Every summer thousands of people flock to the shore. Every Memorial Day, Fourth of July and Labor Day they load up the family truckster and head to the beach. All through the heat of May – Sept, there is a steady stream of vacationers, day trippers and sun worshippers. They go to brush sand from their feet, eat expensive substandard boardwalk pizza, smack at attacking greenheads and sit in traffic.
I don’t get it. Although I have spent time on the beach throughout my life, I’ve never really gotten the allure. I actually think I’m in the minority on this one, but that doesn’t make me scratch my head any less. It’s been almost two years since I’ve been on a beach for more than an hour, and I’m just fine with that.
Everything like this is tainted by perspective or maybe tolerance, and I think I’m lucky enough to not really need an escape (most of the time). However, that doesn’t lessen my wonderment about the draw of lying on a crowded patch of dirt while salt from the water and blowing sand borrows into all possible crevices. Depending on the town you visit, this salty dirt is actually so closely packed with blankets, towels and giant umbrellas that it’s virtually impossible to walk through. Really? I don’t like people enough to walk through a mall for a half hour. Why in Hell would I want to spend my day sweating in the sun two feet from strangers on all sides?
“But Pete, we love to frolic in the surf. It’s so refreshing and fun.” Bite me. Refreshing…maybe. The average water temp in Atlantic City this past summer was under 70 deg. Folks, that’s just plain cold. I don’t shy away from chilly water too often, but that doesn’t sound too enjoyable. And the surf, come on. Being in the water shouldn’t need to be so much work. Isn’t being constantly bludgeoned by unstoppable walls of water just one sign that Mother Nature doesn’t want you in her water? How about sharks, jellyfish, rip tides? I can’t believe you can even go near the ocean without signing a waiver of liability. And on top of all that, at least in New Jersey, you have to PAY for the privilege. I know that falls under a different heading of complaint, but it’s just one more reason for my disdain.
It seems the growing bane of my existence is traffic. Living in the most densely populated state comes with the caveat of having to sit in traffic now and then. However, I don’t think it needs to be a prerequisite for spending leisure time. I fight the river of cars enough commuting to work. There is generally some traffic backup at any time and place when I’m heading out of the house, but there’s always the chance I could get lucky and reach my destination without it. Unfortunately, going to the shore at virtually any time ensures a stint in automotive hell. Nothing like starting a “relaxing” day by sitting still on the Expressway for an hour. And I like only 40 miles from the ocean. Anyone making the trip from beyond that is just insane…my opinion, of course.
So you’ve decided not to heed my advice. You made the arduous trek and find yourself in one of the shore towns. Now you only have to contend with hundreds of yards of scalding hot dirt. You heard right. Time to broil your feet on sand that had been baking in the sun all day while you find that perfect spot on which to lay your blanket (so you don’t have to touch the dirt), put up your massive umbrella (so you don’t have to have the sun beat on you), get your cooler situated (so you don’t have to go far for a drink) and maybe unfold your beach chair (see above about touching the dirt). Sounds like you just did your best to set up your living room, but at an inconvenient spot miles from home.
Enjoy your summer going to and from the beach. I’m sure you will. I shall opt to stay at home, hanging on my deck with some gin and a Cohiba. If it gets hot, I’ll walk the ten feet to my fridge and get a drink and a freeze pop and hang out in the AC for a few minutes.
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