Crossing Boundaries
by Beth Klarreich Corwin

It has been a week of observing boundaries. Here in Montauk, in my mind they are clearly different than those of people residing in East Hampton.

For the most part I love Montauk, the air, the beaches, the relaxed atmosphere. Sure, it too has gotten crazy from the too many people syndrome, but thank goodness there are still people who think that eleven miles on the stretch is too far of a stretch.

Anyway we had been invited to Main Beach in East Hampton on a beach perfectSunday. We accepted the offer because we liked our friends so much yet we didn’t really see the need to leave the beauty of Montauks own inviting beaches. Ah well, we had to cross the Nepeague for a prior commitment anyway, so what the heck.

Of course there was the parking issue but there was a simple solution. They picked us up, we left our car and we transferred all our beach stuff and they pulled right into the private parking lot. Wow, this was different already. At Ditch Plains you have to play the “visualize a parking spot game “ or drive around till one becomes vacant. Maybe I could get used to this!! After this we were able to change into our bathing suits in clean bathrooms. Next though was the biggest shock. Not only was it wall to wall people but the people themselves were quite different. Perhaps more polished would be the best way to describe it. I decided however that judging would serve me no good and that my goal was to enjoy myself with my family and friends. I began to relax. Ran down and into the water with our six and eight year old sons. Jumping the waves, splashing , proudly brave enough to make it to the sandbar. It was fun. As we were exiting the ocean and making our way back through the crowds to our sacred plot some sights and smells started those judgment bells ringing.

Why the hell are people wearing toxic perfume to a beach? Is that really cigar vapor drifting my way? My god this is the ocean people let’s be healthy. Enjoy the air don’t pollute it . Is that a ninety year old in a bikini? Does that man have a swollen colon or what? My mind was racing . What are those new suits people put their toddlers in? Styrofoam already secured inside the child's chest or rear? What are they thinking? Oh I get it maybe the parent really can sit back and relax and read if their children wear these. Of course, let the kids wander freely into an undertow. Styrofoam will certainly save them. Personal responsibility? Whatever happened to it? Blame the companies who make these suits not the parents who supervise.

I guess the cool ocean water didn’t cool me down enough. I took a drink of cold water to soothe my thoughts of judgment and settled into conversation with our friends, then moved onto a game of backgammon with my eight year old. All judgment ceased for a bit. I watched as my husband and six year old began one of their sand projects. These two artists don’t make any ordinary sand castles with buckets and shells. Oh no, they carve, mold and design the sand creating true masterpieces. After a good half hour of working they had sculpted a figure complete with arms, legs, head and carefully constructed torso. I love watching the joy they portray as they take a step back to admire their work. No gloating , just well deserved pride.

As I was admiring this whole scene from a distance, I saw a child who had been nearby during the building process POUNCE on the finished sand sculpture. I honestly was shocked, but not shocked enough to stop that mother bear instinct in me. I went running over to the child and said” Excuse me, that’s not okay. They’ve been working really hard on this. There’s a lot of sand on this beach . Jump somewhere else.”

He gave me a devilish look and then hopped away. My husband told me to calm down and repaired the damage. I took a deep breath . Another devilish child, no doubt related to devil #1 began ever so passively aggressively throwing sand onto the sculptures face. My husband saw both devil #2 and my heat rising and told me he would handle it. In other words indicating to me NOT to make a scene. Generally I am not a scene maker and my drama queen days are over so I began to relax. I saw my husband exchanging words with a maternal parental figure of the devils. Okay, I had faith in moms. Come on lady do something with your brats. She seemed to say something to devil #2 but I could tell he was up to attracting any kind of attention from his mom and here was an opportunity. Yep the devil managed to throw a few more handfuls of sand onto the figure before she dragged him five feet away.

I observed my son. He quietly brushed the sand off the sculpture and refined some edges. He was content. Why wasn’t I? Okay what was it my yoga instructor said yesterday. Oh yeah..let all situations provide opporunities. Then out of the corner of my eye devil #2 snuck over and did his little tossing sand thing again. OH NO ..sorry husband , sorry yoga teacher.......I came storming over and actually touched the child. Not a grab, not a tender shoulder touch but a firm grasp looking him firmly in the eyes and saying something like”Listen pal, I mean business. Keep your hands and other sand off their work.” Well I’m not sure who I scared most, him or me. Oh my god I touched someone else's child. Who saw this? How bad was it? I managed to sit back down and my friend gently said, “ Do you realize you touched him?” I felt like a big fool and admitted my error.

She agreed that this whole scene was too much and we both talked about how our children would NEVER engage in that sort of behavior. My husband shot me the warning look also and then the paternal figurehead of both devils got involved in conversation with my husband. Clearly I was too emotional to stay focused on this. Let’s see, start appreciating....ah yes the ocean, the air, my friends.

Well the best is yet to come. I know nature does end up releasing sand works of art on her own time. This did start happening. Tide was coming in, sand figure was breaking down. However there was still a bit more of the sand structure to break down when the devil family attracted some friends. Perhaps these friends had been unaware of the whole sand construction process or perhaps they were cohorts in crime. As the friends approached the devil family, loudly exchanging double cheek kisses, guess where their feet landed? Yep, friends and devils were now completely stomping on the once amazing structure.

I looked on as my son and husband were okay with it. The damage was done. I started to look the other way when there were the devil kids glaring their impish grins in my direction. YUCK. Okay time to pack up I thought. Their grins had brought the cool breeze to my face. I began to collect everything when my friend’s husband informed me that our beach chair he had sat in had broken. Broken chair, bruised spirit. Next nice beach day I think I’ll stay in Montauk, walk to the beach and just sit on a plain old towel.