When I was a child, my Dad worked in an office and smoked cigarettes.
It was the late 1970's and things like smoking in one's office were totally a thing.
In the same office, sat his secretary, a woman named Joan, whose desk faced his.
Joan's New York accent was as thick as the smoke that wafted through their Manhattan workplace. Although I only visited there a few times, usually en route to a day filled with visiting The World Trade Center and the Statue of Liberty, I still remember it well.
I also remember random weeknights when Joan would call my dad at home to ask question about work. As soon as I answered the phone, she would begin to over-explain, announcing herself, "it's Joanie, Joanie from the office. Can I speak with Arthur?"
She was one of the few people who called my dad by his given name. And even as a kid, I enjoyed the disclaimer, 'from the office', lest we thought a random lady was phoning my dad at home, after hours.
Joanie from the office always struck me as innocent and a little naïve. She also had one more redeeming quality that I remember quite well.
She owned a beach house. In the Hamptons. It really speaks to my mantra, 'if you own a beach house and don't ever invite me, do you even own a beach house?'
Well, Joanie from the office had a beach house and invite us she did.
I'm not sure how many summers we spent there, but in my mind it was many.
Joanie's modest colonial with a grass filled yard and a short walk from the beach, has stayed with me all of these years. Mind you, this was long before the Hamptons was the Hamptons. I wasn't invited to Diddy's white party or anything. I mean it was 1979, for crying out loud.
Rather, I spent those chilly summer nights curled in the front window seat, just off the kitchen, conjuring up a plan to make it my permanent home.
Fast forward, more than thirty years later, Joanie never did sign over the deed to that great place, to me.
But, what she did give me was a gift that has lasted a lifetime: a myriad of memories, of my parents and me relaxing in cozy little beach house.
If I close my eyes, I am there again.
