It’s that time of year again, Montauk. I bring the guitar, laptop and a notebook filled with half-baked ideas and whatever happens, happens. Montauk Driftwood helps. You could say that it’s a routine. Silent Moon has many nautical references and this place is the reason. Montauk has changed over the years, and not for the better. We’ve since moved away from the town center and now stay along the Old Montauk Highway. It’s good to be back, and have ourselves drowned again by the sounds of the crashing ocean and crickets at night. All lit of course, by a silent moon.
As Marisa reads by the water, I’ve been slipping out for adventurous drives in the new car. I tune into some obscure chatty AM radio station, turn it down low and explore the winding wooded roads towards the north shore. I found an empty shoreline with two antique chairs facing the water side by side, I plan on returning with Marisa at some point. Seagulls flew in front of the car dropping shellfish on the road and returning to eat the squashed remains my wheels left behind in an unsettling display of animal intelligence. This along with them trying to steal my food on the beach through ever more increasingly genius methods each day has convinced me that seagulls will soon be our new overlords.
Today I drove to Camp Hero and viewed the abandoned military ruins. I’d been meaning to do this on every previous visit to Montauk but wandering through the empty park long after the tourists had returned to the city was worth the wait.
I also discovered a farmers market on my return trip, the produce of which is being cooked up by Marisa while I type this. Did you know there is such a thing as Tiger Tomatoes, or is it Zebra Tomatoes? I could ask again but I’ve been told ten times already. Anyway, they’re stripped and look pretty awesome. We’re keeping them for tomorrow.
Later, with chilled beer and marshmallows we will set up a fire on the beach and resist the urge to go running into the waves. Although I swam a little today, we discovered that we are far more adventurous when drinking. This Saturday armed with some ungodly cocktail we plan to do some drunk dipping. Marisa’s fear of fish is considerably diminished when inebriated.
It’s cool enough now to turn off our clanking 80’s air conditioner that’s been buzzing all day. All I can hear is crickets and the ocean. The place where we’re staying is pretty much deserted, most now having left for home. The lights stay on like a ghost ship but I only see two other apartments with people inside. Across the green I can see a large fat man aggressively watching television while an american flag flaps around in the wind on his balcony. He must have brought it with him. I’m guessing it’s an action movie because the light reflecting off his pale exposed upper arms and face indicate gunfire and explosions. He’s not someone I ever want to have to tell a long story to.
It’s pitch dark now and strange lights drift far out at sea. Once brilliant, now pale as a day moon. I found a new beer today and it’s a discovery that will take me to sleep. I didn’t have a good one last night. Montauk Driftwood, tastes divine.
Due to some unexpected traffic, we eventualy arrived in Montauk an hour or so later than expected. I’m sitting here now on the same balcony we had two years ago, staring at the ocean slowly being engulfed by a large white fog. In between writing these sentences that is. I’ve already overheard the locals mention an incoming storm. I’ve really let the writing slip lately. Well, i’ve been working on the music so much that I forgot how relaxing it was to write these little blog posts. I started this blog with the sole purpose to pressure myself into writing. It worked, but for songwriting instead which is why my posts are happening less frequently. So, it is a victim of it’s own success? Not that I think many people read it anyway.
Marisa and I bought a car yesterday. We made an apointment, picked a type of car and a budget and nursing frightful hangovers from too much fun at The Sparrow Tavern the night before, made the purchase. A 2012 Toyota Carolla, Blood Red. I’m not crazy about the color but Marisa loved it and to be honest, it’s slowly growing on me. Cherry Garcia was born. Last night I sat in it for 20 minutes trying to figure out the radio/computer, general electronics and a host of other features that I never had on my old 1991 Jeep Wrangler. A tape cassette player and a box set of Edgar Allen Poe was what kept me entertained while stuck in traffic on the Long Island Expressway all those years ago. As soon as we signed the paperwork we were whisked outside for a photo beside the car, complete with a large ribbon on the hood. It was ridiculous and I loved every minute of it. My younger cynical self would have been appaled. But why not celebrate these small moments? I’ve had a painful summer because I fractured my hip, but there I am in the photo, beaming like an idiot.
Anyway, I wrote this post. Now it’s a trip to the store for food, beer and whatever else we think we might need in our doing nothing for the next week.