Phase Three: Summer months inspire nostalgia

By:Arnold Bornstein
   Suddenly it’s almost mid-August and you wonder where the summer went and there are some random thoughts that you wanted to get to before they join the list of summer things that never got done.
   If you are not too far from Atlantic City, and reading this column would put you in that category, have you seen the newspaper ad for the "Torture Through the Ages Exhibit" at one of the hotel-casino’s? No kidding, the ad said it includes "over 100 artifacts dating from the 14th century" and it’s "unforgettable" and "Don’t miss it!"
   We usually associate artifacts with things such as pottery or tools from an ancient culture, but the dictionary tells us that the word also refers to objects made by humans, which would evidently include torture devices.
   Imagine coming out of the casino in either a good or a bad mood, depending on your luck, and figuring you would kill some time at the Grand Exhibition Center viewing the "artifacts." Or perhaps you would prefer to see the exhibit at a more convenient time, such as before or after dinner, provided that you could literally stomach it.
   I would assume that you would have an opportunity to see some of the devices used during the Spanish Inquisition or the Joan of Arc era or the Salem "witch" trials or perhaps in more modern times such as the Holocaust or even today when torture is still used in some countries.
   My initial reaction was that I am well informed about humans’ inhumanity to humans and do not need an apparently money-making exhibit about it, but the ad asserted that the exhibit was "endorsed by Amnesty International, USA," an organization that monitors the use of torture, among other things, throughout the world. If so, the organization’s aim apparently would be increased awareness.
   In any case, frankly I feel uneasy even when I see an animal or bird suffer. Our daughter lives by the beach on the south shore of Long Island, a great place to be during the summer. My wife and I were eating our lunch on the beach while the usual assortment of shore birds swarmed and lounged about off the Atlantic Ocean, looking for food. I spotted a sea gull with a deformed leg, apparently from an injury, and I felt good that I was able to get it some food before the other birds got there.
   Regarding food, we once again visited the annual Fancy Food Show earlier this summer at the Javits Convention Center in Manhattan. The exhibitors feature fancy foods from all over the globe, and it still amazes me that in spite of my commitment to a low-fat, low cholesterol diet, I gorge myself with samples as I walk up and down the aisles. It was surprising to see the number of exhibitors that are based in New Jersey.
   Also this summer, we accompanied our daughter to Boston where she took an intensive, four-day program at the Joslin Diabetes Center. I had forgotten how wonderful a city Boston is, as it possesses the sophistication, culture, entertainment and diversity of any major city, but seemingly without as much turmoil as New York City.
   Our hotel was about one mile from Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox. While my wife and daughter were at Joslin, I would take slow walks around the city, including one to the baseball stadium where I bought Red Sox baseball caps for my family. I am a Mets fan, however, and before that, the Brooklyn Dodgers.
   When you walk around Fenway Park, one of the oldest in baseball, your first thoughts are of Ted Williams, one of the greatest hitters the game has ever known and the last to bat over .400 for a season. I recalled the two times I had seen him play, and not on TV, at Yankee Stadium.
   A few weeks later, I went to a sports memorabilia show at the Freehold Mall. As I went from booth to booth and also looked at the people around me, I reflected on the waves of nostalgia that have engulfed us, and not only in sports. Collectibles have become a passion in just about all areas involving the past, ranging from movie posters to toys and all aspects of pop culture in between.
   I chatted with a dealer from whom we had previously bought an aerial photo of Ebbets Field, home of the old Brooklyn Dodgers, and It had been autographed by some of "the boys of summer" that had made them world champions in 1955. He told me that the market for Brooklyn Dodgers memorabilia is still very strong. I suggested that our interest in memorabilia and collectibles is related to memories of our youth.
   In the midst of the summer, I unexpectedly received an e-mail memory of my youth. A classmate from high school got my address from my cousin in Texas, and suddenly after several decades two classmates who have not seen or spoken to each other since graduating from high school are communicating electronically. For me, it was an unusual feeling, but there are Web sites on computers that specialize in locating old classmates.
   The theme of nostalgia also struck me when we were on the beach near where our daughter lives. There is a boardwalk along the length of the city’s beach, and entrance to the beach is blocked under the boardwalk. Access is on ramps leading off the boardwalk on the beach side, and each ramp has city employees that monitor the entrances. You must have purchased a season’s or daily pass in order to go on the beach.
   You may wonder about the legal aspects of how a city or a private entity could charge admission to a public beach. After all, who owns the Atlantic Ocean and its shoreline? At any rate, the city is paying for maintenance, cleaning, lifeguards and police.
   As for nostalgia, a day at the beach often reminds you of a previous visit, be it last summer or several years before. On this particular day, an elderly woman was punching the beach passes of those who were entering the ramp. Her assistant was sitting on a beach chair beside her and momentarily had her eyes closed, and I teased her by saying, "Are you sleeping on the job?"
   The older woman punching the tickets looked at me and said, "She’s dreaming of her youth. Don’t you ever dream of your youth?"