FLASHBACK: TV House (1988)

I found family in the Pines which became even more important to me after I, an only child, was orphaned in 1992.  But the ferry first took me and David across the Great South Bay a decade earlier, during the off season.  The New York Times had reported the virus that became known as AIDS the previous July. 

Ferry Passengers

Harbor

Paul, an Irish actor, had invited us to help close up the house that he and Ed, an antiques dealer, owned and shared with a group of friends.  They had taken us to the Saint, too, and we adored Paul.  Ten years older than us, he had two young sons back in Ireland, evidence of the straight life he left behind.  Yep, Paul was an ACTUAL Daddy.

David & Paul (Ocean Walk, October 1981)

David took his first Pines share in the summer of 1987, not long after Holmes hired him as a junior set decorator on "As the World Turns," a CBS soap opera set in Oakdale, for which he eventually won an Emmy.  We were "just friends" by that time and he provided entree to a world that I had long dismissed as too gay.  Still, one visit to the TV House changed my mind and I took my first share the following season.  I didn't know the guest weekend had been my audition or that the Oakdale budget paid for the cut flowers and many of the other amenities that made their beach life so . . . sophisticated.

Holmes, 54, was big on ritual and insisted on hoisting heraldic flags every morning he was in residence.

David earned brownie points by assisting.  Trust me, you NEVER can have enough brownie points in a share house!

A committed Anglophile from a small town in Texas with a Yale School of Drama degree, Holmes was fond of his tea, too.  I'd never heard of a "cozy" until I met him.  He also uttered the single best aperçu I've ever heard about the Pantry:  "It's the only store this small that carries three brands of silver polish.  They know their market."

Holmes taught me everything I know about properly organizing a house.  He died of colon cancer in 2003.  His traditions survive him.

Every family needs a mother.  That was Jeff, who had not one but two Yale sweatshirts at the beach in case one got dirty.  He was a Francophile who worked at Remy Martin and cooked most of our dinners using the Larousse Gastronomique.  I thought he was a pretentious snob.  Then again, it takes one to know one.

David coasted on his charm, which could be considerable if you like that as American-as-apple-pie kind of thing.

Andy and Drew, the house "couple" certainly did.  Observing them trying to coax David into morning "exercise" on the ocean deck was like watching a bad porn movie.

Drew, who worshipped Sondheim and loved to stir the pot, referred to me as "kitten."  He knew a naif when he met one.

Neil, who helped market New York Philharmonic concerts, worked out a lot but never really fit in.  He was low man on the totem pole.  Every Pines house needs somebody to dump on. I'm pretty sure the experience scarred him for life.  He never returned.

Smokey donned her pearls as soon as she arrived at the beach.  When she wandered off one afternoon, the woman who returned her commented "We thought she must be from the Grove.  Nobody in the Pines would be seen with pearls after 6."

Look how high the primary dune used to be!

I took this last photo at my first Invasion when harbor perches were much easier to find. Only Andy, center, and I are still alive.  HIV claimed David, Drew and Jeff within four years.  

Paul was gone by then, too.  

Ed & Paul (October 1981)

To quote Liza (Kander and Ebb, actually) "But The World Goes 'Round."  I found a whole new family and returned from 34 consecutive summers, and surviving a second pandemic.    Hey Drew, you were totally right about Sondheim.  Luckily, "I'm Still Here."