05 September 2007

I Live my Life Like a John Hughes Movie

You know what really gets my goat (I'm bringin' it back): When Labor Day is called the unofficial end of the summer and treated as such. While there are at least two weeks left in the season, everyone starts shutting it down, shuttering their beach houses and lugging their plastic tubs of corduroy and wool down from the attic. We're equally as guilty: Jay Jay's Pool Guys were here closing up the pool as a voice on the radio forecasted 90 degree temperatures for later this week. September is the best month of the year. No doubt. It's still summer like and by the end of the month it'll be cool enough for Vito to make it all the way through a walk without conking out on the sidewalk. For the record, Snackplate Sundays will still be going down every weekend -- except when not -- well after Sept. 21.

Another goat getter: Most of the summer, these beautiful waterfront homes at the beach sat completely vacant. Labor Day weekend was no exception. At one house in particular -- my favorite on the strip -- I didn't see a single soul -- not one -- the entire season -- and we were at the beach a lot this year. The house was completely locked down, its front porch deserted, its Adirondack chairs bumless, its blue hydrangeas perfect.


(View from an empty Adirondack chair)

The house is probably one of the owners' many vacation homes so seaside luxury is likely no biggie to them. Still, the smaller cottages at the end of the road were packed every weekend. You could barely find a beach chair or porch rocker and there was always a line for the outdoor shower. Every time I'd walk by this beautiful empty home, I had an urge to bust open the french doors and start inviting strangers in off the street. At least rent it out so someone could enjoy it! There were plenty of caretakers, landscapers and gardeners tending to the place but it still looked neglected somehow. As I stood there taking digital photos of the place, I suddenly realized I was Molly Ringwald gawking at James Spader's house in "Pretty in Pink" musing, "I bet the people who live there don't think it's half as pretty as I do." I shuffled into a slow jog back down the street, feeling like a gigantic idiot. My life, once again, imitating a John Hughes' movie.

The good news is the annual Labor Day extravanza -- including a costume parade, running races and street dancing -- was a well-populated, joyous tribute to the "unofficial end" and I have a crappy LRSS to prove it. I will post it shortly.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Was Duckie with you? My favorite movie!
I had a house in Newport many many yrs ago and used to see the same thing. Empty summer homes, a crying shame.

Anonymous said...

"I live my life like a French movie, Steve..." [Singles]

A beach home is a terrible thing to waste. Shame, shame, shame on those people. We should bust in there and become squatters.

Our Labor Day Finale included a Worcester Italian Cookout, replete with bocce, meatballs, macaroni and gravy...all enjoyed alfresco.

Anonymous said...

Wrong movie, I know- but let's imagine "Jake Ryan" sitting in one of those chairs,...yum!

That house is my fave on the strip too, and they have an equally vacant in-law apt in the back. I think my whole condo could fit inside it.

I know, let's all dress up like Gatsby's party guests, have our own party there, and see if anyone notices!

Champagne Dahhling?

Anonymous said...

I want to run through their yard naked.

KJ said...

I say we do all of it -- Gatsby, nudity, and bocce.

SB, do you still have that mask you streaked in during "cup time" on the courtyard?

KJ said...

LPD-20 numbers!

Anonymous said...

No, I don't. I gave that mask back to Jim Wiley. Someone owned it in their apartment (weird in it's own right). As soon as I saw it, I knew what I had to do.

Bean Down Under said...

Kj - I have always wondered the same thing about those houses down from the Jackson abode. To quote a songwriter you may know.... Bono... 'A house doesn't make a home'... those places are houses. Your place is truly a Summer Home. Happy post Labor Day everyone!

schroeder said...

Kate:
I've seen that movie 30 times. How do you know that's Steff's house?

I often channel Duckie when I'm searching for a song to listen to on the car radio. "Why can't I find a decent song"?

Bob

KJ said...

Bob, First of all, I'm glad I'm not the only idiot who channels Duckie in response to the total shit on the radio. Second, when you watch the movie for the 31st time, note the long shot on the house before Andy and Blane arrive at Steff's party -- it's the same house. Who knew John Hughes was such a master of the foreshadow!?