As I live longer, years seem to go by faster and faster. Boom! Here comes 2024. We are almost a full quarter through the 21st Century. It was 25 years ago that we watched 1999 become 2000. At that time, I worked two short blocks from Times Square, and I remember watching them prepare the 2000 “Crystal Ball” way up high over the epicenter of New York. The coming of the year 2000 was a big deal. As a child, I watched “Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians” usher out the last moments of the old year and the first few of the new year with their iconic version of “Auld Lang Syne.” The Royal Canadians were billed as “the sweetest music this side of heaven.” Sadly, all the original members of that band now play on the other side of heaven.
As timeless as the Hamptons often seem, one can’t help but notice the changes that have occurred. My favorite recollection of 53 years was my first impression of the homes on majestic Meadow Lane on the Atlantic Ocean in Southampton Village. They were a touch big, specifically one Tudor home, but almost all the homes looked like large, weathered summer homes. Of course, now all rebuilt, they are the latest, greatest display-quality mega-mansions out of “Architecture Design,” but on steroids. Most of those homes were priced under $200,000.00 in the 1960s. Now, collectively, they are worth billions.
As my then weekend visit of twenty years ago turned into a never-going-back event, I witnessed the real estate boom of the early years of the 21st century. I had a well-read weekly column called “Estate of Mind” that chronicled that whole period, including its sudden end. It was during this boom era, I believe that most of the east-end homes became “gentrified.” New windows, new roofs and decks, big extensions, and detailed paint jobs were the order of the day. I watched the Hamptons become “Oz” and wrote about it weekly. When the recent COVID pandemic caused a new red-hot Hamptons real estate market, it seemed like Yogi Berra once said, “Déjà vu, all over again!”
Now, we sixty-something and beyond folks march into 2024 with our eyes wide open, often seeing what’s new and what’s old when we look out at every Hamptons landscape. The mantra of iconic east-end bank executive Kevin O’Connor uttered in 2009. He said to me for my Estate of Mind Column, “As long as that ocean is right there” (as he pointed towards the beach from his boardroom in Bridgehampton), “the real estate market will be all right.” Those who rode out those dark moments know how right Mr. O’Connor was and still is.
Looking forward to 2024, I must speak about the many young children of my east-end friends. The very friends I watched date, marry, and then have children. I now enjoy witnessing a new generation of young local east-end children. Watching their joy as they navigate the glory of single-digit age existence is priceless. Their bubble laughter and endless energy bring me a positive feeling for the future. Something about the process of watching children’s first steps, first words, and first freedoms to experience east-end beaches and parks is right up there with watching them have ice cream in the summer.
I have always enjoyed hearing the stories of my friends who grew up in the Hamptons. Their stories of surfing, being lifeguards, their school experiences, their first jobs, and some tales of bad storms, both in winter and summer. It’s a special club I will never be a member of since I am from elsewhere. Although I am a forever guest in their wonderful hometowns strung along the east end of Long Island like precious jewels, I do have something special to share. In Sag Harbor one full moon night, my Cindi chose me for her forever. We are an east-end love story, and that’s what I can share because who doesn’t love to hear a great love story? Happy New Year!
