My buddy Lake George,
I love you.

I love the time, as teens, we were jumping from your cliffs deep in the woods when a monk full in robe ran us off God's Property.

I love that in those days, Hassan could skate like a pro and lived in a converted church with secret passages.

I love that my Dad is so proud of the rooflines and Ipe wood decks of your Millionaire's summer getaways, and his vista, beyond which even the owners will never get to see.

I love you Lake George because your water is so clear and clean that it was long drank without chemical filtration.

I love you despite killing all those poor old people when the tour boat sank.

I love you the way Abraham Lincoln loved you when he said you were the most beautiful sight in all the world.

I love that I can stand inside your perfect circle, where I used to skate, and feel my voice resonate and vibrate inside my own brain.

I love Fort William Henry which is just a nice reproduction as the original was burned to the ground...the cannons sure sound real.

I loved you when we stole the bench seat from the million-dollar mile shop, spraypainted and abused it for months and returned it to its home.

I loved you every time in high school when we jumped the fence at the fallen tree in the woods behind Great Escape, and when we lied and stole and cheated all the games and rides and food vendors. I hope you can forgive me this, it was done with genuine love.

I loved you Lake George when you had a genuine Pool Hall, and we could play billiards for hours at a reasonable price. 

I love you for Capri pizza and the best stromboli in the East.

I loved the hours playing beach volleyball, playing in the arcade (digging for coins), playing with tourist girls.

I loved the summer job at Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe and the terrible bagpipe player outside my window.
I love your fireworks.

Thank you Lake George. I love you.

-C