Thursday, November 14, 2013

Home At The Shore

I grew old in many different places, but I came of age DTS, Down the Shore in New Jersey. I fell across this yesterday afternoon and have watched reached it repeatedly, some might suggest incessantly and they would be right but so what? since then. Mesmerizing almost describes it, as does magical.  

It is a remarkable piece of work (and that may be the understatement of the decade, so far), a short film that must be viewed, in all likelihood, on the biggest screen possible and far more often than once to be fully appreciated. 

Forget the MTV Jersey Shore morons, the Guidos and Guidettes, and the struggles to survive for families and businesses in a post-Sandy economy, The former is ephemeral and the latter may prove to be closer to eternal but this is different-a shared memory that is somehow unique for each one who has experienced it. Together and yet alone, at the same moment. 

Can you feel the sting of the salt from the ocean on your lips and tongue and sense more than see it on your eyelashes? The slightly soggy but still satisfyingly solid crunch of the damp sand where the waves have retreated from the shore under your bare feet as you troll the shoreline scouting for washed-up starfish and over-turned horseshoe crabs? Do those damn seagulls ever stop yammering, even through the headphones and ear buds at max vol?  

I've grown old in a dozen different places across multiple continents, but I came of age in only one and now I'm there again. Home, At The Shore
-bill kenny

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