My Old House

My dear friend Sheri loves to go to New Home Shows. You know the scene: a developer or charity takes over a house and shows you how to have a home that makes your friends feel like crap when they come over. A full in-home gym, a home theater with actual movie seats and a 108-inch flat-screen TV, six bathrooms, and an indoor kitchen with a Sub-Zero. I’m talking about the heart of the woman who lives there, not the appliance.

I never go to New Home Shows. I go to Old Home Shows. My old homes.

Next month I am going to another Old Home Show with my girlfriend Kristen. Or as my friends will call her - my next nostalgia victim.

It all started about ten years ago when I had a dad-daughter vacation in New York City with Landon who was nine years old at the time. We saw the Empire State Building, FAO Schwartz and ate in a cool restaurant in Little Italy. She asked me where I lived when I was her age, and I told her about an hour and a half away.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         The next day we were pulling off I-95 to drive down the main street of Old Lyme, Connecticut. My family lived there for only three years, but it was a tumultuous time. We lost everything we owned in a bad restaurant investment and ended up living in an old converted one-room schoolhouse that came with the restaurant. It was located right across the street on what was called the Shore Road, a blissful stretch of highway that brought nothing but misery to my family.

As Landon and I drew closer to the scene of my father’s financial ruin, I got a queasy feeling. Why was I choosing to show her this particular house out of all the places we lived? Why not the nicer houses, with memories associated with happier times?  I hadn’t set foot in this town for fifteen years. I hated this place more than Dick Cheney hates the New York Times. I still remember the day we were evicted, and the sheriff knocking on the door asking if I knew where some of the plates and all of the liquor bottles were.

We came around the corner, and I knew at the crest of the hill was the Alamo of my childhood security…. “Schlosser’s Countryside by the Sea,” the absolute worst name I have ever heard for a restaurant. “The Rancid Clam” would have been better. “Bob’s Crap on a Bun” would have been better.

“It’s right at the top of this hill, Landon,” I said in a voice that was a mix of excitement and dread.  I pulled into the parking lot and there it was. Actually there it wasn’t. The restaurant was gone. I got out of the car held Landon in my arms.  She had no shoes on and there were nails and rocks all over the lot. Either the place burned down or it was razed. There is an old restaurant joke about two partners, Manny and Sal.

Manny: “Sal, we only had two customers Monday.”
Sal: “Yeah.”
Manny: “And only one customer Tuesday.”
Sal: “Yeah.”
Manny: “Think it will go?”
Sal: “It should. It’s made of wood.”

I felt an odd disappointment that I couldn’t stare that old dump in the eye one more time and spit contempt at it. Then I realized how perfect the moment was. I had built a successful life in Charlotte, a new and beautiful city. I was doing what I loved, and I was holding a beautiful child who would not have to wash dishes, clean lobsters, sweep floors, and lie to a sheriff. We needed those plates. The nasty past was burned to the ground and I was holding my future.

“Where is your house daddy?” asked Landon.

I swung around and said “Across the street, sweetheart.”

“Oh, it’s pretty.” Landon said.

And it was. Someone had restored the little place and planted some colorful flowers throughout the front yard.

“Where was your room daddy?”

“On the right, Landon. Really, it was a closet that we used as my room. The house only had one bedroom and my mom and dad had that.”
Landon asked if she could sleep in her closet. I hugged her and said yes.

Over the next few years I would return to Connecticut now and then to visit friends, and drive by one or more of the houses I used to live in.

I was even invited into two of them by friendly people who happened to be working outside at the time of my drive-by. It was fascinating to see the house with the sunny little living room my grandmother held me in as a baby. The house where my birthday party with the pony was held. The house where the police came to demand my rock band stop practicing at two a.m.

My kids have all been on “Dad’s Old Home Tours,” and have slowly found much more stimulating things to do with their friends. I can’t blame them. They did their time, and got a feeling for my past.  Last year I took the tour alone for one day, and then picked up my friend Geoff and we drove to see the Red Sox play at Fenway. Every year that I go, I say it will be my last. I pronounce I am done searching the pentimento of a strange youth spent, but I know that is a lie.

Kristen is in my life now, and there are seafood joints to be introduced, rocky beaches to be walked, and old houses to be checked on.

This July we are staying for a night at the Old Lyme Inn, a charming spot in one of the most picturesque villages in all of New England. I can’t wait to show her the Revolutionary era buildings I used to race my bike by, to savor the cherrystone clams, and to listen for the voice of my father’s ghost telling me to pull a crate of lobsters out of the walk-in freezer.

Comments

[Lauren]

Bob, I do the same thing to my boys! I think it is mainly a nostalgia for my youth and the carefree days of no responsibility. I tell my boys so much about my childhood that I have heard them quizing each other on "Mom Trivia"!

[Fay]

Bob, there's nothing wrong with wanting to share your past with those that you love. My husband & I were both born & raised in Colchester,CT. We don't get back there much, but when we do, we tour the old houses that my husband lived in. I only have 1 old house up there & my mom still lives in it. We stay with her when we visit up there.

[Radiowoman]

Bob, I am enjoying your blog. You are a gifted writer. Keep em coming!

[Andrea]

Hey Bob...nice:) It makes me kinda sad to read it...I am blessed that I had only one childhood home...it is one that I will go to right after work to pick up my adorable children because my mom is watching them for me. I have good and bad memories of it, but who doesn't? Keep up the good work:) I LOVE listening to you and Sheri in the morning when I go to work.

[Barbara]

Bob - you are so lucky. Your children share these memories with you. They may not treasure them right now, but as adults they will. Love your writing. When are you going to pen a book like Sheri? You have a terrific way of writing. Very enjoyable to read.

[Beth]

Hi Bob,
I love your new blogs. Please keep them coming. My mom just sold the house I grew up in last year and I still drive by it and remember all the good and bad times that we had there. I still miss being able to stop in and go up to my room and just sit remember all the dreams I had as a young girl growing up there. Love the show.

[Beth]

Hi Bob,
I love your new blogs. Please keep them coming. My mom just sold the house I grew up in last year and I still drive by it and remember all the good and bad times that we had there. I still miss being able to stop in and go up to my room and just sit remember all the dreams I had as a young girl growing up there. Love the show.

[Tracy]

Bob-
Have you ever seen Mystic Pizza, which is set in Mystic, Conn.? If not, you must rent it, even if just to chuckle over the scene where Julia Roberts is invited to her beau's fancy-schmancy house and the servants bring out lobsters on silver trays for dinner. Julia's mom in the flick is a lobster boat captain, and their fridge at home is teeming with them every day, sparking comments like "Ugh-lobster AGAIN?" from everyone who cracks the fridge door. Your comments made me think of that moment---I wonder if you're able to view lobster as a delicacy today! Keep writing, Bob!

[Marj, The DMV Lady]

I only remember living in three places growing up, Shiloh NC, Washington DC and Arlington VA. My mom still lives in the house in Arlington (almost 53 years).
My earliest memories are of the house where we lived in NC. I remember events there, running away from home with my brother, sleeping with a spider the size of a dinner plate, swallows coming down the chimney in my room. Then I remember my Grammom's house. I remember smells there. The way her yard smelled - rich dark soil, mossy. Her bedroom - like violets and roses. And the attic - like the yard and my Grammoms room, com-bined. The house in Arlington is still fresh in my mind. From moving there before I started school to leaving for college and then getting married. Still fresh and easy to recall.
I wonder how my kids (all grown) will remember the places we lived, and my grandkids, where they lived. The days of living in the same place for 20 or 30 years is about gone. Too bad, those memories are fun, even ones that aren't too pleasant.

[Tiff]

Bob,

I grew up in a nice house in the country, we lived there until I was 15. When we moved, it wasn't far away... my parents built a house on a large piece of land and we moved about a mile down the road. I married in 2005, at 20 years old and thankfully my husband and I were able to purchase the home I grew up in from my parents. We have completely remodeled the inside... but it's still the house I remember. I think it will be great for my children to grow up in the same house where I did. Love the blog! I love listening to you and Sheri in the mornings!

[Lynne]

Hi Mr. Lacey,
Once again you have managed to amaze me! This blog of your's is one the best that I have read in a very long time. Keep up the great work...
My husband did the samething to me a few years after we got married. We went and he showed me around the old neighborhood he left in Keyser, WV, at age 7. I saw the place where he used to ride his bike on Water St, the old houses his family and grandparents lived in and we even went and bought bread from a local store to feed the ducks in the stream across from his old abode. I even saw where the old A&P his grandfather walked to daily used to be but is now a parking lot for the local funeral home.
Sometimes going home is a good thing. You gain perspective on what really matters and how far you have come in this life...

[Lynne]

Hi Mr. Lacey,
Once again you have managed to amaze me! This blog of your's is one the best that I have read in a very long time. Keep up the great work...
My husband did the samething to me a few years after we got married. We went and he showed me around the old neighborhood he left in Keyser, WV, at age 7. I saw the place where he used to ride his bike on Water St, the old houses his family and grandparents lived in and we even went and bought bread from a local store to feed the ducks in the stream across from his old abode. I even saw where the old A&P his grandfather walked to daily used to be but is now a parking lot for the local funeral home.
Sometimes going home is a good thing. You gain perspective on what really matters and how far you have come in this life...

[Annette]

Bob,

Thank you for sharing this memory. You're a wonderful writer, and I look forward to reading your future blogs.

[Tess]

"One day - at long last, I stumbled out of the woods of my own
and my families
and my Country's past
Holding in my hands these truths;

That Love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness,
That mongrels make good dogs, and the presence of God exists in the roundness of things.

This much, so far, I have figured out.

I know this much is true."

Thank you for sharing this very personal part of your life It is a beautiful memory to share, despite the saddness.

[Charlotte]

Bob, As I have said before, what a talented man you are! Your blogs are great and I look forward to each one as I do Sheri's. All of these years, I have watched you as a child on PM Magazine and as a budding adult and now a "mid-adult" listening to you every morning, you have been hiding this great writing talent of yours! Love you and Sheri every morning and wouldn't miss you for anything!
Charlotte

[Rita]

Bob, I am enjoying your blogs. This one rung true with me. My Dad used to bring my brother and I by his former homes and reminece. My Dad still lives in the only home that I lived in before I moved out and got married. My Mom passed away last year, so things are different now. But my kids get to spend lots of time in this wonderful house. The house was built by my Dad and my grandfather, so it has great sentiment. My brother will have the house when my Dad can no longer take care of it or passes away so it will stay in the family, hopefully for more generations. Great history and wonderful memories! Thanks for making me take stock in just how lucky I am!

[Jen]

I totally get this blog. I love it. I write so that I can see a picture of it in my mind. How great that you were able to recognize the moment you were in when you were standing in front of the old resturant. I have always liked you better then Sheri.

[Sarah W.]

Bob,
I am pleasantly surprised by your blog. You are a born writer and I hope it provides as much pleasure for you as it does for us.
Best,
Sarah

[Canadian Trudy]

Funny I chose to read this blog this morning because I did the "tour of old homes" this past weekend with my son who is just 7. He loves to hear stories of when he was a baby and to see the old house he was born in. My priest told a wonderful story on Sunday (Canada Day) about how we have become a greedy country compared to others. We as a society never have enough stuff and are not grateful for what we do have. So imagine how good I felt when my son turned to me after a nice drive and an ice cream and said "thanks for the fun weekend mom. You're a great mom". When I asked what his favorite part was he said "the stories....you smile a lot when you tell them". Will he feel that way in 6 years? Probably not. But for right now I get to be his hero.

[Piglet]

another goose-bump-raising story. seriously who knew you carried so much passion?

kudos to you and don't forget "writing can save your life" (a quote by augusten burroughs) and a damn correct one too.

[Catherine, the redhead]

Wow, great blog Bob. I like your writing style and laughed at your comment about visiting old homes = yours.
I'll add you to my blog links on my site.
Hope to see another poosting soon.
Catherine

[Sandy]

Well, Bob, our past is part of who we are today. Yours has been a "rich" one. The older I get the less I dislike the old stories my mom and dad told me when I was younger. I thought they were so boring at the time but they are my history. My kids laugh at the stories of my past and I hope one day they will look at them the way I look at my parents' stories. We are lucky to have the stories, the memories. Keep up the great blogs. I've been a fan of yours since PM Magazine and have listed to your radio show since day ONE! Love you and Sheri! Please don't ever quit the show because I won't know what to do with myself in the AM! P.S. If you write a book, they will come. . . . . . . . .

[Sandy]

Well, Bob, our past is part of who we are today. Yours has been a "rich" one. The older I get the less I dislike the old stories my mom and dad told me when I was younger. I thought they were so boring at the time but they are my history. My kids laugh at the stories of my past and I hope one day they will look at them the way I look at my parents' stories. We are lucky to have the stories, the memories. Keep up the great blogs. I've been a fan of yours since PM Magazine and have listed to your radio show since day ONE! Love you and Sheri! Please don't ever quit the show because I won't know what to do with myself in the AM! P.S. If you write a book, they will come. . . . . . . . .

[Ally]

enjoyed these words in particular..."The nasty past was burned to the ground and I was holding my future." Love you!
- Al

[Mike Naughton]

Bob,
What a great blog! I thought I was the only Dad doing old house tours! It's nice not to be alone! I took my youngest daughter (11) and her two cousins on a house tour in June following an outing to a Pittsburgh Pirates game. Since my daughter was born in South Carolina, she had never seen any of the houses. Fortunately for her sake house # 6 was 15 miles away so we only saw the first 5! (not counting the grandparents' homes).

Thanks for writing this one. I enjoyed it a lot!

Keep up the good work. I love listening to you guys in the morning in Columbia, SC, when I can get a signal.

Mike