From the streets of Manhattan, through the suburbs of Queens and Brooklyn, via the "fly-over" towns of middle Long Island, they came. And today they came in their thousands. Some set off early, very early. As I returned from taking Kate to school there was a disproportionate number of Mercedes and Range Rovers on Highway 27. Most travelled early afternoon, judging by the traffic reports and the increased frequency of ambulance sirens. The rump (ooh! Is that rude?) came into town this evening.
For this is the eve of Memorial Day Weekend. Memorial Day itself is when the United States pauses to remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice in the service of this country (it is on a par with Remembrance Day in the United KIngdom.) But such a dignity will be swamped by the social tsunami that is the Hamptons' Scene. Let the parties begin!
This weekend also marks the cultural beginning of summer in this beloved part of the world. No concept of solstice for these people, and the old rural calendars might be, for them, from another planet. They will not notice the osprey young, the piping plover or the turtles. Come to think of it they will not notice even the people around them. Unless those people are "celebrities." Whatever that term means. I continue to wonder, and despair.
Bless them. For the "season" has begun. And the antidote to their urban arrogance and rudeness? Kill them with courtesy, for they don't know what to do with it!
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