Beach – Regular Guy

Another Bethany Success

brian — Tue, 15 Jul 2014 10:55:44 +0000

The signs that we would have a fantastic beach week with my family started early.

First of all, we saw something we have not seen in ages on our ride down to the Delaware shore – the absence of lines at the Bay Bridge toll plaza. I almost didn’t know what to do when I had the opportunity to drive right up and pay my toll.

We have tried a number of different strategies to try and beat the bridge traffic, all of them abject failures. We just had an abundance of good fortune this time.

Then, we had very few delays along the way. We had a little stop-and-go in a few familiar places, but nothing that really put us behind schedule.

Finally, we had smooth sailing on an alternate route laid out by my brother-in-law to help us avoid construction on the main road leading to our destination.

Since any week at the beach with my family ranks as a good beach week, I saw all these small moments as evidence that we might write a few pages in the family history this time around.

We had much of the same fun as we have had other years. We played the family cornhole tournament, albeit with a smaller field due to some scheduling conflicts. We sat around and talked as long as we could on the beach. We ate a whole mess of crabs one night, so many that the place where my sister buys them informed her that we are the largest order they have to fill all summer.

And all of this on a somewhat down year since some folks could not come down due to my niece’s wedding, which took place on the final day of our vacation. We stayed the whole time at our rental and changed at my sister’s before heading to the ceremony. That’s beach week dedication.

While we did all of those usual things, we also created some new memories.

For the second straight year, a heavy rainstorm flooded the street in front of one of the houses where my sister and her family were staying. That meant we had another opportunity to get the kayaks out from her rental house and patrol the flooded street.

I didn’t take part this year, but to see my nieces and nephews paddling down a residential street once again made me pretty happy.

We also got a chance to mess with one of the lifeguards on the beach, a new family activity. After we saw him input his phone number into the cell phones of multiple attractive young ladies, we sent two of my elementary-school age great nieces to see if they could get his digits. He liked knowing that he was playing to an appreciative crowd.

In the end, however, it’s not about those momentary jokes or how to deal with a quick rainstorm. Beach week means hours sitting on a beach chair with the people who know you best, sharing stories, trading gossip or putting food and other assorted items on the heads of those who fall asleep on their beach towel so someone else can take a picture and put it on Facebook for all the world to see.

That’s what makes vacation with family so special.

Umbrella Wars

brian — Mon, 22 Jul 2013 16:48:55 +0000

Everyone should have the chance to enjoy their vacation how they please. However, the week I just spent at the beach with my family convinced me that more and more people should hire us as vacation planners.

For instance, we would strongly urge you to resist the temptation to buy one of those large umbrellas you see at the store. Sure, you might think that the purchase will save you money over renting an umbrella from those folks who sit at the top of the beach.

Saving money doesn’t always make the most sense sometimes. This is one of those important instances.

Through hours of research which required me to sit underneath an umbrella on the beach, I have determined that the ones you buy in store simply don’t have the strength to handle the kinds of winds you might encounter at the beach.

All it takes is one big gust to turn the store-bought umbrellas inside out or, worse yet, send them flying across the beach. Meanwhile, our rentals, which are made of a strong canvas cloth, keep us safe and secure in almost any wind.

We have also discovered another important distinction which makes the rental umbrellas far superior to something you buy in a store. I don’t just rent an umbrella when I hand over the cash I get the services of a young person who will put it up in the morning and take it down in the afternoon.

Sure, this means I have to live by the schedule of the rental company, but I am fine with losing my umbrella privileges at 5 p.m. each day. That beats the hassle of having to do the work myself.

We watched some guy put up a sort of sun shelter one day on the beach. The process took at least 10 minutes, and I’m sure he needed close to that to take the thing down. He had to put down half-dozen stakes to keep the thing from flying away.

Now maybe he has other great uses for this thing, but that took 10 minutes of awesome beach time he wasted putting up his shelter when the college kid working at the rental place had us in the shade in a fraction of the time.

Since we go to the beach for the whole week, 10 minutes a day adds up to an hour of lost beach time just to stay out of the sun. I have no problem handing over my cash to make sure that I get every available second of my vacation.

This is why we should rent out our services. We not only know the best way to maximize your time relaxing with your toes in the sand, we have expert sand castle builders, whip up a mean game of wiffle ball (at one point, I think six or seven kids from other families had joined us) and have more than one arcade crane game expert on staff at all times.

Years and years of research have gone into honing these skills. Just ask if you need some advice. I’ll be the guy sitting under the rented umbrella.

Street Kayaking

brian — Sun, 21 Jul 2013 19:02:41 +0000

When I woke up last Friday, I knew we had a problem on our hands. The morning of our last full day at the beach brought a whole lot of rain.

We had already weathered the storm – literally. The rain came the day before as well, but we filled the time with crafts, Bingo and a group viewing of “Sharknado.”

I didn’t know what another rainy day would bring, however. We got very lucky with some incredible weather to start the week, and, in reality, we have had great weather for a number of years straight.

But what’s a group of close to 50 family members to do when the weather turns sour – really sour – on vacation?

Kayak in the street, that’s what.

The whole thing started, at least in my mind, as a joke. The road in front of the side-by-side houses two of my sisters rented started to flood. This brought back memories of family members putting a rubber raft in a flooded culvert on a trip many years ago.

One of the houses near the flooding this year happened to have a half-dozen kayaks available to renters. At some point in the mid-morning, Facebook messages started flying about whether the road had enough water to make kayaking possible.

I decided to hop into the shower and see what the rest of the day would hold. After I got dressed, I discovered an urgent voice mail from one of my sisters. My house was just a block from the flooding.

“You have to come out of your house and see what’s going on down the street.”

I grabbed my umbrella, realizing within just a few seconds that trying to stay dry would never succeed, and smiled when I saw the scene.

We didn’t just have one intrepid family member testing the kayaking theory. Several folks paddled up and down the flooded street while many others passed on umbrellas and hats, splashing around in their bathing suits.

Suffice to say, we had started to create one of the all-time best memories in my family’s 25-plus years of going to Bethany Beach.

There were kayak races and “rescues” of folks who lost control and ended up in the bushes. An enterprising group even used tin foil to dress up on of my nephews as the “Sharknado.”

Cars passing on the nearby main streets stopped to take photos or video of this crazy crew (ranging from 3 to 60) making the best of a rainy day at the beach. Some even drove by, threw the car in reverse to make sure they saw what they thought they saw, then captured the scene on their phone.

Some of my nephews spent the bulk of the afternoon in the kayaks, just chilling out and creating their own memory. The rest of us brought food from our individual houses for a potluck sort of lunch, then enjoyed a few cocktails, took a nap or did both.

Two nights before this, my daughter and I walked back from the downtown area (where 30 of us huddled on the covered bandstand to escape the rain and broke into an impromptu version of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”) and said, “our family is kinda awesome, huh?”

All we needed was a downpour and some kayaks to show that to everyone.

A Day at the Beach

brian — Mon, 03 Sep 2012 14:29:27 +0000

My big mouth gets me in trouble sometimes. That should not shock anyone. I have learned over the years, however, to not promise things I might not do.

I did not follow that guideline earlier this summer during a conversation with my daughter. She loves our family’s annual beach week as much as I do, so I told her we could make plans to head down to the beach for a day trip sometime.

I didn’t regret things at that point. When I saw a free Saturday on our schedule and proposed the trip, I felt a little guilty, but not enough to worry.

At that point, I felt fully confident I could get organized and pull off the trip. My only concerns at that point were ones out of my hands, specifically bad weather or rough surf which would keep us from enjoying the actual ocean.

So I started to get ready for the day. I had great plans of getting up early, packing the car and beating the traffic to the beach.

Of course, that didn’t happen at all. We got up early, of course, but getting everything ready took a little bit longer than I had planned. I don’t blame anyone – I just always underestimate for these kinds of things.

Then I forgot that I needed gas. Or maybe I remembered and just figured that we would be on schedule so getting gas wouldn’t put us further behind schedule.

None of that, however, had the impact that my fellow travelers had. Somehow, I picked the day when all the people who don’t know how to merge or handle steady traffic decided to head to the beach.

I do my best not to get all road ragey, but I could not believe my bad fortune that day. Since we do not have a superhighway to the beach – something I need to add to my list of presidential promises – we have two and four-lane roads with stoplights.

I can’t blame the roads for the almost five-hour drive to the Delaware shore. I blame the people who can’t keep a constant rate of speed and seemingly freak out when we lose a lane of travel. They should know to stay home on the day I want to go to the beach.

In the end, I forgot about all the stress and angst the moment my toes hit the sand. We had great weather, enjoyable waves and even saw some dolphins that came incredibly close to shore near the end of the day. I read a ton, we had a nice dinner and walked around town before heading home in the evening.

The drive home had some minor issues – I needed to stop a couple of times, including once for a soda so I didn’t lose focus – but those kinds of things didn’t seem to bother me as much as the delays on the way to the beach did. That’s good because leaving the beach in and of itself makes me feel bad. I didn’t need any other problems.

Better Red Than Dead

brian — Tue, 17 Jul 2012 17:33:16 +0000

We have certain traditions on my family’s annual beach vacation. We always have a cornhole tournament. One night features a crab feast. In recent years, we have added a scavenger hunt for the children in the family.

This year, one of the irregular traditions I observe has returned. I got sunburn really bad, really fast.

As one of true Irish blood, I don’t really tan. I can get a darker tint to my skin, but you would never mistake me for one of the “jersey Shore” characters.

That crew tans so much, they almost turn orange. I get red after just a few hours in the sun.

We arrived around lunchtime on a Saturday and found a perfect beach scene. Family members who had arrived earlier staked out our location on the sand. The waves looked perfect.

Now that Bridget is a little older, I can take her out in the water more often. The opening day waves made it perfect – no big breakers and just enough activity to make it fun. Plus, the temperature could not have been more perfect.

We spent tons of time in the water, bobbing up and down, diving through a few waves and just soaking up the atmosphere of the best week of the year.

I had applied sunscreen at the beginning of the day, but didn’t really pay much attention to keeping up with that necessary task. Besides, I spent most of my time in the water. What could go wrong?

Somehow I forgot to notice that the bright sun beat down on myneck and shoulders all day. I can neither confirm nor deny that someone called me “Lobster Man” at some point the next day.

Even as a repsonsible (kind of) adult contributing (kind of) to society, I have trouble sometimes thinking about basic personal safety when I’m wrapped up in a fun activity. I’m not talking about driving recklessly or anything like that. I just don’t always remember to rehydrate in the heat or put on sunscreen at the beach.

I knew even before I left the beach that afternoon that I would get reacquianted with my old friend aloe vera. We have a bottle of the stuff that probably cost hundreds or thousands of plants their lives so I could sooth my skin since I’m a big dummy.

The aloe did the trick and made me feel better, but I had another six days ahead of me. I worried about what I would look like by the end of the week. I could accept a more regimented sunscreen application schedule, but I could not accept staying off the beach just because I got sunburn.

Eventually, I broke down and bought one of those new-fangled “surf shirts” which helps protect you from the sun. Technology has really come a long way to protect guys like me from having to look goofy by wearing a t-shirt into the water to protect the sunburn.

I appreciate when people come up with ideas that make my life a lot easier. The alternative would be actually remembering to put on sunscreen to protect myself. I don’t know if I can handle that responsibility on vacation.

Beach Anniversary

brian — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 12:04:13 +0000

In 1986, my parents and a few of my siblings went on vacation to the beach together. I don’t know all the details since I was in high school and either spent that week wrestling or working.

I know that they headed to Bethany Beach, Del., where my sister’s in-laws had a condo. A month or so ago, I spent the week in Bethany with 47 family members and friends, marking the 25^thstraight year our family headed to Bethany for vacation.

Like many of the things my family does, I often see the trip at first glance as just something we do. We didn’t necessarily come up with this grand plan to have a massive beach week. It just started and grew to something that provided so much fun that we never considered stopping.

I can’t brush off the significance of the anniversary, however, when I talk to others. They can’t believe that a family, especially one as large as ours, has managed to go to the same place for the same vacation for this many years.

The trip doesn’t just appeal to me because I get to have a week off from work, play lots of skee-ball and spend a lot of time on the beach. I relish the times where a bunch of us stand or sit in a circle on the beach and just talk. The topic doesn’t always matter. The company makes the time worthwhile.

I wish I had an explanation. When I try to describe my family to people, I point out that we are abnormally normal. Sure, we all have quirks that might drive others within the family crazy, you move on and just learn to deal with it. There’s always someone else to talk to.

The traditions also make the trip memorable. They don’t always stay the same, but we manage to find new activities which fit easily into the plan as others lose their appeal.

For instance, we used to have a progressive party which visited each of the houses we rented for the week. As a younger generation joined the family, however, that tradition kind of died out. That helped create Bingo night, which has brought new memories and stories to pass on for years to come.

We didn’t have any special meeting on the matter. We don’t have some rigid schedule that we debate prior to the trip. We just sit on the beach each day, figure out what we haven’t done yet, throw out new ideas people have and somehow develop a plan for that night. Then we go through the same process the next day.

If some people don’t like the general plan for an evening, they simply do their own thing or find some other people who want to do something different. No one really gets too upset about things because the activity doesn’t really matter. We just want to do something fun together.

Like I said, abnormally normal. As I look back on these memories, I only regret that I didn’t play that big a role for the first 10 years or so, but I look forward to the next 25 years or so. I’m not sure where we’re headed though. We’ll decide that on the beach next July.

Favorite Goddaughter Determined?

brian — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 12:31:47 +0000

In my family, most of us have an opportunity to serve as godparent. I have had this privilege twice, for my nieces Alanna and Colleen.

This really creates a special bond between the three of us. They were born when I was in my early 20s so I have literally watched them grow up.

We also have a fun little game where they vie for the title of “favorite goddaughter.” I don’t remember when this started, but it continues even though one has graduated college and the other will do so in the next year or two.

The game never turns ugly because we all know it’s not serious in any way, shape or form. It merely provides each one of us the opportunity to get a little dig in at the others. Like if one of them is late for something, the criteria is surely punctuality.

I have tried to decree that the only true criteria for favorite goddaughter is the one who doesn’t try to prove that she is my favorite goddaughter. This has failed miserably.

But our most recent family vacation may have provided the answer once and for all.

In the middle of the week, the annual family cornhole (bean bag toss for the uninitiated) tournament took place. This marked the seventh year or so that we have paired off in randomly selected teams and done battle to the death.

I found myself paired with my nephew Patrick. We have each won titles in the past, either at the beach or the no-longer contested Christmas Eve tournament. I also think Pat won in the one and only (so far) Thanksgiving event.

Anyways, we had some pedigree to our name, but so did some other teams. We knew we would have a difficult road to the title, but made it to the semifinals without much difficulty. There, we ran into a surprise tande of Colleen and my nephew Sean.

I knew we could not underestimate them. Sean and his girlfriend knocked me and a powerful partner out in the first round at Chistmas one year. Colleen is a Division I college lacrosse player. They had the tools to win the whole thing.

But isn’t this where the “favorite goddaughter” pledge should come into play? I surely have given her enough guidance that she could put her desire for a title aside and help her godfather out.

Of course, no such thing happened. We got behind and could never catch up. With the game to 21, they held a 20-10 lead. Colleen and I stood ready to throw. On her first bag, she nailed a cornhole. I barely missed, then she put a bag close to the board. I had to come up big or she and Sean would win. I missed. The deed was done.

But she apparently wanted to put the favorite goddaughter contest to rest. On her third shot, she managed to sink that bag in the whole and drag the one on the board with it. Three shots, three cornholes. The game was essentially over.

Except she sank a fourth cornhole on the final shot. That was all I needed to see. My favorite goddaughter is the one who doesn’t ruin my dreams of a cornhole championship.

Knowing My Shelf Life

brian — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 10:26:43 +0000

Most sports fans know that one of the saddest things you can ever witness is a great champion not knowing when it’s time to step aside.

Not many athletes step aside at the top of their game. The yearly intrigue of whether certain players will retire has almost become a punch line in some circles.

Yeah, I’m looking at you Brett Favre.

But these situations don’t always apply to the monied stars we see on television. Sometimes the guy who hangs around too long only lives in some niche universe where only a handful of fans understand the dilemma.

Then there are those who face this dilemma inside themselves. They only disappoint an audience of one when they can’t compete at the level they are accustomed to.

That’s how I felt one day last week on my family’s annual beach vacation. I realized that I might not have the chops to take on the kind of waves I used to in my younger days.

I could blame it on the muscle I pulled in my back at the beginning of the week, but since that injury came from mysterious circumstances – the long car ride is the main culprit – I don’t really have a macho excuse to fall back on.

I made it through the first few days without a problem. When I headed out to the beach on Wednesday, things looked a little different.

A shelf of sorts had formed where the waves ended. Heavy surf pounded forward with a brutal riptide, daring people to get in and test their skills.

Stupidly, I followed some of the younger folks in my family out to see how bad it really was. About five minutes later, I managed to drag myself back to shore, breathing more heavily that I can remember for a long time and feeling like I had just enrolled in one of those fitness boot camp things.

The reality is, I didn’t do that much out there. I didn’t body surf at all. I merely tried to duck under one huge wave after another as they crashed down on us. I barely had time to catch my breath a few times as another surge headed toward me.

As I slogged back toward the shelf, I realized that almost everyone who had headed out before me stayed out. They weren’t having an easy time of it, but they hadn’t given up. I didn’t think I was about to drown or anything, I just needed to go back and read my book like a reasonable adult.

That’s where I fit into the scheme of things now, I guess. I went out in the afternoon when things had calmed down, but I stood at the edge and watched while my nieces and nephews dodged those big waves in the morning.

I didn’t like admitting to myself that I had to retire myself from the really big waves, but I know it’s the best thing for everyone involved. I just wish I had realized it sooner.

My New Career Goals

brian — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 22:46:38 +0000

Once again, I have stumbled up on a tremendous skill I possess with little chance to actually support my family pursuing it as a career.

We recently completed my family’s annual beach vacation. For the first time in a long while, we rented a beach house just for the three of us.

In past years, we had split a place with one of my older brothers. A number of issues ranging from the incompatibility of having 20-somethings and an 8-year-old staying at the same house to some problems with the house itself made us realize everyone would be better served with separate quarters.

So I spent a while over the winter perusing web sites to try and find a place small enough and affordable enough for us, but with the comforts that make beach week extra special.

I found a place and made the reservation based only on the photos I could find on the realtor’s web site. Sure, I wanted more assurance, but didn’t really have the opportunity to drive to Delaware to peek into these places.

If I had, I might have seen my new career several months ago. I stumbled upon it instead after we got settled our first night at the beach.

I should open a business where I give rich people advice on how to set up the vacation homes they rent to others.

After all, who knows what regular people want in a beach house better – some guy who uses it as an investment or a schlub like me who likes to pretend he’s living large for one week out of the year.

The way I see it, I could travel for weeks at a time, saying in places for a couple of days each. I could take notes and let the owners know how they could improve the experience for their renters.

Now you might think this is just a cheap ploy to get free lodging, and get paid, in some pretty nice locations, but I’m doing this for you. I’m just willing to dedicate my life to this endeavor.

For instance, the place we stayed in this year had some great touches. They had a bar cart in the corner. They had current magazines. They had a binder with updated menus from many local restaurants.

But they had absolutely no clue how to arrange furniture in a living room. The largest couch was the furthest thing from the TV. The seat with the best view of the television was a single chair. And the TV wasn’t even on a swivel.

You might say that people don’t go on vacation to watch TV, and I agree, but sometimes it rains or you’re waiting to go somewhere or you just feel like staying up late having a few drinks and watching a DVD.

I can tell you how to best arrange your furniture to accommodate those kind of guests. I didn’t ask for this kind of burden. I just know these kinds of things.

Now I just need to find a way to showcase my skills to some rich people. I would hate to let this talent go to waste.

I’m Baa-ack

brian — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 13:56:24 +0000

So I went to the beach and said I was going to blog since I had free time, then said screw it. I did read three books so will review them in the next week or so. I do have some columns to post. And I can always recount some of the beach antics which included a nephew hurling after getting off a ride (where I was sitting behind him so the timing was perfect), someone stealing clothes from a wash line in the middle of the night, and the police responding to a noise complaint at one of our beach houses. Yes, the Sheas were too loud. Whoda thunk it?