It started with a couple hours’ drive to a city I’d never been, with sleeping bags and three ripe peaches and an iPod playing its share of 53 Ryan Adams songs. It was a celebration of a work week ended. Camping next to the Atlantic Ocean got nixed, sadly, but it’ll happen on another adventure. Those 24 hours or so were pretty filled all the same. Things fell together pretty rapidly.
I saw those Sleigh Bells at long last and learned, in short order, why they are so loved and beloved. It has a bit to do with their catchy songs, sure, but the real treat is seeing them live. It’s necessary to understand them completely, even. Talk about your unleashed joy! I pretended I was younger than I am and rushed the stage and swayed and sang and sweat like I was trapped in a locked sauna. I reached out to Alexis when she fell forward to outstretched arms and smiled like a buffoon for the duration. $10 and a tank of gas for 40 minutes of passion might seem steep to some, but it wasn’t … this was concentrated goodness here. This was as crucial as it was worth it. Everyone seemed to agree on that, too.
And there was a last-minute booked hotel just a half-mile away. There were shared dinner nachos. There was a determination to wake up five hours later and drive 30 minutes to the beach, just in time to see a blood red sunrise. Waves and cool sand under my feet and reflecting and meditating and musing.
Pulled quote of the morning: “I think they just made a sand castle … of a boob.” Classy sorts, those early morning beachcombers. Classy with a capital K.
The way back was equally filled. Bought boiled peanuts from a roadside mullet for the first time ever (they so beat sunflower seeds). St. Augustine allowed us a good long look back into our nation’s history, wandering around a 300-year-old fort and even sipping from the Fountain of Youth (it tastes and smells of rotten eggs). There was even talk of Cassadaga, where supposed mediums all live together in an elevated state, and what it’ll be like to visit there one day. We even shared some secrets about ourselves, quite accidentally.
The Leu Gardens visit today and recently discovered wee breakfast café don’t much hold a candle to all that went on over the last couple of days, but know this: as long as weekends like this continue to take place, I will be one of those progressively happier sorts. I am getting my sea legs for Florida still, but a weekend like this one is evidence that things are coming along real nicely, thanks. There’s a world of comfort in that.
We’re talking deep sea fishing next weekend. These fingers are crossed. All of them.