Adieu Finisterre

      Uncle Jack and Mrs. U.J. fled the unseasonable heat and humidity of Bawlmer a couple of days ago and are presently ensconced in their former home on James Street in South Nags Head where the temperature has dropped precipitously into the low 80's after a front passed through last evening. This morning's walk on the beach was totally delightful.
      The neighborhood is not quite the same as it was the last time they were here in April.  Conspicuously absent is the oceanfront house known originally as Finisterre and more recently as Sal de Mer.  When they bought their house in 1994 Finisterre occupied the beachfront lot on the south side of James Street with one other house between it and us.  At that time it was protected by a substantial dune at least 30 feet wide.  A smaller 1950 vintage flat-top across the street was similarly situated.
      Subsequent northeasters chopped away at the dune, narrowing it substantially before the arrival of Hurricane Dennis in 1999 which obliterated the flat-top and did some serious damage to Finisterre as well.  The owner gamely put it back together and tried to replace the vanished dune with huge sandbags as well as a the bulldozed faux dune pictured below (which disappeared in the next storm).
     Uncle Jack is not sure of the exact sequence of events but at some time between Dennis and Isabel (or perhaps after Isabel in September 2003) Finisterre changed hands and the new owner renamed the battered house Sal de Mer.  In any case Isabel really did a number on the unlucky building, tearing off the front deck, sending the brick fireplace crashing to the beach and washing away the driveway and parking slab.
      The new owner struggled to stay ahead of Mother Nature's depredations but after subsequent storms kept tearing up the place, necessitating expensive repairs every year, he threw in the towel a year or so ago and the very silly bank that held the large loan on the place had to take it back.  They put it up for auction  but  apparently couldn't find anybody foolish enough to buy it.  And now it is gone.  Was it moved in one piece or was it torn down?  Stay tuned while Uncle Jack investigates.
       Uncle Jack chatted a number of times with the last owner of Sal de Mer, a very nice man who dearly loved his house. Apparently nobody told him when he bought it that it had already been moved back 90 feet from its original location and that the house across the street had  been destroyed in a storm years earlier.  Such is the allure of living oceanfront that it might not have made any difference even he had dealt with an honest real estate agent.

                                                    Finisterre's front deck after Isabel.

Finisterre post-Isabel.  Note new steps replacing wrecked deck.  They, too, washed away after a later storm along with the huge faux dune and the sandbags beneath it. Mother Nature is relentless.

                                        Sal de Mer last February, looking very vulnerable.

With Sal de Mer gone this house (right in front of Uncle Jack's old house) takes pride of place as the only oceanfront house on James Street.  A dubious distinction but it comes with a terrific view and a much wider beach.


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Can you spell "octogenarian"?

 Uncle Jack can.  Now that he is one he thought the least he could do was to learn how to spell it.  So far it doesn't seem a whole lot different from being a septuagenarian but that could change without notice if he falls down or has a stroke or one of those other ills that flesh is heir to as the bard put it. Will he live to become a nonagenarian? Stay tuned.
    Anyway he would like to thank all those faithful readers who sent him birthday greetings last week when he was up in Minnesota.  He couldn't read them until yesterday when he got back to Baltimore because his parsimonious brother still has dial-up ($9 a month for 58 minutes) so Uncle Jack's laptop didn't work up there.  Your kind thoughts were worth waiting for, though, and he thanks you again.
    It was fun to be back on his home turf for a week, surrounded by family and stuffing himself with the food and drink of his childhood----potato sausage, Swedish rye bread, bruna bonor (look it up) and Leinenkugel's Old Style Lager, the beer that has helped to make high school tolerable for generations of northern Wisconsin youth.
    The temperature exceeded 90 every day he was in Brainerd, Minnesota and to his further consternation Mother Nature (or perhaps God) sent a tornado to destroy the town of Wadena, only 60 miles away just after he arrived. He hoped to find relief from the heat and humidity back in Bawlmer but today, Friday the 25th of June, is the fifth consecutive day of sweltering, rainless weather with temperatures approaching 100.  With any luck he and Mrs. U.J. will be able to escape to Nags Head next week where it won't be so miserable. (?)
      
      

Old and Happy

     Uncle Jack just noticed that two weeks have passed since he last blogged.  "Time flies when you're having fun" it is said, and if a recent scientific study got it right this is especially true for older folks like himself.  According to the scientists there is strong evidence that once a person gets past 50 he tends to get happier with each passing year right up to the time he croaks---barring serious illness or some other idiosyncratic factor that might affect the psyche of any particular individual. He got this good news from an article in the New York Times this morning, a link to which he has provided below for anybody who would like to read the whole thing.  It's a pleasant change from reading about the oil spill catastrophe.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/01/health/research/01happy.html?ref=todayspaper

    The scientists could shed no light on why people should get happier as they grow older but Uncle Jack can offer some purely anecdotal evidence that might help.  For one thing he doesn't have to go to work any more.  This has freed up a lot of time for him to do the things he really likes to do, like  reading, for example, and watching the Orioles on his 52 inch, high definition you-know-what, even  
though they are the worst team in baseball at the present time. Being in a position to do almost nothing that you don't want to do can contribute greatly to your sense of well-being.  A little red wine every day doesn't hurt either. Uncle Jack knows.
      Anyway he just wanted to let his dwindling cohort of readers know that he is in fine fettle and too busy doing nothing to sit down and write a blog very often, for which he apologizes.  His only begotten son Eric and family will be visiting all next week from Los Angeles which means at least a couple of trips to our nation's capital among other sightseeing.  There should be a blog in there somewhere so look for something in a couple of weeks if you are so inclined.

    This picture turned up on Facebook a couple of days ago.  Uncle Jack can really identify with that frog.