To the Woods

When you love to do something so much that you do it every evening to unwind you can either develop a nasty habit or become terminally bored with it. Ice cream, beer, reefer, a cigar, brandy, or many other things enjoyed in moderation are lovely, but habitually indulging in them might be problematic. OK, you say, I can see that some of that stuff can be physically harmful but terminally boring?
It’s the problem of paradise – too much of a good thing becomes bad, or boring. Dig back to your days in college, the old neighborhood, or while hanging with your best friends. Every night, you’d get together and do__________. Bet you don’t anymore! It was a passing phase, just something you did with the old gang or had to quit. It’s not something you can’t wait to do anymore.

So, to illustrate, it’s storytime.

I lived in a neighborhood adjacent to one of New York City’s largest parks*. It had sprawling woods stretching north and east and was a fantastic hiking place. It was also a wonderful place for teens to carry a case of beer into the woods, head to the top of a hill, and cook out and drink. We did this often. Or, as the ad said, rinse and repeat. After my expulsion from high school, I wandered downtown permanently and became a habitue of Greenwich Village coffeehouses. My life took a radical turn in the next several years, and it was a long time before I thought of returning to the old neighborhood.
A few years later, I was on the road between Portland, Maine, and Philadelphia. A friend living in New York offered me a studio apartment as a layover spot for the weekend.
Being at loose ends, I hopped on a subway to the old neighborhood. My expectations were to find a place to eat, walk around, and then head back downtown. But I ran into Vinnie. Vinnie informed me that it was Friday night, and the old gang would head to the overlook for a fire and beer. I was amazed. High school was behind us, and I assumed everyone had moved on. Not so.

So I joined Vinnie, Becky, Lola, Jim, Carlos, and a few others at the lookout and watched the summer sun sink over the lip of a bottle of Budweiser. The gathering got a bit loud around nine, and like clockwork, New York’s Finest showed up to chase the crew off the overlook. It was like old times, running and hiding in the woods from the cops. We knew all the good spots, and they didn’t.
Afterward, Vinnie saw me to the train, and invited me back anytime. But I never went. Other things had replaced every Friday in the park for me.

I have a lovely firepit in the yard near the garden. It’s great to light up some firewood on a summer evening, watch the flames dance, and talk. I’ve even shared with my kids some stories about Vinnie and the old gang running from the Keystone Cops through the woods, lurking not three feet from them in some shrubbery while they lurched through the poison ivy.

But we don’t do it every evening. We prefer to keep our treats special and not abuse them until they become ordinary.

*No, not Central Park!

Daily writing prompt

How do you unwind after a demanding day?

View all responses