"Maine takes up a lot of my mental space, probably because I don’t go there. People in Maine have undiscovered hamlets where everyone has been coming for ages and they barbecue amiably with authentic locals at night. Others belong to Old Families with a private island off the coast tucked into the family tree, a place where only family have been allowed to go for hundreds of years. On this island they have sailboats and clambakes and croquet and break out periodically into song. These kinds of summers are plainly out of reach. The 1 percent of the 1 percent don’t need to plan summer because they have it built in. They have a place on the Vineyard or in the Hamptons. They belong to a club where everyone speaks golf and there’s a long waiting list even for those who can afford it. Summer is when the maw of income inequality gapes wide open and only people who summer are allowed in.... I marvel at people with second homes when I can barely stay on top of my one, and summer traffic stresses me out. And what did I miss, really?..."
Writes Pamela Paul, in "It’s Too Late for Summer Now" (NYT).
57 comments:
I find New England architecture to be very unpleasant so stay away. All the dirt has rocks in it too.
Such a typical NYT fluff piece. It is not enough to choose not to partake in a particular activity. Rather, you must attack attack that activity, and denigrate anyone who dares to enjoy it.
A language note: when I read the headline up to "a strong dislike of summer activity dating" my mind stopped the intake and started pondering what is 'activity dating'? Like miniature golf? Going to a movie? At which time, despite misfocused attention my eyes and brain caught up with the rest of the headline. Oh, she means 'since' but wants to use filler words.
Strunk & White would say, "Don't use "dating back to" when you can use "since." [oops first time missed the colon]
Perhaps her problem is she is a completely miserable human being
She’s too far removed to mention the patriarchs taking the Pilatus from Bedford to the Island at the end of the week or the gangster style shoeboxes of cash to settle the wagers in the member guest or having the son pick up his friends on the mainland in the picnic boat…
One of my fav Nantucket stories- the TV guy is installing the AV system late August, sunburned as hell and prolly hungover. The fabulous designer guy is giving him shit for being late and/or a slacker and making him look bad. Sunburned AV guy rears back in a sigh and begins a sentence with ‘So I was chatting with Meg Ryan at Chappy last week…’ which stops fabu designer in his rant and leads to a very buzzy sidebar…yeesh…
I actually enjoyed this column and realized there used to be more columns about everyday life that elicited smiles from me. I rarely run into them these days.
I was always a workaholic in my day, but I do believe I had the same feeling toward summer as she describes. When I was a kid, we played outdoors all summer- baseball, biking, more baseball- all day into the night. When I got to working age, that's all I did. And when summer would come and I would get a once-in-a-while day off, I was unprepared for it. I realized people were out at lakeside barbecues, or downtown at the Grand Prix, or up north at 'The Cottage'. And I really hadn't planned for anything. So, yeah, I get exactly where she's coming from. I hated summer then, and looked forward to fall, and particularly winter- when everyone had to be inside and I knew I was not missing anything.
And it is true. No one is allowed in Maine in the summer unless you're family has long roots and the papers to show it.
Southerners know that summer is a state of mind, not weather or location.
As a newly minted Florida Man, I'm learning this Mikee.
I have recently become a fan of gardening, thanks to my wife, a master gardener. I have told her if we ever come in to some money, I want to buy some land/2nd home a couple of hours a way and do full tilt gardening like Monty Don. She just smiles at me and says "ok".
i just want to remind people, that;
THERE IS NO NEED, TO EVER VACATION IN IOWA
in the summer; it's 80 degrees, with 80 percent humidity.. In the winter, it's A MILLION BELOW
And, most import.. The trout fishing here is Just Terrible..
There is NO NEED, for anyone to EVER even THINK of trying it
NO FISH HERE
In the southern lowcountry if you want a rock you have to buy it then pay for shipping…
Thought the same thing, Mike.
Nice post, Gilbar. I enjoyed my work time in Iowa, but froze my ass off several times.
There’s the entire strata of wealth what goes to Maine in the summer. The modest lake camps away from the ocean, standing in line at a good lobster shack…This NYT hack chooses to whine about what she covets but doesn’t have…
The SO hates the ocean- too many big fish and sand where you don’t want it. I’m good with the lake, so…
Ha! My wife and I are visiting Des Moines next month to see family. I'll leave the trout for you.
Nice post, Gilbar. Visited Iowa many times for work. Seemed to be a friendly state. Froze my ass off several times.
The people who summer in Maine are all in on the CAGW scam. Rich libs.
Stuff white people like.
This person needs therapy to rid her mind of the "others" who seem to control her. Or live rent-free in her head, as they say. Sad.
From Google: Fran Lebowitz Quote (sic): “Generally speaking, the poorer person summers where he winters.
We were a summer in Maine family. (Since my in-laws have passed, we no longer gather.) Our property had been handed down through two generations. That writer only sees one slice of Maine. We were the people who repaired the rich visitors' toys, but we were still authentic Mainers enjoying a beautiful summer, cooking lobster by the lake.
Why does society reward such narrow, miserable little shits with the opportunity to write bitter screeds in publications with large readerships?
I’ll pass.
- Rafe
The writer is an (upper?)-middle class NYC striver writing for other (upper?)-middle class strivers who can't even afford a group house-share in the prenumbra of the Hamptons...who resent the hell of of the people with whom they work whose families have summered in Maine...or Newport...or Nantucket (Martha's Vineyard has been declasse since WWII)...or deep in the Adirondacks ...for many generations...and these poor sods have only found out they're not invited after the fact as they're worked to the bone at their law firms or investment banks...as they slowly figure out they're only passing through while the guys and gals whose families summer will get the partnerships because they can make rain....
The working rich’s envy of the idle rich
Nice. That's the kind of wit TCrosse usually brings but he seems off his game today.
The botanical center downtown is nice. Living History Farms is good (if you're into that sort of thing).. But Northeast Iowa? Nothing to see up here; just move along!
Gulf Coast, Gulf Coast, Hot Springs, Muscle Shoals, Daytona Beach, Germany-Austria-Italy (with Oma and Aunt Louise, for family and business)--all the summer vacations I recall from my childhood when my father was alive, and a couple of years after he died (1953-1964).
The widow lady hadn't the time, money, or energy for much in the way of summer trips after that.
In 1969 my little brothers and I went with our mother to visit her older sister near DC. I ended up staying the summer and working at the CHSTI. Some vacation that was. My friends were all in Memphis hanging out and goofing off.
My wife and I are not vacationers. Most years we don't even talk about it.
Due to my hardworking maternal Grandfather who had the foresight to buy a half-built cottage on Cape Cod back in the 50's, and then spend several summers finishing the construction with his sons, I have a "summer place". It's truly tiny, about 850 sq. ft, but it's my favorite place on earth. Just got back from a 12-day stay there with my wife. My whole family of 5 used to take vacations there, now my single mother lives there full-time and the guest room (think sun-porch with a futon) is in constant use. Takes 90 seconds to walk to the beach barefoot, so not exactly "on the water", but very close.
Will I see you in September?
Or lose you to clambakin’ Maineiacs?
This Southron knows only that summer is hot as hell down here. Humid too, most of the time.
God bless Willis Carrier.
Neither are we. My idea of a vacation is reading a great book on my back patio. When we used to vacation, we would always go in mid September to early October when tourist season was over, and the weather was cooler. LESS crowds of people. Now I have my 87 year old Mother living with us, and no family to stay with her if we go, but no desire to go either. When you live in a tourist area, the last thing you want to do is something touristy.
There are some places in the Adirondacks that are like... wow.
This lady wouldn't belong to any club that would have her as a member.
Rehajm, in one of McPhee's geology books, a Wyoming geologist remarks that the USGS equivalent of "The Army sent me to a depot in Alaska" was to be sent to the southern reaches of the Mississippi river. The thousand feet of silt. No rocks.
Years ago I traveled around India. In Benares I stopped at a chai shop, close to the Burning Ghats on the Ganges shore. An Indian guy in his 30's, looking "ordinary"and dressed in a dhoti very much as Ghandi did, sat down next to me and asked the usual questions, including "Where are you from?"
I told him, "Portsmouth, New Hampshire". He expressed surprise, replying in excellent English, "I know that town!. My parents used to drive through it on our way up to Maine."
Skeptical, I pressed him for more details. He said his father had worked in India's New York consulate office, and as a result they "summered" in Maine. When I asked where he replied, "Androscoggin", which is located near Lewiston and is indeed a very popular place for summer visitors who like living in the woods, fishing, kayaking and canoeing.
But it's not where I imagined an Indian family would would choose for a summer vacation back in the 60's.
Our 2nd “home” is a cottage not very far north in Wisconsin (think middle of the state). But wow is it a getaway. Can get there on a Friday night after work and still have time on the lake. During Covid lockdowns we called it our “Covid haven”. We still went out to dinner! Had a drink at the bar. It was especially great for my husband who works at a hospital. We are very fortunate to have it but sacrificed a lot to make it happen.
We are blessed.
I am retired and live in my vacation home on a lake in the north woods of Wisconsin year round. And, yes, winter has become my favorite season but summer isn’t so bad itself. I enjoy the schadenfreude of Manhattan liberals like the writer of this piece. I hope the NY subway is as hot, humid, and as stinky as I remember it.
Oh I am sad at that. Discover state parks! Free! The best place to go in Wisconsin the summer.
No trout in Iowa. Got it.
"The Weber grill is covered in dead leaves and there’s a wasp nest back there that I’ve been meaning to call someone (who?) to remove. "
Clearly not her husband or boyfriend. Perhaps that's why she's so miserable.
Too many humans
Does my deer stand qualify as a summer home? I've fallen asleep there many times.
My view is that spending a couple weeks here and there in an old small family cabin in Maine, etc, is status signaling among the more elite in the NE. Yes, there are the rocky beaches and ocean sailing, but what else?
I like what we have - a beautiful modern decent sized house nestled among endless tall evergreens, in NW MT (plus my fairly new 2k sq ft 2nd garage). Wildlife wandering by. Bears late at night. Better hunting (TR hunted here more than a century ago), fresh water fishing, and snow skiing. Surrounded by National Forests for unlimited hiking, horseback riding, Jeeping, etc. no mosquitoes this summer, or other odious insects. Just got back from a walk, where the dog repeatedly tried (she’s on a leash for obvious reasons) to take off after some pre-venisons. Most summers we are in the 90s this month, but today was 76°, with blue skies and minimal wildfire smoke. And liberals are laughed at, instead of being the norm. Guns are in most every home, so most everyone is polite and friendly. For us, it’s idyllic.
I would prefer living here year round, but my desert rat partner has enough metal in her back that winters are hard on her. So, off to Phoenix for the winters. Works out well - we head south mid October, just missing the first snow, and back up in mid April, just missing the last snow in MT and 100° in AZ, most years. This year we got a really late move north due to Doctors’ appointments for her, just to find that the guy who had replaced the carpet in the master bedroom, to match the hardwood in the rest of the downstairs (which was also refinished) left a mess. He hadn’t put drop cloths over everything, and left the heat on all winter, leaving sawdust everywhere, even upstairs that had been closed off. So, another month, living in motels (and visiting our first granddaughter in CO), as we had it professionally cleaned. Finally back in. The floors, downstairs are gorgeous, and the weather is cooperating. Plus very little fire danger, for once. Very wet year (her ex got a 3rd cutting of hay). But that just means short rain showers every couple days. As I said, idyllic.
In my salad days summers in Madison were like a three-masted schooner becalmed in the doldrums. Nobody I knew had any money, but we managed to have fun anyway. Later in life I developed a taste for the North Shore of Minnesota, which was like New England without New Englanders, or Door County WI without Chicagoans.
Door County without Chicagoans would be as close to heaven on earth as you could get. Best thing to come from Illinois is an empty bus.
Maine takes up a lot of my mental space, probably because I don’t go there.
I thought this was a funny statement, no doubt inadvertently so. I’ve never been to Oregon, Idaho, Montana, either of the Dakotas, Nevada, Mississippi, Alabama, or a bunch of other states (Maine included), and I spend zero amount of time thinking about what I might be missing.
My takeaway is that the top 1% are jealous of what the 1/10th of 1% have. And I have no doubt the 1/10 of 1% are jealous of what the 1/100th of 1% have. Who are the Rothschild family jealous of? No doubt there’s someone!
"Who are the Rothschild family jealous of?"
Me, but don't tell them I told you.
“Here’s to the town of Boston, The land of the bean and the cod, Where the Lowells speak only to Cabots, And the Cabots speak only to God.”
Growing up as a "townie" on Cape Cod, I never resented the "summa people," except that there were so many of them, and we had to work long hours (it's a short season) while they were all on vacation. They brought money and pretty girls. September and October, after the crowds left and the weather was usually glorious, were always the best. (Spring came in late June and lasted about 2 weeks).
It's not enough for these leftist twits to be miserable. They must make everybody else miserable, too.
And that's why I've spent my entire life - personally and professionally - avoiding people like this. Wallow in your own misery. You deserve it.
The SO vividly remembers a bitd conversation her grandfather had with another logger about acquiring most of Big Sky for an attractive price for harvest. Grandpa passed because of the distance from home…
The brothers A frame in the northeast kingdom was supposed to be sold and split but the uncle couldn’t let go so dad had to subsidize so uncle could keep. Or so it goes…that’s about the extent of legacy summering…
Travel has become difficult for me but I have memories - the bread of the old. And I like to get on Google Earth and look at places you read about. Andrew Marvell wrote a poem, Upon Appleton House. It has a whole literary and historical background which I have been "visiting" this summer. I know what a water meadow is which I didn't know at the start of the summer. The "Early Modern Era" to which Marvell belonged has been reinterpreted by the creatures who now infest English departments as the start of all our woes. Here be Monsters according to the new iterpretation: patriarchal, misogynist colonialists originated in this era. And just as our columnist of today didn't like summer camp but also doesn't like to think of others enjoying adult summer vacation life and so has been miserable in the summer for her whole life so these literary critics are miserable reading the poets they write about. The great house of literature in their hands has become a dank, musty mansion. Doors creak. Footseps are heard but no one is ever there. Ghosts of the great, now shown up as the oppressors, slip by as shadows. For the PoMo critics that's all there is. But anyone who wants can still read Andrew Marvell or anyone else. You don't even need Google Earth to get to Appleton House or A Mid-Summer Night's Dream - you just need to know a man from a woman, greatness from jealous spite.
Post a Comment