Gotham goes to Vermont

By the time Pam & I hit the scene in the winter of '85, a New York City crowd was already well established in the towns of Wilmington & West Dover, VT—home to Mount Snow. Spurred on by the fact that my latest ex, Alex, had a share there, I was determined to follow & win him back. Pam just wanted to ski. We both ended up joining Larry's Ski House, 5 minutes from the slopes, where he'd placed us as roommates. We hit it off immediately.

Larry—an inordinately social ski-maniac from Massapequa with wild, bushy red hair—& Pam also hit it off & became somewhat of an *item* while I *made the rounds* in an attempt to make Alex jealous & beg my forgiveness. Which it didn't, & he didn't, of course, because he was still with that Asian model he'd dumped me for back in September. But I met alot of great people who were very supportive—amongst them Rita, a textile designer with the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen, who hailed from Pelham, a wealthy suburb north of the City. By odd coincidence, she had a share in the same house as Alex (upon whom I waged a cold war for two full years after our break-up) yet nonetheless became one of my dearest friends.

By the summer of '87 my Alex-obsession had faded to a dull, throbbing pain, & Charmaine & I decided break off from Larry & run our own ski house for the '87-'88 season. We scored a beauty—6 bedrooms on three floors with stunning floor-to-ceiling windows, right across the road from Alex & Rita's place—& proceeded to solicit shareholders & establish our own presence at the mountain. Pam & Larry were long kaput, so she gladly joined us.

The Vermont ski scene (which soon morphed into a golf, tennis & party-in-the-City scene as well) was, perhaps, the greatest I've ever experienced or witnessed—especially between houserunners & their close friends. We were one huge clique, comprising possibly 3 dozen people, maybe more. The only time rivalry emerged was during recruiting season, but we never bad-mouthed one another; in fact, if a *prospective* interviewed at one of our houses & we thought they'd fit in better in another, we'd recommend it. That made for lots of happy campers. We skiied hard, chasing one another down steep or bumpy or treacherously icy inclines all day, & partied even harder after, usually well into the night.

Our scene evolved completely in '89, when we started going up year-round—our group so close it was almost like family. Of course there was Larry, Charmaine & me (by this time Pam was with Brian & no longer coming up). Cousin Brucie, BD, Lori (who became my surrogate *little sis*), Joe, Garth, Artie, Boomer, Laurie, June, Paul B, Paul L, Steve, Rita, Richard, Susie, Suzanne, Nancy, Andrew, Jeannie & Wally rounded out our clique. "Thicker than thieves," the old adage goes, & that sure was us. We not only flocked to Vermont nearly every weekend of the year to ski or golf, play tennis or just hang out, but also hooked up to party at clubs in the City during the work week, or to play tennis on Roosevelt Island (renting 3-4 courts there weekly), or for special events like Lori's annual Halloween party or Susie's annual Kentucky Derby bash.

It was, indeed, the best of times...times that somehow lasted for alot of years...times we thought would never end.

Introduction

To better understand the posts in this blog, you might first want to read a little about us in a section of another of my blogs (New York City Grrls) since I will not be reintroducing Pam or Charmaine (who continues to play a large part in my life) here.

As for me, I'm Jen—late of my beloved city since early '02. Totally freaked out after 9/11 (not to mention losing my job), I decided to take a break in Florida, where my mother lives, & have been here for the past three years. I like it here, save for the four months of summer when it is almost too hot to be alive, & save for the fact that the part of Florida in which I reside is rather lacking in job opportunities &, well, just plain dull. I sure do miss my City—it's energy, culture & the opportunity to be whatever you desired to be; it's proximity to everything wonderful you could ever want to do.

Oh, I've been back to visit Charmaine a few times, but in the past couple of months I've thought seriously about moving back. She is also encouraging me to do so—alot! However, when I find myself surfing apartment listings or scanning monster.com for jobs (as I did a little while ago, & found one that seems just perfect), I'm reminded of the famous line from Look Homeward Angel: "you can't go home again." My interpretation of this is that even if you do go home again, nothing will ever be the same because time changes everything & everybody; what once was cannot be recreated. Thus, I think I would be happier in the long run to let my memories remain just that—memories. Crappy boyfriends aside, my life in the City was so magical, my friends & social life extraordinary. Many of these friends are married with kids now, & the others? Well, outside of a handful (Joe, Paul B, Susie, Rita, Richard, Suzanne, Garth & Larry), I just don't know where the rest of them are now. Especially the women, because of name changes.

To wit: an excerpt from an email I received from Paul B, lamenting these sad facts: "Familiar people went away, some got married and sold their skis or had children and no longer can afford the sport. Going skiing at Mt. Snow means you go and have a drink at Cousins, then go home. Richard is one of the few that still has ties to the area, but others we knew are lost in the large crowd of new faces. We have been replaced by the new generation. We were slowly moved from the 1st floor to the second, then the third floor bar; now we are on the roof. Next year it will be the parking lot...."

This blog is dedicated to them, the incredible group of friends who made my last twelve or so years in the City so unforgettable, & in it I will recreate some of our more memorable times for you readers to enjoy. Slainte, shalom, whatever—here's to ya, guys ;]