Out With The Old, Saying Goodbye to Spring Glenn

Why oh why do we hang on to old stuff? Ratty Beavis and Butthead t-shirt, with shredded neckline? Lipstick of the 80’s that made us look part-robot? High-heeled shoes that were worn once, ‘that’ time when the colors teal and coral were in?

We feel a certain nostalgia and are often clinging to items that remind us of a day gone by. The older we get the quicker our memory goes, well at least those with Alzheimer’s running in our family, and though that sounds like I am trying to be funny, I mean it in the most serious way. There is a part of me that keeps that lipstick in my bathroom drawer, cluttered by a gajillion other items I’ll never use like the this bottle of Tresamme hot oil treatment, yet it remains. It’s absurd, I know. No one ever sees my hair since its mostly covered by head scarves or a wig, and it doesn’t even NEED a hot oil treatment! I have been meaning to purge, to just let it all go.

I simply cannot. I know it will feel good to rid myself of the St. John’s sweatshirt an old boyfriend bought for me, I’ll probably miss it for like a minute and would be able to make room for new, non shredded clothing. Yet I am attached. Not because I loved that guy, far from it, he barely spoke English (no judging), but because it reminds me of ‘that’ time. Up in the mountains, for the summers living a cleaner version of Dirty Dancing, living across the lake in bungalows set far away from the hotel patrons. Those silly youthful nights are remembered every time I take that sweatshirt out, since that is where I met this pretty foreigner, upstate, the second summer.

Those summers were the most outrageous I have ever spent. I totally went out of my comfort zone. True, I went with a best friend and another girl that I was friends with from high-school but we shared these new experiences for the first time, chilling out with kids from New York. They all seemed so much more knowledgeable than me in ways of flirting, hanging out, etc…and were certainly more aggressive than I’d have ever been. It was super-duper fun, all.the.time – besides trying to sleep in the dead heat where you’d sweat from just breathing – but even that was something we joked about later on.

This was the dining-room of the Davidman’s Homowack. Once, a guy I was in love with (not the foreigner) was asked to move someone’s Lexus and he asked me to drive with him! I can still remember the smell of the leather seats. All we had to do was move it from the parking area (featured here in front of the dining room) to the tennis court area right across the street. But we didn’t do that of course, we took a grand tour through the estate. It was 10 minutes of bliss. I smiled for days after. Can we say a collective “loser!”?

This was also the same kid who was trying to impress the group with a roundhouse kick, asked me to stand still, as his leg came around and I got a size 11 sneaker in my eye. Boy was I seeing stars and not the kind with a little cherub floating by either! And again, “looooooser”!

It was a pretty cool hotel as far as I was concerned even if they had not decorated since the 60’s groovy motif. It included a bowling alley, which we used and danced in. There was a game room that we spent way too many hours killing the high scores on the pinball machines and Centipede and Pac-Man. There was an indoor mini golf course, an ice skating rink, and an indoor and outdoor pool. There were rowboats and a lake and a golf course.There were night acts; musicians, singers, magicians, comedians. We even named a kid Scooter *(Muppets reference) because he was the guy in charge of the lights at these shows. Not sure I ever knew his real name. We worked hard but played harder. We went out dancing in the evenings at other hotels that made these “nite clubs” for teens. Anyone who wants a real glimpse can check out THIS link, I was immediately thrown back in time.

I smiled looking through all the old pictures, so many of my memories flashing before me. I was a camp counselor for 2 summers. We were lazy and silly and made lots of trouble. I met some really crazy cats there to which I am proud to say I am still friendly with today and smile when I hear their names. I memorized the words to It Takes Two by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock to impress Sneaker Boy. We’d eat salty french fries doused with ketchup late at night in the Tea Room. I was even given a surprise birthday party in the Pool House which served as a the guy’s sleeping quarters. Our boss, an older women, had a double pierce in one ear which at the time was the fashion, and of course I thought was ludicrous.

Of the many experiences there are some that stand out more than others. We got scared walking over the bridge late at night by cats with glowing eyes, we witnessed a dead deer, we’d watch the huge goldfish swimming in the lake as we paddled by, we played human bowling and it was the first time I ever heard of, and never in my life would try something so ugly, called a cheese roulade that was served as a Saturday Night special. It was the first time I met a transvestite or anyone told my friend -out loud anyways- that she had child-bearing hips, or witnessed a knife fight with ex-cons that were hired as kitchen help.

Memories are funny. The ones that hurt the most are often the ones that stay with us the longest. It is just as important to hold on to the funny, the good, the happy memories of one’s childhood. As parents it’s important to help create happy memories for our children.

When I see my ratty old sweatshirt these thoughts come to mind. These cherished, yet wacky memories. It’s for these reasons I hate to depart from it. It’s for these reasons we hang on to our “junk”. One of these days I’ll chuck it I’m sure, perhaps after I find some of these from Great Adventure.

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6 comments

  1. Great Post Cherri! I’ll take those shoes if you still have them…I like to share the wealth of my old stuff by swapping with friends and acquaintances. That way it is going somewhere good and I get new funky stuff… see you at the Holtz simcha :-).

    1. Thanks MM! lol – I never actually owned those shoes, sorry, great idea about swapping with friends, plus here 80’s fashion never goes out of style 😉

  2. This is hysterical. I didn’t know you had a blog. I have not been on FB for quite some time. I am going to be up all night reading them. Any memories of 90-91????? All thos 80’s styles are BAAAACCCCCKKKKKKK. I hated those irridescent shirts back then and now my daughter is wearing them I HATE IT. LOL

  3. I googled “Davidmans Homowack” being nostalgic and came upon your blog and just wanted to thank you for bringing back some great memories from my teenage years. I lived about 10 miles from the Homowack and worked summers and school breaks there from when I was 15 until I graduated from college in 1990. It was a family affairs for our household. I and both of my older sisters worked there babysitting, in the daycare, and at the reservation desk. The Davidmans were a great family and I think the “older woman” was Sheri who had been in charge of daycamp for many years. I remember following waiters, bus boys, and bell hops around and hanging out with the kids from “the City” who came upstate to work for the summers. I am not Jewish, but I learned a lot about many of the traditions and customs during my time spent there, and developed a great respect for the beliefs and traditions I learned about. Thank you for bringing back some awesome memories. I have shed a few tears tonight when I see what has become of this place that was such a huge piece of my childhood!
    Kris Campbell

    1. Hey Kris –
      Thanks for taking the time to write. Just missed u there, I was there summers 1990 and 1991!
      Her name WAS Sheri and I also was so saddened to see the state of the property…I actually became a neighbor of the oldest Davidman son my first year iiving in Israel, 9 years ago…small world! Glad to be able to have brought back some fond memories from you as well.
      Cheers!

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