Life on the Road

“C’mon, Aunt Stephanie!”

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!” We both lurch forward as if we’re going to leap off the dock– but our feet remain firmly planted. I giggle– I knew my 10 year old nephew was psyching me out. He knew I was playing the same game. A half a minute later, we both fly into the air at the same time, hitting the water in concert– sploosh! SPLOOSH!

This is one of those rare, wonderful, inexpensive vacation days. We’re at the free city beach. An earlier downpour has chased away all but the hardiest of beach-goers, so we almost have the place to ourselves. Two $3 plastic buckets, and suddenly we are builders of fine castles in the sand. Give us $2 in quarters and we have parking for the 2 hours we need before we all get a little too tired and are ready to head home.

In a time when just getting there can cost $10 or more, depending on your mileage, it’s nice to have these local haunts. The beaches that everyone knows about but the tourists rarely visit. Or that bend in the river where it forms a nice little pool, not so fast it’s unsafe to swim (Hudson River, just north of Warrensburg, on Highway 9).

I look on these days and see kids riding bicycles down a hill in sepia tones, and realize I’m recalling a memory of a lemonade commercial, designed specifically to induce nostalgia and open wallets. How sad, to imagine how much of our lives and memories are shaped by Madison Avenue’s machinery! Oh, to long for the halcyon, carefree, ad-free days of our youth….!

Who am I kidding? I could (and still can) recite the McDonald’s menu chant, and I had every My Pretty Pony released between 1982 and 1986. I suppose growing up ad-driven is as American as…. apple pie (served piping hot in a little cardboard sleeve!)