Am I a visitor or home?
Here I sit in New Jersey, on the beginning of a journey. It is rainy and chilly.. and yet there are touches of spring all around. Warmer afternoons but the evenings and mornings are still chilly. Highland Park is beginning to feel more and more like home. Which is a good thing, but at the same time I have a yearning.
I have not been to Provincetown since January. Which for me is an eternity. For those of you who don't know me.. 2 years ago in March I decided I wanted a place in Provincetown. If I could find something within my budget. Harry and I had broken up, and I missed the feeling of gay community in Florida. I also had always enjoyed Provincetown. We always seemed to go for 5 days and stay a day or two more.
My first time in Provincetown is quite interesting. I had a 58 year old boy friend who was an English Professor and Opera singer and we did a road trip between Boston and Provincetown I think. I remember spending one night in a roadside motel. He didn't want to plan every thing. What is most memorable about the trip is I only remember the last few nights in Boston.
The next time was with Harry. I had an Oldmobile Bravada (yes SUV). We loved that vehicle. It had nice leather seats and a great stereo. Great ride on the road, but it had two other qualities that made it most valuable in the Harry and Brian Household. When Harry discovered the seats folded back and there was a huge amount of room.. and we discovered some nurseries he liked in Westchester and Rockland county he smiled. That meant it could hold lots of flowers. For me, in NY we had a very steep driveway and was quite wide. I needed something that could get out of the driveway in snow. This vehicle was AWD and could do that so easily it was quite scary. But, it was also a great road car.
So, we decided to go to Portland Maine and then on to Provincetown. I am not sure if we spent a night in Boston or not. But we did start with a night listening to James Taylor at an outside concert facility. What a great night, and we enjoyed Porland Maine a great deal. I don't remember Provincetown much again. I just remember a nice time and how easily the Bravada went from a flower mobile to a road car.
The next time we went to Provincetown was for Bear Week. Which is a gathering of nice men who tend to be hairy or like hairy men. It was quite nice and we stayed at the Gifford House and we went with a friend from Fort Lauderdale. I remember it was quite an enjoyable few days. There are two pools for men to lounge at in Ptown one at the Boatslip and the other at the Crown and Anchor. I liked the Crown and Anchor cause it was low key and just a more happy bunch. Harry loved the Boatslip. The sun was brighter, and he said at every half our everyone would get up and turn their chairs a quarter turn to make sure they got an even tan.
So, this started a ritual that every year or so Harry and I would go to Provincetown. We had a nice rhythm. We would not spend every waking minute together, but honest we spet good times and enjoyed it. I remember more than once not wanting to leave, or just throw in an extra day. And, I remember Harry being quite content to spend the extra day or two as well.
So, when Harry and I broke up, I decided to just give it a shot. I started looking on line for places and saw this cute little shack that was a small house with a loft and it needed work but had great potential. I sent an email to the realtor and we started to chat about it. In the mean time, an old friend from work wanted to go on a road trip. He was in Connecticut at the time. So I took the train to CT and he picked me up and off we went. It was March I believe, so there was not really much going on.
I looked at 7 places. The first was what I saw on the Internet. My realtor should get a prize for photography. It didn't need just a little work it needed a lot. Was not move in ready at all and looked like it had not been touched since it was built maybe 200 years ago. We then looked at a few other places. The next to the last was a small studio. Right on Commercial Street (the main drag) but the quiet end of town. I knew walking in that this was the place for me. There was a karma in the air, nice gardens all around, and it had a view of the water. An obstructed view, but a view is a view. I was on the way back home to debate the choice. I got a call from my last manager as I was walking through Penn Station. He was calling to tell me that a previous team mate of mine had a brain aneurysm and suddenly died. She was a very nice lady and a hard worked, but I always remember she was not happy. She was worried about the job, her mother, her pets... there was always something she was waiting on to be happy. I decided right then and there that I would make an offer on the condo.
I made an offer, and as all great things in life it took about 3 months to close. What an experience. The funny part was I wanted a stress free closing. I wanted everything associated with this place to be light and relaxing and no stress. I even took the train to the ferry. I shipped boxes to move in with so there was no great chaos on move in day. I sent the down payment for the mortgage to my attorney two weeks early to make sure there was no stress. So, I was walking on the morning of the closing. Just so excited that night I would be in the condo finally. I get a call from the Attorney asking me where the money was for closing. I said.. if you don't know I certainly don't. And, as I am not a rich man, I knew there was not more to be found either. She said she looked at her statement on line for the last few days and it wasn't there. I said I sent it two weeks before when she asked me to. She said nobody ever is this well organized and found it. So, the best plans can go awry due to being too prepared or organized.
So, I moved in, 310 square feet. I remember the day quite well. Turned out the selling agent was actually the neighbor downstairs. Lee has turned out to be a great friend, and I noticed a great realtor as well. She could not have merchandised the open house any better. (Upper right two windows)
View from the Windows..
Kitchen and Bathroom..
Turn Around and there are the front windows..
Then the girls (Lorie and Patti) down stairs were there, or showed up that afternoon. In come Gretta and Trudie ( nice dachshunds ) and they said we know you are busy but why don't you come down for wine and cheese at 5. And, then in come the fellows from across the hall while we are getting to know each other. Ted and Brendan, and their Corgie Gracie. All of a sudden I am in this great house of fun people who appreciate each other and get along. What a great surprise, and such a warm feeling. I was right there was great karma in that building that I could feel when I walked in that first day.
Provincetown is like an actress in a grand play. During show time, all of the people are dressed up and performing for the audience. In this case these are tourists and visitors. So while she is dressed sort of like the cast at Disney World she puts on a good face.. but as a long hot summer day she loses some of that shine as the season wears on. She is a great host and frankly allows these visitors to see a world and a life style that is not where they come from. People don't care generally about your occupation, or what you do back home. They care more about what you paint, read, or politics.
But, after the show is over, or a day off Provincetown is different. The locals are down to earth still interested in art, politics and they also add a few stories about tourists. They worry about the town, and the trend toward more transient (week end residents) and there is a calm about them all. My favorite time in Provincetown is maybe 6am.
Good people, good food, drinks, and Home.
Comments