(September 5) The purpose of the journey to West Sayville was Bradstock, a festival that originated in nearby Blue Point, and has wandered a bit around Long Island before settling in my old hometown of West Sayville.
Crafts
Kids, and Hula Hoops
Pete and Lisa
And lots and lots of people. This is the first year they sold out.
There was beer. And not shit beer. Louis and Viza would have approved.
Pete bought us some peace sign pins from the hippies.
A number of people were flying kites. I understand this is traditional.
The Great South Bay. I used to spend all my time on the north shore though. Go figure.
(September 5) As a child, I remember first living in Bohemia, NY. From there we moved to Ronkonkoma, and then to West Sayville, where I lived until I was 23.
Much to my surprise, a few blocks from the house I moved to at 16, was this.
A DeLorean dealer. This is what John DeLorean’s tears look like.
The finale of August was the attempted liquidation of the contents of two containers. The owners, a husband and wife died within a short time of each other, and the rent went unpaid, and at a certain point the containers and their contents became abandoned property.
There was a rather odd mix of things, but much of it was garbage that someone obviously believed would be worth something, someday.
It was sad to pick through, seeing so much money wasted on items designed to be collectible, including this tin and puzzle….
… full of 12 year old popcorn that looks frighteningly like fresh popcorn.
Additionally, there’s probably 750-1000 LP albums in various condition.
Wrapping up August was another trip to …
Central Park
Pete wanted me to take his picture next to that tree. So here it is.
Pete knows this girl from his trips to the park without me. I don’t remember her name.
She’s got good balance
This poor kid was swallowed whole by a bubble. Nobody tried to save him, they all just watched him get devoured.
The re-becoming something is well underway
And then it was time to leave
But not without a little street time first. (it’s a video)
The first morning in my new place, I awoke thinking a plane hit the house. Less traumatically, that’s how I woke up for weeks from the house house shaking from vehicle collisions with the potholes outside my window.
Those didn’t look like much even up close, but when the trucks rolled through them… oh boy.
Main Street, on an August early Friday evening
Some things are almost exactly as they were five years ago
Guess someone makes money from it
