H-2-0 and Charlie Robinson
I have always loved water, oceans, lakes, rivers. I don't think I could live any where land locked. I need water. I need to see it, smell it and touch it Growing up it was Coney Island, Jones Beach, The Jersey Shore and the Hudson River. Not where it meets the ocean in Manhattan but up north where it winds it's way through the Hudson valley.
When I was little maybe even before I was born my parents bought a little summer house on the Hudson. This was a big thing because $4000 was a huge amount of money to them at that time. They had a mortgage of $20 a month on it and would spend any "extra" money they had slowly fixing it up. It was a tiny little house with 2 rooms downstairs and 2 rooms up and it sat on a point of land where the Roundout Creek emptied into the Hudson. I think it used to be an Native American village before the white folks kicked them out because I was forever finding arrow heads just laying around in the yard. Later this would be confirmed by the local college's anthropology class asking for permission to dig (permission denied by my dad who told the professor "Don't you think you've taken enough?". I guess later it became kind of a dump because there were all these old bottles from the 1800's laying around also. I used to collect them along with the arrow heads . I would take them back to the city and show them to the kid's in my neighborhood but they didn't believe they were real.
We would spend just about every weekend up there and most of the summer. My brothers hated spending so much time up there, it took them away from their friends and the excitement of the city. But I loved it. (until I got older) I had so much freedom when we were there. I could pretty much go outside whenever I wanted, get as dirty as I could and best of the best my dad would take me fishing. I loved that time with him . He worked a job that would keep him from home for several days at a time so any time spent with him was precious. I love that time with him so much that I would grab my little bamboo pole, dig some worms and run away to the river when I missed him or was upset about something . Some how I felt safe there. Not what your typical 4 year old should do and for the record I couldn't swim yet. This behavior would send my mother into a panic with good reason but I never stopped. She would threaten to never let me go fishing again, keep me in the city, spank me, tell my father to spank me (he never did). I would risk everything to get to the waters edge.
I still go to the waters edge when I'm sad or upset but I also go there when I'm happy or when I want to remember my dad or just because. Memories of my mom take a different form but water is all about Charlie Robinson and me.
When I was little maybe even before I was born my parents bought a little summer house on the Hudson. This was a big thing because $4000 was a huge amount of money to them at that time. They had a mortgage of $20 a month on it and would spend any "extra" money they had slowly fixing it up. It was a tiny little house with 2 rooms downstairs and 2 rooms up and it sat on a point of land where the Roundout Creek emptied into the Hudson. I think it used to be an Native American village before the white folks kicked them out because I was forever finding arrow heads just laying around in the yard. Later this would be confirmed by the local college's anthropology class asking for permission to dig (permission denied by my dad who told the professor "Don't you think you've taken enough?". I guess later it became kind of a dump because there were all these old bottles from the 1800's laying around also. I used to collect them along with the arrow heads . I would take them back to the city and show them to the kid's in my neighborhood but they didn't believe they were real.
We would spend just about every weekend up there and most of the summer. My brothers hated spending so much time up there, it took them away from their friends and the excitement of the city. But I loved it. (until I got older) I had so much freedom when we were there. I could pretty much go outside whenever I wanted, get as dirty as I could and best of the best my dad would take me fishing. I loved that time with him . He worked a job that would keep him from home for several days at a time so any time spent with him was precious. I love that time with him so much that I would grab my little bamboo pole, dig some worms and run away to the river when I missed him or was upset about something . Some how I felt safe there. Not what your typical 4 year old should do and for the record I couldn't swim yet. This behavior would send my mother into a panic with good reason but I never stopped. She would threaten to never let me go fishing again, keep me in the city, spank me, tell my father to spank me (he never did). I would risk everything to get to the waters edge.
I still go to the waters edge when I'm sad or upset but I also go there when I'm happy or when I want to remember my dad or just because. Memories of my mom take a different form but water is all about Charlie Robinson and me.
posted by RacialRobinson at 2:05 PM
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