Lindsey Cocktail

Manhatten on the Rocks

Way back when billions of dollars were being cast into our south of NYC MIC R&D environment…there was a little hotel up the street from the house my parents got cheap after a massive storm, and the JFK deselection. Take your pick which one had more to do to the then seven of us escaping the two bed one bath at the blinking light intersection of Ridge and River to 83 Waterman, named for the inventor of the fountain pen, or at least some patents.

The hotel had been floated from the barrier island, as had some of the homes on Waterman, long before we got there in the spring of 1964. The shore had seen better days. Rising sea levels and severe storms, The Great Depression, and an addiction to MIC spending made peace time not so lucrative. Lucky for the county there was always a conflict somewhere that required better and more of whatever they had created anywhere to be engineered and contracted out from here.

The bartender at the hotel told this joke about Lindsey, as this place was no fan of the city. The locals had long been crapped on by the Empire state. They burned and dumped the five boroughs trash right off our shoreline. This was not Newport, or the Hamptons…there was no one from NYC getting their ass kissed in this hotel bar, ever.

We shared chowder, and a coastal defense system, which had all the latest gadgets, rockets, as well as thousands of engineers and scientists from all over the planet involved in the process.

This is the place from which RV Bowser sailed from.