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Monday, November 28, 2011

Shakky Chic

We stayed here when we were kids.

the same staircase that bore the weight of countless children's feet is still there - daring the most courageous of beach goers to scale the worn wooden planks without flipflops. The steps sagged even then; full of splintery splinters, they were a gauntlet of sorts even when we first stayed at the cottages, in the summer of 1960.,
At the beach, rules were simple; we could go wherever, do whatever, as long as we could walk to it on the beach.
In 1960, my grandmother liked Kennedy becaue he was a good Catholic boy. (Wow! Did the campaign machine even work then!) My uncles hated him - loathed him - because of civil rights. Aside from those two memorable points, from my six year old perspective, the summer of 1960 was constant play, endless swims, a freckled nose that was coated with layers of zinc oxide, playing endless games of mermaid in the surf with my sister, and walking and walking and walking.

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