If we’re into misnomers, my native state is, of course, The Empire State. Across a certain river nearby lies another famous piece of real estate officially known as The Garden State, or, New Jersey. As a city boy in the 1940’s, I spent several summers there.
These days, the state is better known for its more contemporary contributions to American society such as Bruce Springsteen, “New Joisey” and, of course, The Sopranos. To a city kid of postwar Queens, NY, however, it was “the country”. It was home to a couple of French resorts a few hours drive from NYC. I spent a couple of summers there following my junior and senior years of high school. Not exactly the Jewish Alps.
One such establishment was owned by a French couple, Henri and Jeanette Diage. They ran a restaurant with a limited menu, and several rooms for lodging. Nothing fancy; catered to folks who were French, or, French descent, in the decade following the end of WWII. We Franco-American kids staffed the restaurant, without too much regard to liquor, or for that matter, child labor laws. Typically, my folks negotiated with the Diages for my services. Nothing in writing, or any such nonsense. For a stretch of 10 weeks in the good ol’ summertime, I could make a minimum of $160! Imagine that! Wouldn’t see a nickel of it until end of summer; maybe a few bucks more, mais, on verra.
For this princely sum, we washed dishes. During my final summer, I was promoted to breakfast cook. I learned to make scrambled, fried and boiled eggs, as well as pancakes. (Learned at the feet of a master, I might add). Seven days a week.
We working stiffs mingled freely with guests. Every two weeks, the kitchen help went to the movies, along with guest kids, on the house. Boys and girls together, me ‘n some neat girls. I even fought my one-and-only bar-room brawl. Talk about a rite of passage (proved to be useful experience in a later gig as a naval officer).
Hard to believe what has become of the American dream, summer, and all kinds of stuff. No one was afraid of global warming (or, do I mean climate change?). Don’t recall any school shootings, either. Yes, the Russkies had acquired The Bomb, but weren’t they the gang that couldn’t shoot straight? For some reason, we kids weren’t particularly scared. Maybe we shoulda been.
Rogernarc 