I am in my hometown of coastal North Carolina, aging parents, distant brother, surrounded by the beginnings of my life. Since I was 6 weeks old, my family has been a member of a local beach club. For now 50 years, I’ve been coming to this institution, basically a huge beach house which occupies two square blocks. A place where every doctor, lawyer and accountant worth his salt is a member. If you are anybody in this city of 150,000, you’re either a member or desperate to get on the waiting list stretching beyound 500 names.
This evening I’m cooking a dinner of shrimp and corn at thebeach club. A childhood friend, someone I haven’t seen in 35 years, came up and re-introduced himself. He gave me a warm hug. I had scampered around with him as a child. We’d lived only 2 blocks from another. And there he was, a wide smile, a long lost friend.
The heartfelt smile was one of saying that as far away as I’ve run, I haven’t run but so far. These are people who know me. A connection from the past. A connection that binds me with today.
I looked at so many today, seemingly happy with there lives, never having ventured more than 200 miles from this very spot. They ask “how I’m doing”. How am I doing?
In all the seeming normality that surrounds me, surely there must be stories. Stories of discontent, intrigue and sexual deviants. Surely this well heeled society must have stories. Stories similar to my own. Stories which would otherwise shock this bed rock of a community.
I leave the club late in the evening, the waves of the Atlantic illuminated by moon, sea oats wave in the never ending ocean breeze. There is a urgency now to me. An urgency to propel myself forward.
We will all be old n’ gray before we know it. The time to take action is now. What do I want from my life? What do you want? Waiting is for people who like to wait. It is never the right time to make a mistake. It is never the right time to experience life at it’s fullest.