« In My Defense | Main | The Friday Quiz: The Squirrel's Nest »

Notes on a Week in Cape May

  • Dolphins, even viewed from the shore at a distance that renders their presence more a matter of finny silhouttes appearing and disappearing above the waves, are nice things to see.
  • When using your precious few minutes out at night to enjoy a moonlit stroll by the sea with the love of your life, try not to be too put off by the enormous John Deere tractor that roars up and down the beach, dragging an equally enormous terrain-flattening, cigarrette-but scooping attachment designed to rake the unruly sands into salt-flat-esque smoothness. Also: get the hell out of the way.
  • "Beach Tag Inspector" is, apparently, a real occupation.
  • The kind of person who buys, furnishes, and rents out a beach house is the kind of person who will see nothing wrong with purchasing a faux-weathered set of wooden letters spelling out "BEACH" and putting them up on the mantel in the living room, just in case anybody might forget and think they were in the mountains or Paris or something.
  • The communal gasp that occurs when a mosquito is flattened, with the appropriately dramatic smear of your fellow-vacationers' blood upon your leg or shoulder (or, even more dramatic, your face), is both a bit embarrassing and also kind of satisfying to hear.
  • Orange sherbet-flavored frozen custard is a noxious substance which can be consumed in stunningly large quantities by small children.
  • The Cold War has some very peculiar relics.
  • There's no tantrum like the "we have to leave the amusement park now" tantrum.
  • Sometimes, after you've whined for an entire week about the weather forecast for your beach vacation being another example of how you're completely cursed and every single freaking time you take off of work the weather turns to crap and look at this ten-day, do you see how we're not even getting a single day that's going to be good for going outside, sometimes the gods like to punish you for your Eyeore-like moaning and shame you with a full week of effulgent, sun-kissed days and surf just cool enough to feel refreshing. And then you feel like a bit of a schmuck.

Thanks for asking!

Comments

In re the beach-cleaning machine: you are familiar with Randy Newman's "Lucinda," yes?


Post a comment

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)