Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Spot of Fried, and Hat of Hilarity

I always recall, with a smile on my face, the summer I was 27. It was actually my "golden" year. 27th on the 27th.  My birthday in January including favorites: friends and food (or food and friends).

Then the summer rolled around and we had the party barge.  My group of friends made our way to Kenosha's finest beach week after week on Sunday afternoons.  The drive there included roads that wound through cornfields; the radio was turned high with songs to sing to.  We'd arrive at the beach, and the air was hot, and the water, (usually freezing, but a few times) actually perfect! 

We would pile on our barge, and off into Lake Michigan we'd go.  Normally we didn't get too far. It was after all Lake Michigan, and the actual boat boats, were impressive (and I might have been terrified we would be run over--- can you get run over by a boat?) and we were on something a little larger than a blow up raft. 

From that summer on, trips to Kenosha always remind me of a few things, namely friends, music and a yellow blow up raft that surprisingly did quite well in Lake Michigan.

Before leaving my home of ten years, Kenosha was on the list of things to do. Of course I can always visit, but.... I messaged the one person that I knew would really really know. 

"What do you want before you go?"
"Kenosha. The beach. The lighthouses. Music."

My ride was a blue pickup. The music was perfect, and we drove on up to Kenosha singing (kinda singing- I had laryngitis) and looking at the perfect fields and the gorgeous sky.

We ate at The Spot, a perfectly Kenosha location, and had "homemade" root beer and orange drink and of course ate fried.

Then there was the beach. It was cold. Bitterly cold, but no worries as we bundled up in warm fuzzy German hats (I was forced to wear the black one) and trounced along the beach taking pictures, finding rocks and remembering.

I am not so far that Kenosha cannot be reached.  Now there are just a few more beaches between here and there.

Michael, you always bring the music.
This next time though, maybe I'll bring my own hat.

Always, Stefonos

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