Monday, August 28, 2006
More Kismet
kis·met: Fate or fortune. That which is inevitably destined. The will of Allah. [Turkish, from Persian qismat.]
Megan & I stayed at the Kismet in '95, & a couple of friends came down for a night. Altogether, we probably tested the limits of what The Kismet's proprietors wanted for customers. But it was our last boardwalk trip together. She finished her art degree, we broke up, she moved to Jersey City was getting married with a few years.
A small edition of Boardwalk was finally published in'98 & to celebrate I spent almost a week by myself at The Kismet. It was a worthwhile week if a solitary one, giving me an opportunity to explore Cape May at my own pace, stopping wherever & whenever I wanted for as long as I wanted. If the proprietors of The Kismet liked quiet guests, they must have loved me that year. Pleasant as the time passed, having someone with me was better.
I returned once more, the following Spring, with a new friend, a woman from Virginia I'd gotten to know pretty well online. Since we were meeting for the first time, we booked separate rooms, but we arrived in the same car. I was a lot more anxious about this than my friend, who was taking the far greater risk. She was a smart, attractive, unpretentious woman who had grown up near Monticello & learned a good bit of American history the same way I had - by osmosis. She made me smile. We had a good weekend. She liked The Kismet & loved the sandbars at the inlet, still littered with large clamshells from winter storms. She knew how to walk on a beach. The roughness of the young pre-season weekend crowd on the huge Wildwood boardwalk made her nervous, & I didn't care much for the atmosphere myself. In a away, I think she would have felt more comfortable on a packed August weekday evening when the families come out to play. She loved Victorian Cape May City. Tears came to eyes when she had her first close look at the Caper May lighthouse, as we drove into the park & it suddenly towered over us. i wanted to surprise her. I'll never forget that moment. She went home with some cool souvenirs. Unfortunately, I subsequently scared her away with a poorly-timed return trip to Virginia. I haven't seen The Kismet since '99, over 7 years. It's still there, I suppose, with the same simple amenities of air-conditioning, cable TV, a picnic table out front, a grill if you want to cook burgers outside; the Lurae Motel & coffee shop with the bad coffee across the street & a convenience store around the corner; the beam from Anglesea Lighthouse flashing overhead at night, & an ocean close enough to hear & smell.
If I could live at The Kismet I'd give up most of what I own -which isn't much - to fit myself into a single room. Emily Dickinson made due on three books: The King James Bible, Collected Works of Shakespeare, & a dictionary. I have a computer & the internet. The boardwalk season begins & ends on schedule, but the natural seasons seamlessly change with ocean temperatures & migrating birds.
I'm a different person down there, perhaps a better person, if that means liking who you are. Maybe it's the higher ozone level. Would I be that person all the time if I lived there, comfortable in myself, or do I just need someone who understands why I would even imagine it?
"If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be." Thomas Jefferson
Megan & I stayed at the Kismet in '95, & a couple of friends came down for a night. Altogether, we probably tested the limits of what The Kismet's proprietors wanted for customers. But it was our last boardwalk trip together. She finished her art degree, we broke up, she moved to Jersey City was getting married with a few years.
A small edition of Boardwalk was finally published in'98 & to celebrate I spent almost a week by myself at The Kismet. It was a worthwhile week if a solitary one, giving me an opportunity to explore Cape May at my own pace, stopping wherever & whenever I wanted for as long as I wanted. If the proprietors of The Kismet liked quiet guests, they must have loved me that year. Pleasant as the time passed, having someone with me was better.
I returned once more, the following Spring, with a new friend, a woman from Virginia I'd gotten to know pretty well online. Since we were meeting for the first time, we booked separate rooms, but we arrived in the same car. I was a lot more anxious about this than my friend, who was taking the far greater risk. She was a smart, attractive, unpretentious woman who had grown up near Monticello & learned a good bit of American history the same way I had - by osmosis. She made me smile. We had a good weekend. She liked The Kismet & loved the sandbars at the inlet, still littered with large clamshells from winter storms. She knew how to walk on a beach. The roughness of the young pre-season weekend crowd on the huge Wildwood boardwalk made her nervous, & I didn't care much for the atmosphere myself. In a away, I think she would have felt more comfortable on a packed August weekday evening when the families come out to play. She loved Victorian Cape May City. Tears came to eyes when she had her first close look at the Caper May lighthouse, as we drove into the park & it suddenly towered over us. i wanted to surprise her. I'll never forget that moment. She went home with some cool souvenirs. Unfortunately, I subsequently scared her away with a poorly-timed return trip to Virginia. I haven't seen The Kismet since '99, over 7 years. It's still there, I suppose, with the same simple amenities of air-conditioning, cable TV, a picnic table out front, a grill if you want to cook burgers outside; the Lurae Motel & coffee shop with the bad coffee across the street & a convenience store around the corner; the beam from Anglesea Lighthouse flashing overhead at night, & an ocean close enough to hear & smell.If I could live at The Kismet I'd give up most of what I own -which isn't much - to fit myself into a single room. Emily Dickinson made due on three books: The King James Bible, Collected Works of Shakespeare, & a dictionary. I have a computer & the internet. The boardwalk season begins & ends on schedule, but the natural seasons seamlessly change with ocean temperatures & migrating birds.
I'm a different person down there, perhaps a better person, if that means liking who you are. Maybe it's the higher ozone level. Would I be that person all the time if I lived there, comfortable in myself, or do I just need someone who understands why I would even imagine it?
Labels: jersey shore, love, Wildwoods NJ
