of friends. don’t need to see them all the time. seems they’re there just at the right time! great memory…
Wow, this sure sounds like the best day!
I love the quiet beach! It’s great to find one of those these days. I love the picture too. Beautiful!
‘Think Summer’
There is nothing like the unspoken language of friendship….great story…
kim
I think you bottled it very nicely right here, complete with warm sun, gentle surf, and salt sea air.
friends like that are the best, aren’t they- you just pick up wherever you left off.
wonderful tale
True friends are indeed one of lifes treasures…
They have the ability to make you feel good no matter what the circumstances of your life, and are worth far more than anything else we can gather to us in our time on earth…
Days such as this are bottled in your mind, never to be lost, and always handy when you feel the need to smile.
I look forward to meeting, and sharing a few drinks with, both Michael’s…
I read both posts, M. Sounds like an amazing place! I would love to have witnessed the seals.
This was a great line:
“I wish I could put the day in a bottle and open it whenever I needed it.”
You’ve got me wondering what day I would put in a bottle – probably a grey day in the little coastal village of Doolin in Ireland (on my honeymoon).
Hope you are well,
Kat