I loved my grandparents' life so much that, at the age of 9, I eagerly awaited my own retirement. I am the former champion of that tournament - I still have the blue ribbon to prove it, and my name is etched on a shuffleboard plaque that's packed away somewhere in my parent's basement. Therefore, I grew up in a family of very competitive shufflers, who for decades staged an annual Fourth of July tournament. My grandparents loved shuffleboard so much that they built a court at their summer home up north in New Jersey. But after the game, there would always be poolside martinis and laughter. "Shuffleboard will break your heart," my grandmother used to say. For an hour, the sunny mood around the Shalimar turned tense as action on the court heated up. The biggest event of their days happened in the late afternoon, when my grandparents convened near the swimming pool with the other snowbirds for a cutthroat game of shuffleboard. Or they'd play bridge.īut their true sport and pastime was shuffleboard. On overcast days, they might take the grandkids to a citrus grove to pick grapefruit. My grandparents had the type of deep, natural tan people used to achieve in the pre-SPF days. In the heat of the afternoon, my grandmother crafted intricate lamps and mirrors out of these shells, while my grandfather smoked a pipe. Their screened-in porch at the Shalimar was full of seashells that they had collected on early morning walks - shells with wonderful, exotic names such as lion's paws, nutmegs, fighting conchs, apple murexes, junonias, coquinas. Though my grandfather was a wealthy man, he did not own a boat. My grandparents did not play golf or tennis, and they rarely fished. Across the street was a murky pond with two alligators, who Sonny called Marshall and Jake - until one winter when Marshall ate Jake. The Shalimar was managed by a man named Sonny, who drove around in a beat-up golf cart and liked to play tricks on the kids, such as removing his false teeth. Across the street was a murky pond with two alligators, whom Sonny called Marshall and Jake - until the winter when Marshall ate tto bug, and you had to be careful of fire ants in the yard. It was common to share a night's sleep with a flitting palmetto bug, and you had to be careful of fire ants in the yard. The cottage, one of a dozen that surrounded a swimming pool, had no air conditioning, paper-thin wood-paneled walls and only the suggestion of a kitchen. Essential.My grandparents spent every winter on an island in Florida, in a small rented cottage 100 yards from the Gulf of Mexico at a place called the Shalimar. “New York City Serenade” is a beast, starting with David Sancious’ elegant piano intro and working its way to a dramatic conclusion. “Rosalita (Come out Tonight)” is archetypal Springsteen, complete with Clarence Clemons chasing the Boss with his ebullient sax while the lyrics tell of Bruce’s dreams of rock stardom. “Incident on 57th Street” is pure cinemascope, an elaborate tale that sweats like a classic early-‘70s film. “The E Street Shuffle” and “Kitty’s Back” are among the funkiest songs he’s recorded, while “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” and “Wild Billy’s Circus Story” are the warmest and most heartbreaking on the album. This is where Springsteen becomes an electric performer, with songs that invent new structures and court deep narratives. His second album, The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle, added his stellar E Street Band. His first album, the excellent Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J., presented a singer/songwriter with sharp lyrical skills and an emotional spectrum that could bring tears to the eyes of attentive listeners.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |