Waiting, Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

have no idea what goes on farther down Lakeshore Boulevard at the official Durand-Eastman beach. We never make it that far. I trust they still have lifeguards, the ropes that keep you from swimming out too far, and the Port-o-Johns. I’ve always liked this “no rules,” wilder end. I mean, there is a “No Swimming” sign in this photo, but no one pays any attention to it.

The sun is out now, but we just had a half inch of rain and the lake is about a foot and a half above its long-term average for August. Because the lake gets deep so gradually, there is very little sandy beach above water. Right along this strip is where the old Durand Beach House stood, with its dramatic, tunnel-like entrance to the beach, right through the long brick building.

My mother would bring us down to the lake on hot summer days, alternating between here and Charlotte. Both places had somewhere you could buy suckers. On our way back today we tried our best to recall Steve Hoy’s lyrics to MX-80’s “Summer 77.”

You know, this has been a really very bitter cold for many of us.
And recently a friend of mine put down the words
the way some of us may feel about these approaching summer months.
I’d like to sing.
“I’ve seen all you girls in your heavy coats
walking in the snow with you hats and gloves and scarves
and your hearts all covered with scars
All winter you stayed inside
read books, watched TV, looked at magazines
But underneath your hearts were all waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting
for Summer 77″

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