Vacation Post: Wrap Up

(Originally written 7/22/8)

Aw right, I’ve had parts of Vacation posts rattling about in my head for weeks now. I’ve tried to work them out where they can be good, funny posts. But alas, after weeks of half baked ideas, they have just turned out to be just that; half assed. I have just run out of steam. And I know the Vacation posts have been long (fucking 10 pages about vacationing with kids!?) and maybe not as funny as you and me would like. I guess they were more just to write to convey about what I was seeing and feeling. So if they were too self indulgent or not funny or a waste of your time, I do apologize. I know we’re all here just to laugh.

Instead of trying to belabor these Vacation posts, I’ve decided just to blow them out as it were. They’re not good enough for an entire post, but maybe good enough just to toss in. Plus it wraps these posts up, and allows me to get onto to other (hopefully funnier) posts. So here we go, in random variety order…

Why do kids love to dig at the beach? It’s like they become solely focused on just digging as much as they can. I doubt these kids just shovel up the lawn for shits and giggles at home, so why does it become an obsession at the shore? As I walked and ran on the beach, I saw dozens of little rugrats digging like their life depended on it. And the parents are getting into it as well. I saw many real shovels as well. Yea, like the kind you can buy at Home Depot. Shit, these parents come prepared these days. Not only do you have to throw everything in the car, now you have to bring your own landscaping tools.

There’s a new beach game I saw sprout up this year. There are what look like 2 drying racks. And you have 2 balls tied together. The rack has 3 rungs, and I guess you score more depending where the balls land. To me, it looked like you were throwing testicles. I saw a lotta people doing that. But I would have a hard time throwing what look like bull testicles at the beach.

4th of July on the beach was way cool. We decided to stay at the house and watch from there. Apparently, police were handing out flyers saying anyone caught setting off fireworks on the beach would be fined like $1000. So you just knew, as the real fireworks started going off, so did the “illegal” ones on the beach. Up north, fireworks would go off, and you see 2 cops on ATVs race up the beach. As soon as they got up there, “illegal” fireworks went off further down south. Sure enough, there’s the 2 lights now racing down the beach. This just went on and on, and for some reason just cracked me up. Hell, if I was the beach cops, I wouldn’t be busting my ass to catch these firework crooks. Regardless, it was cool to see fireworks lighting up the ocean. Remember how I was busting on the papa-razzi at the amusement park? You should see me totally tooling out and trying to take pictures of fireworks. I think I ended up taking like 30, 25 of which were pretty much shit. I blame the beer.

While walking by myself on the beach, I had an odd experience. There I was, immersed in my SummerSongs and everything that is the beach, staring out at the ocean and the seeming edge of the world. I found myself just really inspired to write. Maybe about what I was seeing, what I was doing, but I wasn’t just mindlessly “being” at the beach; I found myself really wanting to do something else. I noted it as some kind of sign, something that I should actively pursue. You can see I got a ton of stuff from the vacation to write about (and OK, not all of it was great or funny), and maybe I should be a bit more passionate about it. I have been low on passion for months now.

I guess you can kinda add this to the Vacationing With Kids post. So kinda add this to that, yo. They were checking beach tags on the beach (duh) and all ours were already at the beach. So it was pretty much me, my mother in law and my brother in law. My BIL was in and out, so at the time it was pretty much just me on the main floor with the main TV. The main TV that has On Demand. Newsflash; I am poor and don’t have this service at mi casa. So it took me a while to figger out. I got to the free movies section. Seeing as how all was calm, I went to the horror section. I quickly came across Hostel. I heard good things about this flick, and it’s supposed to be gritty and gory. Again, seeing as how all the kids were gone, and it was a few straggler adults, I felt empowered. It was the most violent, adult thing I could find. So I put the SOB on. I looked to the deck to see my mother in law firmly immersed in…well, whatever the fuck. The point is that she was immersed, and the coast was clear.

Fuck the luck. I get about 10 minutes in. The movie is not gory yet at all. However, we are at a point where the one guy (which is what you always call the secondary male character at this point in most movies) is going through his camera phone showing all kinds of naked chicks. My Buffalo BIL is in silent agreement on the back about how much this movie rocks. Then, much like one of the 4 young girls, I hear the deck door slide open. Shit, my mother in law is coming in. Goddamn it. You have got to be kidding me. I am toast. Even pig headed as I am, I know there is no point to continue. In the vain hope that the possibility might still exist at some point in the fading 12 more hours, I manage to save the movie.

OK, so she’s mulling about, so I scroll through the movies again. I find the directors cut of the original Robocop. Great summertime, popcorn movie. I feel this is a decided compromise, so I put it on. Sure, for it’s time it was a bit gory, but it can’t hold up to current times, can it? My MIL sits in the easy chair next to my loafing ass in the couch. So the movie goes on for a bit, and I can see it will start to get violent soon. Red from That 70’s Show is looking to kill poor future Robocop guy. I recall from that time, that this scene is kinda violent. I ask my MIL “I think it’s gonna kinda get violent here. Is there something else you would like to watch? Perhaps some sort of judge show? They seem to be all the rage this point of the day.” She says no. Again, I feel the need to tell here that it will get bloody. “No, seriously, I think it’s gonna get ugly here. I don’t need to watch this. Is there something you would like to watch?”

“No,” she answers, “it won’t bother me. I will just close my eyes.” Fuck, if I had a nickel for every time her daughter told me that. OK, game on. No kids in sight, and I have basically pleaded with her not to watch. If she wants to, she better close here eyes for this next part. I can’t even look at her. It’s such a release to watch something that isn’t a ‘Wiggle’ or a ‘Jonas’ on the screen, I am enthralled. She seems not to be disturbed, so we keep going with the movie.

We get to the part where there are 2 hooligans (who kind of look like yours truly) and they get a hold of a girl. Robo gets on the scene. He wants to shoot, but hooligan #1 puts the damsel in distress right in front of him. Robocop scans the scene and sees a weakness. The girl has her skirted legs open, so he shoots through her legs. Right into the guys nuts. At this point, my MIL lets out a heretofore unheard of evil laugh.

It was so out of character. The whole time I was worried about offending her. And here we come to a scene where a guy gets shot in the nads, and she’s fucking laughing. It didn’t take me too much longer to shut the movie off. But not before saving it. So I still wonder if the next people who rent the house see the saved movies and think we were a bunch of sick fucks. Actually that would be kind of cool. I should have thought it out more, and saved the most sick movies I could find.

(Mood change) I still felt a bit shallow staying there. Here I am, at the place I love the most, and felt like it was a tease. Goddamn, one day, I would love for us to retire at the beach. Get a house that can see the sunrise or sunset. Hear the ocean. The dichotomy (there’s that word again) was I was at a place that one day I yearn to live, but for the last year have made very little moves to make that a reality. It’s like tasting the best rum ever, but just one sip, and who dafuck knows when you will ever get that chance again. It was such a tease. It was great to live that life for a week, but still a bit defeating.

(All right, I am going to wrap this shit up. BTW, I have been buzzogging the last half of this post.)

Irony again shines down upon me in the middle of the night. I need to dig up the Vacation 2007 posts to properly put this in perspective. So there I was. The 4th of July gave way to the 5th. It was raining pretty heavily on the beach. I guess it was 1 or 2 AM. Everyone else went to bed. There I was, last man standing on the last night I might ever be in Ocean City, NJ. A storm crashing all around me. Ironic because this is pretty much how I ended my last real vacation in OCMD.


In 2007 circumstances dictated we leave a day early, and it just crushed us. What I vividly recall from that Last Night on Earth was everyone went to bed. It was just me on the pier jutting into the bay. There was a storm rolling in from the north. It wasn’t raining. But I clearly recall seeing orange thunder rolling in against a dark blue sky. I remember the local a few houses up watching it roll in, too. Eventually, he went in-hell, he sees this shit all the time. But I stared, mesmerized. How so ironic, at a bonus week right on the beach, it’s just me. The beach, the rain. I am sure there is some sort of major message there, but fuck if I can figure it out. Maybe you can tell me.

(Sappy ending, then I can go to bed) All in all it was a good week. I learned some stuff about me; parts I knew, parts I didn’t. I learned that no matter how much chaos is awaiting me, the beach and ocean can always calm me down and fix me and make me better. I saw that it took 4 little girls to get me to the beach, and that’s the most time I’ve spent on the beach in years. I learned there is NOTHING BETTER FOR ME than time at the beach/bay. I learned T is just a big kid, too. I learned Mario & Liugi will always be special friends of mine. I learned I need to grow the fuck up in some areas. I got some truly killer pictures (which you can see as well). I felt that writing is probably something I should pursue a bit more. This trip reinforced how much I miss adult vacations with A&J and how much I miss them in general. I learned how fucking out of shape I am to run on the beach, but I can still drink like a fish. Music can also be so key and powerful; it really can be your own soundtrack to life. I missed Bauer more than I should. I know I wouldn’t trade those times with T on the beach for anything-they are my most cherished and vividly clear memories I have. I can see us flinging the lacrosse ball in the surf. I can see us kicking the ball and me silently hoping to not pull a Charlie Brown. I can see the sun in the sky. I can see us chasing the ball like a bunch of motards.

Awright, this wraps it up. Thank you so much for reading all this. And yes, I heave learned my lesson. You and I want to see more funny shit here. I agree. I think this gets all the sappiness out of me. I mean, let’s face it, who wants to see a happy Kevolution Theory? Happiness is boring. Bitterness is funny. So please come back soon to see all the vile. Peace out, mother fuckers.