"All glory comes from daring to begin." Eugene F. Ware

Everything is magical when it’s new. That new car smell... until your kids have McDonalds in the backseat and scatter fries under the floor mats. Those new shoes you thought were so cute and comfortable... until they left you blistered after only one night out in Manhattan. That new jacket that you wear every day... until someone calls you out on it.  That new relationship that gave you butterflies... until you’re doing twice as much laundry and dishes. (So I’ve heard...)

Every new beginning has an “until” but that will have to come into play later as Long Beach still has that “new” magic.

The first thing we experienced in our first week on the island was the eery feeling that everyone is extremely nice. I remember being a kid in Arkansas, walking down the street and a stranger waved at me. It was shocking. This is the same experience. I say eerie because it’s a forgotten feeling having lived three years in Hoboken. Case-and-point was the small cop with the big attitude that wanted to write me a ticket on moving day.

We met the entire Maryland Ave block the second we stepped out of the moving truck. Everyone was gathered in the streets, as if it were a block-party, chatting with one another when we arrived and they continued chatting well into the night. We met Mike and Andrea, the school teachers who live below us who have two adorable small children. One of which, Blake, asked if he could ride Bob as if he were a rented pony.( Not a bad idea if we get strapped for cash). We met Rich and Caroline who live to the right of us, who also have young kids and two dogs, one of which is a bulldog with a large under-bite named Penelope. There were others whose names that I don’t remember as I’m terrible with such things, so I use nicknames whenever I get the opportunity, like Fire Marshal Bill who lives across the street and works for the NYFD.

We had rarely met any of our neighbors in Hoboken throughout the years so this was a first for us. We embraced it cautiously as every up has to have a down...

It seemed a common theme as we continued to meet people all throughout the island. I received free breakfast one morning as I was getting coffee and the cashier noticed I was new to the neighborhood. She introduced herself, gave me my coffee for free and threw in free danishes for me and “my husband”. On our first Sunday Funday, we didn’t yet have cable, so we headed down to The Inn- a sports bar on Tennessee Ave, two short blocks away. We met Anthony the bartender. By the end of the amazing first Jets game of the season, we were hugging people we’d never seen before, drinking with the owner (whom Anthony had introduced the newbies to) and heading home with a $22.00 beer tab. If anyone thinks we only drank $22 in beers, then we obviously haven’t met yet... We had  hit the jackpot.

Later in the week, I discovered The Cabana. Not really a fan of Mexican food while I lived in San Diego ( I know, an unspeakable crime! ); I had adopted a requirement of Mexican food in my weekly diet since moving to New York. The Cabana and it’s $1 Taco Tuesdays was like water in a desert oasis. I couldn’t ask for anything better. We’ve been to the Cabana more often then the local grocery store and by the second trip we were making friends, and once again drinking (surprise, surprise), with the owner, Bob.

We've been making friends left and right. I met the bartender for the local pub, Speakeasy, on a train trip home from the city and ran into him one night at the Cabana where he bought Trav and I a round of the Long Beach famous Pumpkin Ale draft beer rimmed with cinnamon- a fall must-have! This place is amazing.

We were thoroughly enjoying our first week in Long Beach. We have quickly adapted to our new routine which consists of being woken up every morning by a very excited Bob-O. We all pile into the car and drive Trav to his early morning train to Penn Station. Bob & I head across the street & park on the East End of town. Our early morning long walks are much more enjoyable on this side of town as homes are more spread out with lots of trees and grass then where we live on the West End. We love our peaceful walks before the island wakes up. I had forgotten what it was like to not have to continuously cross the street to avoid rude people and unassuming dogs. Ok, I'll try to stop ragging on Hoboken.

Every other day, before the weather turned, after driving back to the West End, Bob and I would take a quick trip to the beach, at the end of our block to play fetch and swim in the waves. Equipped with a towel & puppy shampoo, I'd give him a quick bath with the free hose at the base of the beach and be home before the sun rose. We'd then have coffee, or at least I would while Bob passed out, on the deck. A fantastic way to start the day.

Around 9, I drive to the train for a long but enjoyable commute back to hell, I mean Hoboken, for work & am back to my car by 4. Before the chill set in last week, I would hurry to walk Bob before hitting the beach one more time before I picked Trav up from the train. On our luckiest days, Trav & I would grab a cigar for him & a beer for me & we'd head to the beach yet again to let our bad days in the city sail out to sea.

It was on one of these fantastic days when it seemed the magic had come to an end and my "until" had finally come and interrupted my "new" magic.

It was a Thursday and I had gotten off the train on a particularly sunny day and was rushing to the side streets to retrieve my car, get home to quickly walk Bob, and get to the beach as soon as possible. I had just met James, the neighborhood bartender who advised he also parks on side streets before catching the train but hides his keys in his gas-tank, a surfer trick. I barely left the door unlocked while I was home, so this was a habit way too risky for me.

As we parted ways, I fumbled for my own car keys, praying I hadn't lost them as I pulled out my trusty smart-phone to see the marked location where I had previously, intelligently, marked my parking spot in google maps, by "dropping a pin" where I had parked before rushing to catch the train. I followed the directions across Park Ave and down Edwards. The pin showed it was right here on West Olive & yep, this black jeep looked perfectly familiar.. Only, that wasn't my car now parked in front of it. Panic set in as I briefly told my dad about the current events & hung up the phone. I stood in the middle of the street dumbfounded & looked all around me, hoping to recognize my car.  It was gone.

I knew it! Everyone loves their new place UNTIL their car gets towed, or worse.. Stolen! I walked up and down West Olive for a mile. No car. I even went back to where my trusty map showed me parked and decided to knock on the door of the house I had parked in front of.

"Ummm excuse me.." I started to say, when the gentleman opened the door. "First, I'm really sorry if I did this, but did I possibly park blocking your driveway & as a result, did you have me towed?" his immediate response was "no way! People don't do that here". That was the second time I had heard this today on this new quest. "So could it be stolen"? I asked with the wind seeping out of my I love this place! sails. He quickly replied "that doesn't happen here either. Maybe you lost it.."

Now, being a female, maybe some of you would take offense to this supposed stereo-type. But if you were one of my lucky friends who were called on once a semester during my college days at SDSU to drive me through the parking structure to find the car earlier parked by yours truly, then you really can't blame the guy & either did I. But looky here, this was the new & improved Sarah as I showed him my proactively & diligently placed google maps "pin". Hmmm-the confusion continued as he was the second person to point me in the direction of the police department. With my tail between my legs, I walked back towards the train station to file a missing car report.

When I arrived at LBPD, I was quickly helped by the dispatcher and advised her, deflated, that my new bubble had been popped & my car was either towed or stolen. She quickly said she doubted that, of course with a smile. She quickly checked her log, nope no cars had been towed that week (I'll avoid the obvious opening to again point out the cavernous difference from Hoboken) and asked me if I wanted to report it stolen but ended with "that doesn't happen here". Again I heard , "are you sure you know where you parked it" & I again held up my pin which at this point was doing a fantastic job of counter-acting the blonde hair in response to the repeated question.

I told her I'd look for it one more time before going that route & with hunched shoulders left the station. There were two cops shooting the breeze out front & I was surprised to hear "aww honey, what's wrong? Why do you look so sad?" as I headed down the block. I turned and told them the story, leading with, "I know what this looks like but..." and ending with holding up the now infamous pin on my phone. One of the cops jumped in his car & pulled up the computer screen. He asked me if the car was mine, umm no (it was Trav's), and if I had the registration on me, um no again (it was in the car) or if I had the license plate number.. Umm strike three.. No. But Trav knew it by heart so I acquired that info with a simple phone call. Well, telling someone you need the license plate number of their car because you either had it it towed or stolen wasn't that simple.. The cop entered it into the system and told me they had a plate-reader car that drove the streets logging plates into a system. They would run the plates & see where it was the last time the plates were read. Amazing! With a smile, he told me to wait in the air-conditioned office while he went to look for my car! Where was I? This was surreal.

When he came back minutes later, I jumped up when he said he'd found it for me. It hadn't been towed, it hadn't been stolen and hadn't been on West Olive either. It was parked where I left it a few blocks south on West Beech St. Oops. So much for my smart-phone! He smiled, listened to me profusely apologizing for wasting his time, then lied & said it happens all the time.

Awesome.. my "until" was still yet to be discovered.