6 posts tagged “boston may 07”

Red Hook/Tivoli/Barrytown was a long stop on the way from E.'s to Warwick NY, where I was headed to see some folks I haven't seen in way too long a time.

Michael is my best friend from college, when you make friends in a way you never really make at any point afterwards in life.  He married Suzanne, who was in the class ahead of us; she was a friend of mine too, long before she and Michael hooked up.  I was best man at their wedding.  I almost said no because I was sure their marriage wasn't going to last. 

But they're celebrating their 20th anniversary this Labor Day.  Sometimes I feel I don't know shit about the human heart and never will.

They moved to Manhattan after graduation, living first in Hell's Kitchen and later uptown, and then out to Warwick in 1994.  Their first child was born a few months later and their second came along in 1999.  I wouldn't have figured them for family types when I knew them in college either, but see what I said above about the human heart.

Because Michael was the center of my social world at Bard - as well as the mainstay of both bands we formed together, the only person I would have considered forming a band with - and for the years afterwards before I moved to CA too, I sometimes forget that Suzanne and I have as strong a relationship as we do.  But I remember as soon as I see her again.  Old friends remind you of so much you've forgotten just by walking in the room.  That is, I guess, one of the geniuses of long-term friendships.

Michael and Suzanne's in Warwick

This is a fairy-tale place, in a way that none of us ever could have expected when they were living on W. 49th St.

Back yard

Like I said.

Michael on his hog

Michael's gotten kinda deeply into the motorcycle thing, a 1200 Harley and full half-sleeve tattoos on both arms included.   But every boy's gotta have an escape hatch, I guess.

Suzanne and Darla

Suzanne's picked up a few tats along the way too.  I think hers are prettier, but I'm not telling Michael that.  Darla, their 8-year-old, meanwhile is celebrating the acquisition of her first cell phone.  She talks a lot, which is not too surprising considering both of her parents do too.

On the porch

Michael's parents were in visiting from San Diego while I was there.  It was kind of chaotic with everyone in the house but we managed and in fact I was glad they were there; it helped put things in context to be part of someone else's family for a few days.  Some of the best times I had were sitting out here with M. and his dad while the women were inside clustered around American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance on the tube.  When they'd all gone to bed I persuaded Michael to watch the Six Feet Under disc I'd brought along.  We weren't fancy and didn't need to be, which is another of the geniuses of long-term friendship.

Much as I love my family and friends, for me the heart of the trip was during the hours I spent poking around in the Red Hook/Tivoli/Barrytown area in upstate New York, my old college stomping grounds.  There's something magic about this part of the Hudson Valley, or for that matter the whole Hudson Valley.  I'm constantly scheming of ways I can find to go back there to live one day.

Ironically, I didn't do any poking around on the Bard campus.  A quick drive-through sufficed to show the place has changed so much I can barely recognize it any longer; too many new buildings put up on patches of land that I once loved for their solitude and sparseness.  Plus I had no plans to attend my upcoming 25th reunion and didn't want to have to explain that to anyone on campus who might still recognize me.  I much preferred to be out getting mud on my boots somewhere down on the riverbank.

Roeliff Jansen Kill I

One of my favorite spots in the area, just outside the hamlet of Jacksons Corners.

Roeliff Jansen Kill 2

I pirate-camped here on a trip 12 years ago and woke up with a swim in the creek.  From the looks of the nearby woods a lot of people still do just that.

Catskills

View from a field outside Red Hook.

Tivoli Bay, north

The Tivoli Bay flats when the tide is out.  The line of trees mid-way out is the bank of the railroad tracks, the Amtrak line between New York and Albany.

Railway at Cruger Island crossing

Facing Albany.  A sign on the other side of the tracks declares Cruger Island closed for most of the year for wildlife preservation, a real disappointment as I wanted to go swimming off the north end like the old days.

Cruger Island north tip

That flat rock at the tip is where we used to go swimming.  We didn't care much for hazards like Hudson River water contamination in those days.

Tide flowing into Tivoli Bay

Taken from the railway line just north of the Cruger Island crossing.

Hudson River w/ Cruger Island (left) and Rhinecliff bridge

View from Tivoli landing.

Long-deserted barn near Tivoli

The state has since taken over the whole area between Kidd Lane and the Bard campus where this barn sits, but when I was a student this was the centerpiece of several crumbling buildings known as The Deserted Village.  One December night senior year I went for a walk in the snow with a very pretty freshman girl named Anastasia and we ended up here, tripping our brains out on LSD.  It was spooky and still unspeakably romantic and we got into a pretty heavy makeout session under this roof.  For purely selfish reasons I hope the barn never gets torn down.

Former Morey Hotel, Tivoli

Tivoli is now home to some major frou-frou - now has its own tattoo parlor, too - but when I went to Bard it was a fairly scary place to be.  Locals didn't like students, didn't like outsiders much period.  This current day chevre-and-walnut-salad emporium used to be the Hotel Morey, a real Irish bar - a dark, cave-like place where people would go to do some serious drinking and not be interrupted.  A trip up to the Morey always felt like a real adventure back then.

Corner of 199 & 9G, Red Hook

There are less artists in Red Hook than Tivoli but over the years the town has still been frou-froued to an alarming degree.  The Halfway Diner (now called the Historic Village Diner, but always referred to by those in the know as the Halfway to Hell) is still open, at least, and Village Pizza makes some of the best slices you're going to find outside The City.

Barrytown and the Hudson

At the end of Station Road.  It's still a tiny out-of-the-way place, and still just as peaceful as it ever was.  Outside of the towns, there's not much has changed around here in 25 years.

The Oaks

From Boston I went to visit my brother E. near Keene.  E. lives with his wife S. on 7 1/2 hillside acres, in a house they built themselves over the years (the first five without running water).  They keep over a dozen sheep and I arrived just in time to see a bunch of them get sheared.

E.'s back "yard"

There's really not a level foot on the entire property as far as I could tell.  (This was only my second time there; the first was in the winter many years ago and I didn't get out and do much tramping around.)  But you don't need the ground to be absolutely level to plant a large garden, or keep blueberry bushes.  E. & S. have a deliberately low-impact lifestyle and grow as much of their own food as they can.  Raise it, too; it was jarring the first few times I heard E. refer to a sheep by name and then say, "He's downstairs in the freezer now."

E.'s house from the back

It looks a lot bigger from the outside.

E.'s house, interior

The hardwood floors went in two years ago.  They're really made this place quite habitable, and lovely in the process.

Before the clippers

"All I want to know is.. what the hell is next?"

E. supervising the clipping process

They hired a professional shearer, a gentleman from New Zealand.  When you need someone to deal with your sheep, who better than a New Zealander right?

After the clippers

Naked little lambs.

Loose in the pen

"No ifs, ands or butts about it, mister.  Well, maybe a butt or two."

Crabapple trees in bloom

More flora on the property.

Laddie and the front step

Front of the house, with their dog who is a perfect pet apart from having the world's worst dog-breath.  I'm not kidding.  He always smells like he's just been eating something three days rotting.

Orchard and mountains

Partial view of the orchard in Putney VT where E. works during the cold months.

Small New England village

The crossroads nearest E. & S.'s house, with the obligatory high-steepled church.

Sitting at the counter of Trident on Newbury St., sipping on a cup or two of nice strong oolong while taking a rest from the frenzy biking in Boston.  I need a rest.  It's been a busy day already, as befits the first sunny day since I got here (flights into Logan Friday were backed up because of continuing bad weather and mine was two hours late in; Saturday and most of yesterday weren't much better).

The river and the sun

Yesterday I got a rental bike and so far today have toured a ways down the river, doubled back into Allston and had lunch at my favorite grungy Greek place on Harvard Ave. that apart from moving the lunch counter hasn't changed one freaking little bit in twenty-four years, and finally dodged Massachusetts drivers all the way down Comm Ave.  There's no mirror handy at the Trident counter but when I get up to pee I'm also going to count all the new gray hairs.

All this after a mid-morning run to Logan to get the rental car: a Dodge Caliber that's clearly larger than I ordered but since it has a built-in iPod jack I can live with the extra $3/day.  Tomorrow I'm off to E.'s and he says if it's dry enough on Wednesday I can help with the sheep-shearing.  I guess when you've got a brother who keeps livestock this is a suitable bonding activity.

Best rice pudding in Allston

Over the last three days I've walked by every house I ever lived in here except for the Mass Ave. apartment building on the Roxbury border.  Amazingly, each of those places is still exactly the same too except one is now dull silver instead of dull red.  I love this town.