My parents honeymooned at The Montauk Manor (now condos). As a result, Long Island became my family's official vacation destination. I learned to swim and ride waves on the endless Amagansett beaches. On rainy days, we shopped for crafts projects and jigsaw puzzles on East Hampton's rustic Main Street. I saw Jungle Book at the Bridgehampton drive-in. As I grew into my teen years, I hung out with bad boys and beer at beach bonfires and hit Snowflake for late-night cones.
The funky and casual beach community of my youth is now (according to In Touch and Star magazines) the "fashionable Hamptons." Ralph Lauren owns five (count 'em 5!) stores on Main Street. The tiny shop where I bought potholder loops (no, not that kind of pot!) is now a boutique. Snowflake is Cherrystones (where Gwyneth and Chris were spotted recently apres beach). And Big K, The Gap, and Banana Republic sit in big box splendor where Mogli and Ballou once romped on the big screen.
The beach is still pretty damned awesome. On weekends, you may have walk a mile to avoid the share house people playing elaborate beach games involving paddles, tossed objects, and score-keeping. (The bad beach boys are still around...they are just now athletic investment bankers.)
As I write this while lying on the beach (the secluded part), I wonder if any of the grains of sand, pebbles, or beach glass fragments around me were once part of that 1960s-70s Hamptons. I sure hope so. The thought that EVERYTHING from that era is gone is just way too sad.
Dead NY drive-in movie theaters
Burying someone in the sand ranks 46 in "favorite beach games"
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