Naaauuuussset

posted Friday, 22 May 2009

Back in the day, I went to Harwich High School on Cape Cod. Our bitter rival - as bitter as it can get between two schools with a cumulative headcount of 800 students - was Nauset High School, one town over. We were not the most creative of rivals, either - our taunts at basketball games were limited to dragging out the word 'Nauset' over 10 seconds: Naaaaauusssset...YOU SUCK!

A few years ago, I learned from a boy I used to babysit that this chant has not changed. So much for the future of today's youth.

I was reminded of Nauset and of high school a few times this weekend, though, as well as of a couple of other fertile memories from days gone by on Old Cape Cod. Back on the peninsula for the weekend, ArcherVision and I first made a trek out to Nauset Beach in Orleans and Wychmere Harbor in Harwich, to shoot some footage with Del Padre Digital's new RED camera and test a camera bag for Studio Monthly magazine. AVision did the shooting and wrote the review; I schlepped the bag and took the photos. Here's one I'm relatively sure they won't use:

We made a few stops at some favorite spots, too - the Yard Arm for lunch, the Clothes Den for deals, and the 400 for dinner. Then, it was on to a benefit concert for a high school friend of mine who passed away in February. Some local musicians joined forces to raise funds for her 11-year-old son, and it was nice that something positive could come out of a dark moment.

Those of you who've read The Jump for a while, or who've read the About section, or who just know me a little in general, know that I'm a musician who actively paid for rent and college as a singer and violinist in the nineties - a time when the Cape Cod music scene was rockin'. As such, I have a lot of friends from this period in my life, too (the twenties, oh how quickly they raced by). That said, there was quite a mash-up of people from the past at the benefit. High school friends, music friends, people whose kids I used to babysit for, those kids (some taller than me now), and plenty of people I spent long nights with after gigs, talking, laughing, and making mischief.

The thing is, I left the Cape more than a decade ago, and I haven't seen a lot of these people since, if not longer. Plus, Facebook negates all of those basic questions people used to ask - what you do, where you live...it's all there on your profile page, so the result is a sort of awkward groping for new topics to discuss with people whose lives, like mine, are completely different now.

But the point is, I have been gone so long that I definitely had a feeling of 'you can't go home again' that was bittersweet. On one hand, I am glad that I'm not 19 anymore. I was skinny, but I was also, well, 19. On the other hand, in many ways these were the best days of my life, so far. And on a third, proverbial hand, I also felt a little like it was impossible for some of my old friends to even understand where I've been, what I've done, and who I've become. Granted, I've still got a long way to go, but I'm certainly not 19 anymore.

As I've had a week to think about it in between events and meetings, I have come to the conclusion that this is one of those times that gives the Sieve of Life a little shake. Some people fall through and disappear into the silt. Others emerge after being hidden away, little golden nuggets. And I'm kneeling by the river, watching it all go by.

That rival chant at the Harwich-Nauset basketball games, though, I don't know what that is. Maybe it's an annoying pebble that gets stuck in the sifter. Or, if you're sick of that metaphor, maybe it's just one of those things about the Cape that I should learn to love - because it's one thing that hasn't changed.

1998: