The Loneliness of the Crowd

Bermuda, where?

After dong my stint for Uncle Sam, I return home to Mom and Brooklyn. I am welcomoed with open arms and Mom’s meatloaf (with hard boiled eggs in it) and the guys (sounds silly, “THE GUYS”) I may just be sensing a mental thing but I feel out of place living at home with Mom. I can read beneath the “Welcome Home Son”, it really say’s, “I LOVE YOU. Can I help you pack?” In the sixties we grew up faster, expectations weren’t all that much. Yes, Some would venture off to college and beyond, while others would find occupations to their liking not far fromhome while others climb the corporate ladder through life. For me I see my life like a 1000 piece puzzle, and just as soon as the image becomes clear, you realize the dog ate the last piece, the end is never to be seen ahead of when it is THE END…

Enter one of two great friendships in my life. No names, they knows who they are. As different as our goals may have been, one thing for sure, we three were as ONE, our story’s are the same. I started out in Brownsville, Brooklyn and remained in BROOKLYN (off and on) for the most part. One of them packed his bag, gave me his apartment and dog boarded Trailways west. He arrived in Los Angeles, CA and is still there. And the last stayed in Brooklyn until a Job offer took him to L.A. wherre he lived out his life. The constant between us is the the bond of this friendship will stand up againsts time, distance and life outside our sphere.

A memory. I recall a holiday weekend and us three plus 1 just took in a matinee and the Lowes (on Flatbush Avenue). As we leave the we’re greeted with a residue of snow. It doesn’t take along until I am the one that get doused with it, to which I exclaim; “So what are going to do now, it’s early? The response is clear, two bank faces are clueless and one smiling, “how about we go to Bermuda?” I don’t even know where that is, but I want to go, “Yeah, we do need to get the car?” He laughs and then I am saved by him saying, BOAC is only $75.00 round trip. So Where is it? El stupido ask, and politely saving me, again, he say’s 600 miles or so off shore, just about in line with North Carolina. Me, Sounds perfect! The one in the know enters into the phone booth (not an app) and reserves 4 seats leaving at 7:00 PM. I drop each off to pack a bag and then get my Mom to take us to Idewild (JFK) Airport. Side note, the importance of knowing what to pack describes just how nieve I am, a bathing suit, couple of polo shirts (not the brand but the type) another pair of shorts toothbrush, 105 mm lens, 50 mm lens and NIKON. Mom, looks over and witha small grin, what, no birth certific, no money? Always and in all ways a MOM. Either in yur face about something or surreptitiously there to cover your A** when you over step your place. for me, she was always there.

6.45 PM at BOAC ticket counter, He says, your holding four seats for…