The children sat on my bed as I got dressed giving me a thumbs up or down for each outfit that I tried on. I was going with Melanie to a party that was being held for the Nantucket Comedy Festival and afterward we had been invited to see the show, “Don’t Tell Jerry Lewis Funny Women,”. It was imperative that I get the outfit right.
Melanie, of course, was dressed beautifully and we carefully made our way over the cobblestone roads in our stilettos to the party for the comedians held in one of those quintessential Nantucket buildings with a wrap around porch meant for languid evenings spent sipping cocktails while watching the people stroll by with dangling charms of lightship baskets and island emblems hanging from their necks and wrists and prints of whales and lobsters embroidered into the fabric of their clothes.
On Nantucket the word preppy gets inherited and generations of families dress in Lilly Pulitzer. It is the old world families who I love to observe the most as they drive their ancient cars around town to pick up their sugar snap peas and fresh cut flowers from the local vegetable stand and freshly caught fish from their favorite fish market.
Let me just tell you that no matter how beautiful and rich the people are in Aspen, Nantucket raises the bar on old world elegance and always where there is wealth there are long legged beauties holding the hands of men who seem to have been born with a Cuban cigar in their mouth and a yacht to play on.
I know you will have a hard time believing this but I can be very shy in social settings and in preparation for the BlogHer 10 Conference, I am working on breaking out of my box. I have found that my camera is my best friend in these situations inducing curiosity and smiles from others. The only thing I have to be wary of are the other photographers who feel threatened by the new kid on the block but as soon as they see my business card they smile and initiate me into their private club.
And who wouldn’t want to be part of Nathan’s club, shown above with Melanie. There is nothing wrong with a handsome photographer who dresses impeccably and then adds yellow hightops to the mix to make him even more appealing (his wife is just as beautiful as he is FYI).
As I worked the party I was thankful that for every lull in conversation there was somebody walking by with a deliciously cool drink on their tray and I, having abstained from the good life for far too long this past month, happily lightened their weight.
At the show our favorite comedians were Michele Balan and Robin Montague who stole the stage with their humorous observations about an island that seemed to be devoid of Jews or Blacks. “I’m keeping this secret to myself,” Robin said talking about the fully stocked guest houses that are in the back of the owners second homes. “I think I’ll hang out on their widows walk and wait for my whaler to come in,” she said to a very amused audience.
After the show we visited 21 Federal Street’s “back bar” and mingled with Melanie’s friends and with men who felt dangerous and adventurous in a cocktail drinking, jet setting kind of way. I kept my distance which of course only made them more intrigued. I mean, I lived here during the summers and was an expert on the bar scene but that was back when I was in my twenties where the boys and the girls were all looking for the same thing, somebody to go four wheeling with and somebody to frolic with late night on the beach after a night out of dancing at 30 Acres, the Chicken Box or the muse. Anything more serious would send me running into the arms of somebody else. This scene was far more treacherous with life altering changes that could happen with one slip of the tongue, pun definitely intended, and I was way in over my head.
I sidled up to the bar to get some help from my friend Don Jullio and a man with a thick Boston accent was removing the white napkin he had wrapped around his neck to fool the bouncer into thinking that he had a collared shirt on.? “Can I get you anything from the “Ba”?” he asked me. I politely refused his offer only to find on my other side a shark who? slowly swam in when I wasn’t looking. “Hellloooo,” he said grinning at me before slowly sipping his Espresso Martini. When he found out that I was a Massachusetts girl gone Colorado he tried to convince me that he also had a quiet side, during the day, where he hung out on his farm with his horses. I blatantly flashed my ring around as I spoke and kindly asked him to remove his hand from my posterior. “You’re married but that’s okay because I’m married to,” he smoothly said and I replied by saying, “Yes, but the difference is that I am happily married,” and with that he gave me his puppy dog look and waved a wad of cash to the bartender as if that might change my constitution. I turned my back and he slipped back into the water to attack some other unsuspecting victim.
That night I text messaged Wade before I fell asleep and said, “I’m home. No jail. I’m so glad that you are my husband.” He had sent me a message earlier telling me to stay out of jail for he knows that drinking often makes me feisty.
The next morning I went on a speed walk with all of my new single girlfriends and I listened with fascination as they spoke of a fellow islander who set up her ninety year old husband to capture him in an act of infidelity so that she could get the prenuptial annulled. I guess that’s one way to get rich.
Nantucket is rich, of this we are certain, and I am having a grand ole time tapping into the scenes behind the facade but when Wade called me the next morning to check in I told him that I was the luckiest girl alive to have a man like him and I slept the day away to recover from my one night out on the town. As I slept I dreamed of playing games of cat and mouse and I woke up so thankful that I was no longer in that single world.
Comedian Lewis Black Photo Bomb