It may not be Temptation Island, but these locals know a thing or two in this slither of paradise
When I get old and lose my marbles, can you guys just let me read all my old stuff
I always loved the quote “do it for younger you” and “be the person your younger self needed.”
I mean, that may be a bit corny for some of you but man it’s just right on the money for me. It wouldn’t be like me not to be corny anyhow. And what better than talking about what I want? Focusing on what I want? Whats more important than that? Isn’t that the true pursuit of happiness, to follow your dream, and reach out and grab the things that really mean something to you? Isn’t that the true essence of our existence?
I’ve been soul searching this year and as I get closer to 30, it’s been profoundly confusing. But far more liberating, really.. It’s been an eye opening year. I’ve tried not to let the age of today, dictate the times of my tomorrow. I’ve been bothered by my age because realizing you’re getting older when you were always young is…shocking! It just happens and your left trying to figure out if you should be paying into a 401K, like dude. No.
I don’t want to do that.
Ew, I am the person I least liked listening to when I was young.
My dad use to bartend at a hole in the wall bar called The Rainbow in Greenwood Lake NY. It was a gathering hole for locals and tourists just passing through. Some were families, others were just there for the ride on their own account. What I mean is, 3/4 of the place was local drunks and then in the off chance a tourist passed through, they would awkwardly order their family dinner for fear of doing a 180 the minute they walk in. The best was there was always a local band ripping some Jimmy Buffet, talk about Americana.
It was one of those places that if you’ve never been there, as soon as you walked in, you realized you probably didn’t belong. But you would order an appetizer not to offend the obvious local crowd and whisper to your wife without letting you’r kids hear.
“One appetize….. One drink….”
“We need to get out of here.”
Truth be told, it was anything but a place you wanted to skip out on. Yeah, it smelled like old wet wood and bourbon. The music was great, and cigarettes machines were fully operational. At a cost of course. It wasn’t until 2010 that the Family Smoking and Prevention and Tobacco Control Act banned these. By 2010 The Rainbow was barley hanging on by a thread. It had seen better days and some of my best childhood memories were filled in that place. Dad worked there for years bartending and do whatever other odd jobs around the property.
There she is in all of her beauty. A grand back deck for outdoor seating. I spent years running around this place. This back area overlooked the lake and boat slips. It was the same place my dad caught a fight, stuck his finger in the fishes mouth, laughed, and was immediately bit. Easter was the best. The property vast and hiding spots endless. Instead of choclate like normal families, Dad would fill the eggs with money.
Best part? We lived directly across the street.
Which made visiting a hop skip and uhh in my dads case “a walkie talkie chirp away.” Back in the day, walkie talkies were a thing, and my dad utilized them to their fullest capabilities. Most days I could of been seen cleaning cups behind the bar for local patrons to help my dad during rushes. I loved it. There was the year I raised money for Jump Rope for Heart. I raised the second most in the school in my elementary days all thanks to those locals wanting to help a kid out. Of course my dad probably greased the skids by offering up some free lager and bourbons.
Do you blame him? He was probably thinking “It’s not my alcohol so its no skin of my back.”
The Rainbow had boozers I still know personally today that have watched me grow up over the years. I still love taking trips up to the lake where my brother currently lives. I don’t make it up often but I make it there as often as I’m suppose to.
I would run around the bar collecting payment for my school fundraiser while my dad cackled in the background. He loved watching the drunks get swayed by some little kid. After all, these were some pretty burley people, rugged, blue collar types. They were by definition “the working class.” Remember when those people existed?
Running in circles as the band would play I’d be cashing in on these guys like I just cracked open the ATM. The whole joint was filled with smoke like we were all one big smoked pigged stuffed into this place. It felt like a game of Ring around the Rosie just spinning in circles taking cash out of the hands of the locals. Except looking back on it, I felt high, even magnetic. I would compare it to being on LSD today. It was a real trip.
No pun intended. Okay, maybe a little. I’m writer! I have to get my licks in somewhere. Who better than you, my unsuspecting reader? One minute were talking about our favorite past times, and now were tripping on LSD. Wait. Wrong story.
My dad’s nickname was Boché (BACH-E). Short for Bachagaloop. I asked him when I was younger where did it come from and he said it was one of the chefs he used to work with at The Rainbow that just started calling him that. What a name, huh?
The towns people would yell “BOCHE! The kid got me for twenty bucks! What’re you teaching this kid!?”
“Boche, the kid got me again for another hundred! I can’t even believe it!”
For shits n’ giggles I looked up this name and found this video and I assure you, some random guy from 10 years ago was more ahead of his time than he realized. Not a bad little bit even if that’s not your thing.
All while falling absolutely out of their bar stools from excitement. The energy of this place and this time period was electrifying. They ragged on me as a kid, my brother too, but they loved my dad and we loved them equally as much. My dad couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it, and shit. Those drunks are probably still wondering where their emergency 100 bucks went.
They’d say “Just wait kid. One day you’re not gonna be this young and cute.”
“One day, you’re gonna be old.” They’d gurgle like gargoyles.
I remember thinking how dead wrong they were.
“I’ll never be old” I’d say to myself.
“I’m gonna be young forever.”
Oh how I am eating my words now. HAHAHA.
It can all turn out to be a real hack, if you let it. Now the place we lived at right across the street from The Rainbow, is a leveled site. Just recently they bulldozed the property. It’s been vacant for years and big time developers are coming into town to turn it into some restaurant. I can see the headlines now:
“A locals favorite! Smokehouse BBQ for family. Stop in for our new angus burgers!”
I can hear my dad rolling in his grave letting out a series of grunts and growls “Ha. Some new joint in town. Probably won’t last.”
I happen to agree. Theres no big time corporation in the world that has a clue what keep the locals, well localing. No amount of market research is gonna tell you what you need to know. It’’s not til you spend time with the locals to see the real joy of it all.
The joys of being young are the naiveté of it all. You just think you know something. It’s like you have a secret that no one has yet to figure out. I just assumed I knew better than anyone and everyone. No way in hell was I gonna get caught listening to some guy name “Uncle Joey” that reaked of cheap beer and had eye balls sunk into his face. And sure as shit wasn’t about to take advice from some “Aunt Peggy” either. These people weren’t even my Aunts and Uncles!
I loved them like family though. Actually saw Uncle Joey a few weeks ago, beer belly still as big as ever. My dad use to always ask him “Joey, when the twins due?” Aunt Peggy is a real person too. Ironically enough, both related to a certain Derek Jeter.
I’m reminded that I have to stay the course, align with my vision and remain steadfast. Especially when it makes NO SENSE at all. When it feels like a void. I’m learning that getting older, all to often we try to fit into a mold. It’s a deadly thought, but we try to be what we think the world want’s us to be. We stop acting like ourselves somewhere along the line. We become sensitive and insecure because were so aware now. Our sense become hypersensitive, feelings we’ve never felt before. Suddenly a normal conversation feels more like an indictment. Every time I bump into people unplanned I can’t seem to think straight.
“Please God, let me go. I need to go. I have to get inside to my safety. I’m tired, I feel used and abused. I have to go.”
It really becomes a trap trying to squeeze into a shape you hardly are. You can’t be something you aren’t and the more you try, the more life will give you opportunities to show you why. It’s a painful process but the gift of getting older is the wisdom you never had. Now, you actually know a thing or two.
I’ve been feeling so left out, yet I’ve done everything to remove myself from everything and everyone. I’ve been feeling trapped stuck “working” and “just getting by.” Pursuing stand up and writing is one of my favorite things to do but even that has felt like an impossible mountain to climb. It really has! Those are things I love to do, the things that give me a sense of me. They remind me there’s more to work and just getting up to go after my paycheck.
Peter Farrelly talked on a podcast with Bernard Hiller from 2020 about his journey as a writer. He talked a lot about “finding your providence in life” and “how it’ll all start to flow” once you start pursuing that thing. If you can go after your dreams and align with your highest self, how it all comes together was the consensus. Pretty typical of any podcast for someone who just made it from pursuing their work. He went on that podcast right after winning a Golden Globe for his work in Green Book in 2019.
I loved what he had to say though because he has a great backstory.. I also feel Peter is a fantastic writer and I admire him for his work especially in Loudermilk the TV show with Ron Livingston and Will Sasso. To me, he’s just a human doing human things with an inspiring backstory and a unique take on what it means to follow your journey. I know the price of reaching your providence, your forward momentum and he talks about these things with such refreshing insights.
If you wanna learn more about finding your forward momentum, check out my latest podcast this week here. I talked all things Bill Burr, Peter Farrelly, and most important; how to give yourself grace.
I remember those days at the Rainbow. It’s like nothing mattered.
My dad isn’t here anymore but I know he would want me to love every minute of my life and not spend so much time just working, getting by, becoming dodgy in things I love, and just treating life so lukewarm. He was so full of life and really couldn’t careless what anyone thought or had to say. In that way, he was invincible. He was rugged. He was sweet and even thoughtful.
Theres gonna be times in our lives I’m learning where I don’t feel like I’m in the right generation. I trust while I’m rugged like those old men at the bar, I have love in me. I trust that even as I get older, I’m allowed to be graceful in my approach. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing. It doesn’t have to be so god damn painful and mundane. I don’t have to always impose those limiting beliefs on myself and the best life to live is one without bounds.
I think theres so much to be grateful for when were lost and feel misplaced. I think that’s that challenge for us as a race. What we need to see most often presents itself when we least want to see it.
There’s a beauty in the unknowing. I think “What would little me think of this? What would he want? Would he be proud of this person I’ve become?”
Nothing but love for the journey, and as I get older, I realize I have nothing but love for the past too. Those are the moments that shape all of our lives, and we ought not to stray from our roots. May you make younger you happy and proud.
OR force yourself into a mold.
The choice is yours.
I’m definitely gonna be channeling that younger me spending his Summer days at The Rainbow with his Daddy fucking with the local drunks. Getting old or staying young, whatever.
Anthony