Friday, March 31, 2006

Rhode Island Born, Rhode Island Bred

Things I Miss About Rhode Island That I Remember When It's Nice Out:

Aunt Carrie's. My good goddamn, they have the best clamcakes EVER. The restaurant is huge but very basic. My Mom loves it because it reminds her of her grandfather's summer "cabin" that he built in the woods near what is now our house, with the thin strips of wood that make it look like the place could be disassembled like a MASH unit and set up again elsewhere. The windowframes are painted dark green and the walls are yellow, and it just seems like you crawled into the early 1950s. Did I mention the clamcakes?

George's of Galilee. This was my favorite restaurant as a really little kid. I remember this because my Mom and Dad were driving me down, and I barfed in my Mom's brand new Escort station wagon. She was mad I barfed in the car. I was mad I didn't get to have dinner at George's. The food isn't as good as Aunt Carrie's, in my opinion, but the location is much better. Alicia and I used to go to the beach every weekend in the summer, then drive to George's and order clamcakes and chowder. We'd eat on the rocks, watching the Block Island Ferry come in. Some old hippies would play reggae songs in the bar, and we'd listen. Now we're old enough to sit in the screened-in bar, have a 'Gansett in 'Gansett, and enjoy the music up close.

Newport. Yes, it's touristy. Yes, it's expensive. But it's also beautiful and worth the hassle. Also, I hope to run into that nice boy I had a date with last year and hope he develops some cajones and asks me out again. Ahem.

The Beach. This beach is the only one for me. Close to my Mom's house, relatively affordable, lots of surfers and clean water. A fun sea wall to watch college girls in bikinis strut, Harley-guys with beer guts watch the girls and show off their hogs, notes of music floating by out of passing cars. Even before it gets warm, it's nice to walk and fly a kite. I miss the beach. Revere Beach just isn't the same.

Bess Eaton iced coffee. As every high school senior in New England can testify, the coffee of choice is the affordable jolt at Dunkin Donuts. But when it got warm and I had time to kill before Drama rehearsal, I'd drive to Bess Eaton and pick up a Tank, which was 24oz of iced goodness. The coffee was weaker than Dunkin's, but they put little ice pellets in your cup with the Bible-quote, filled it with coffee and sugar, then sloshed that into a plastic tumbler, then back into your cup. Awesome. Also, Bess Eaton was the donut shop of choice for my town's finest cops, so that's saying something.

The Fantastic Umbrella Factory. Again, another early-childhood favorite. What's basically a hippie commune sells an impossible variety of gauzy skirts and tops, Bob Marley posters/tshirts/bumper stickers, and puka-shell necklaces. But there is a working farm, and I had the best lemonade of my life at the Spice of Life cafe. When I walk down the splintered shell paths, and look at the rusted-out antique truck that was there even when I was a kid I am instantly comforted that some things remain the same.

Aww. Now I'm all sentimental. I wish it would be this warm on Sunday, because I'd be down in the Ocean State so fast...

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Awwww!

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