It Tastes like Seltzer

I first heard about Saratoga Springs from my grandfather. He would return from his trips upstate with enormous jugs of the town’s sulfur-scented natural spring water. Though I never developed a taste for the funky water like my grandfather, I was also drawn to Saratoga Springs, particularly, Skidmore College.

            I couldn’t help relaying this story to my five-year old son, Jesse, along with my wife and 14-month-old daughter, who were accompanying me to my 20-year college reunion. Very excited to try the “yucky water,” Jesse buckled himself into his car seat and off we drove up the New York Thruway, the citrusy sun setting over the Catskill Mountains.

            College was the place where I learned how to write. It was where I became more independent, more mature, and where I drank more beer than ever before. Yet it was the connections I made with my peers that was luring me back to this place with its deja vu jumble of memories and images.

What a thrill it was to show my family the college campus, the English department. We made sure to buy school swag at the Skidmore Shop and meet the school mascot, Skids Scribner. In town, I introduced them to the homemade jam at Country Corner. We drove past three different springs of “yucky water,” but didn’t taste it just yet.

            At night, it felt even more like stepping back in time. There I was, back at Gaffney’s on Caroline Street, drinking Amstel Light with the same people, staying up late. It was all so familiar, our conversations as natural as the springs themselves. There wasn’t any awkwardness, no agenda, no effort. I don’t even remember anyone looking at their phones; we were all so engaged in conversation. It was as if everyone felt the same way, all 100 alumni who came from our graduating class. As if we were experiencing that unique moment in time when the government lockdown for COVID was lifted, the joy of reconnection comforting us like a warm embrace.

We all know that familiar feeling of talking to a friend you haven’t seen in a long time, yet it feels like yesterday. What was unique about this weekend is that this same feeling was there but was tied to a group of people. To a specific time and place. Friends are the family you choose, and there’s nothing like a close friend. Yet it didn’t matter if you were speaking to one of your closest friends, an acquaintance, or even someone you just met. All the bonds felt deeper.

The experience made me reflect on the value of connection. We get so busy with our lives that we too often overlook the benefits of person-to-person connection. Or maybe it’s that we’re so wrapped up in our obligations and technology that we need a reminder of the value of a simple chat with a friend. Or perhaps it’s our capitalist society that succeeds too often in persuading us to focus on feeding our bank accounts instead of nourishing our souls.

Sunday morning, with a hangover that felt strangely comforting, my family and I finally made it to one of the springs. “It tastes like seltzer!” Jesse proclaimed, sticking his mouth under the faucet until we had to pull him away. “I can’t wait to come back and fill up a bottle!”

As we drove down the Thruway, the Catskills shrinking in my rearview mirror, I felt a smile forming on my face, grateful I could simply enjoy the company of others, even for a brief moment in time.