Fire Island 2005, Episode VII - The Summer Wanes

It's been a week since I was in the Pines, but last week was a tough week to find time to write about it. So, here goes.

After the opening pitch of the Phillies game, I headed out from Philly early Friday morning and got to our house around noon. On the boat was Dan from The Real World. Sat next to him. Or, rather, across the aisle from him. That's the extent of my celeb sitings this weekend.

Dan and I got to enjoy a few hours in the house with my friend Matt who had been in from LA for a couple weeks. He and Dan had gone out to the house Thursday night, suffering through Robin Byrd's bulge party. When Matt left that afternoon, we were left with a couple hours in the house to ourselves.

It made me long for a place to ourselves out there. One of the things that bugs me about Fire Island is the 20-something mentality of these 30-, 40-, 50- and 60-year-olds; i.e., sharing a house with eight other people every weekend. Most adults just get a place for themselves and their family, or maybe one other family. Not the gays; they stick to their 20s and rent en masse. It's nice for a weekend. Maybe two. But half the summer? I've tired of it a bit.

Still, the weekend was a nice one. I played lots of Frisbee on the beach with Steve, one of the guys from my football league. Another guy, Kevin, joined us for some disc on Saturday before retiring to his blanket for a six-pack.

Saturday evening was spent with the guys across the walk from us. I've known Drew and Alan since I moved to New York (Dan's known them for a lot longer) and I really like hanging out with them. Plus, their house is cool: relaxed, fun, right on the beach, and everyone has a good attitude. It's the kind of house that, if I ever do this again, I'd want to be a part of. We just hung out, shot the shit, had a drink, and sent them on their merry way to the Pavilion around 12:30.

One of the guys has an Italian Greyhound, which Dan and I have started to obsess about. They are the cutest dogs; but, neither of us thinks it's good to keep a dog in a 640-square-foot space. So, we'll probably wait until L.A.

I fished Friday evening. Tough going of it. The surf was SO strong this weekend, the bait kept finding it's way to shore in just a few minutes. When a added another weight to keep the bait on the bottom, it became too hard to cast. Oh well - there's always Labor Day . . . .

Overall, a very good weekend: some friends, some sports, some drink. I dug it.