Sixty-Something: The Growing Drumbeat of the Coming Summer

I love summertime. The warmest weather of the year soothes my old bones, as does swims in the ocean and the east end bays. Sitting at a beach in a beach chair on a relaxing summer’s day with a pleasant ocean breeze is exhilarating. Wearing shorts, tee shirts, and Teva sandals is my way of life. Yes, I love the summertime. 

Over the years, the summer weather has sometimes arrived before the summer. So far, not this year. However, it will come, and who knows, I may be singing the praises of air conditioning by August. In my first years out here, I had a white VW convertible that felt like a small Jeep. That car would bring me everywhere. With my beagle in the backseat, we enjoyed all the summer weather had to give us. That included sunny sailing days and star-filled full moon nights. Even walking and driving through summer rain can be fun. On Wednesday nights, the beagle would sit next to me on the Stephen Talkhouse stage while I sang karaoke, not so much on the busy summer nights.

I had left my suits in New York City and came out east to forget about 9-11, my failed family business, my divorce, and my career at Northwestern Mutual. After being a substitute teacher for a year, I decided I wanted to get back to journalism. The way in was through a delivery job. I remember being the only vehicle on the Shelter Island South Ferry in a snow storm! I also remember the sweat from 90-plus-degree mornings with no breeze and work to be done. Part of delivering those papers was collecting the old ones. The uncovered ones would get wet and expand in size to look and feel like prehistoric living creatures. 

The other side of that laborious job was the delivery routes that covered most of the Hamptons all summer! Folks knew me from the motel near the then Southampton College to the front desk at the Rams Head Inn on Shelter Island. I knew all the ferry guys and they knew me and the delivery van. They come over and grab a paper. They read my articles! Walking down Jobs Lane in Southampton Village, I heard folks yell out my name and “good morning!” Same thing in Sag Harbor. At that time, I first lived year-round in the heart of East Hampton Village so I had a pretty good pulse of all things south shore, east end. Eventually, I lived in Montauk too.

Living in Montauk all year round was a blast, but summering there was different then than it is now. It was lower-key and more blue-collar, family-like. The Surf Lodge changed the whole Montauk culture in 2018 in just one season. Now it’s the new normal in Montauk, once the un-Hampton but now the ultimate Hampton.

Those three years delivering papers have been the backbone of my 20 years of East End writing. Pre-internet news websites, there were weeks when I had the most printed stories running on the east end. My editor wrote in a cartoon article that I was all over as if I “was running around like a chicken with my head cut off pursuing stories.” Back then, I didn’t do phone interviews, I sat in homes, offices, farm fields and wineries. I loved it. It was never work until it came time to check the spelling for all the names and places in the articles.

Of all the summers, including the crazy pandemic summer when so many folks rented and bought homes in the Hamptons for safety, I thought the busiest summer was 2005. It became too crowded and was tough to get a reservation to eat anywhere. Parking lots were full with cars driving around looking for spots. Beach lots were filled early, even on weekdays. Talkhouse weekend lines to get in were up the block long. The occupancy laws were not strictly enforced that summer anywhere, I just remember being crushed at all nightclub venues until 2 am! Being out was how I found stories to write about.

Now we have Google, websites and dazzling press releases. We also still have  “great east end, south shore summers!” The drumbeat is starting for the arrival of the multitudes of the 2023  summer folks. Second, homeowners, renters, day trippers, boat owners, and folks who just love the feel of sandy, fertile soil will arrive via just a few roads. Lines will form everywhere. Everyone will endure it to get a supreme taste of summertime in the Hamptons.