Blog

Anatomy of a Vacation

Some vacations are life events. I’m not talking about jetting off to Europe but the family vacation that happens in the same, or sort of the same location every year. For my family it has always been the Jersey Shore.  

Our trips were never anything like the infamous TV show. The Midway sausage sandwich stand on the Seaside Heights boardwalk was the high point. When that tasty sandwich dripped grease on your shorts there would be a break out of language similar to the script of the show.

In recent years there’s been a migration further south. It’s interesting how it has caused a little rift as if where one vacations is a loyalty issue. This year we ventured all the way to Virginia Beach from New Jersey. This is a big step for us because both of my daughter’s families live walking distance to school, the bank and milk and bread. These vacations are usually measured in how little the car is moved. Several years we rented a house at the far end of the beach. We parked our car in the spot nearest to the beach. Stored in the trunk to shortened the daily lug was all the beach accessories.

I traveled with the group leaving at 5am, the other family drove halfway the night before and stayed in a hotel. We told the kids to sleep in their clothes on Friday night with the hope of rolling them out of bed and into the car. The alarm went off at 4:30 and Benjamin was up shouting, “Vacation time.” For us this is nostalgic because my father would do the same thing on purpose to annoy his adult children.

While it wasn’t the sleepy time ride that we had expected it was pleasant enough.  The notorious phrase ‘are we there yet’ has been replaced by when can we have our tablets.  

Simultaneously we arrived at the house with the carful of cousins. Once the house inspection, and car unloading was complete it was time for bathing suits and the pool.  Yes, a house away from the ocean and we have our own inground pool.

Long before the VRBO, there was the winter trip to rent the house for summer vacation. I remember my mom commenting to the realtor about the apparent lack of window screens of one potential rental. It was a place I saw in later years, I think in the movie Animal House with halfway walls and a maze-like layout. “Here’s one,” the realtor laughed as he pulled a screen out from next to the stove.

There was the beloved place only four houses from the beach that we swear was furnished by the items left behind by previous tenants. Too bad no one ever left behind the missing slats from the outdoor shower door which were perfectly located for indecent exposure.

There were so many rentals that had kitchen sinks that shot water in your face but could never fill the sink, sofas so old that sitting on the floor was more comfortable, the steep stairs to a steaming attic. In my childhood not a one had air conditioning, probably didn’t have electrical service that could support it.

The crazy thing is we would rent any of them again because for all the inconveniences we had fun. Of course, we’d also hope after all these years for the updates of air conditioning and working appliances. However most of those summer rentals are gone forever, to people whose dream to be by the water and pockets were stronger than mine. The jersey shore rentals are vanishing, especially at the affordable prices.

So this year we drove further south, to be together, close to the water. Still, the Saturday evening dinner is the traditional meatballs and pasta. The adults say yes to most all kid requests for snacks and games and the evening trip to the beach in their pajamas. In picture perfect perfection two generic superheroes and five unicorns run across the beach to greet the waves.

The setting sun gives the sky a pinkish glow a sign of good days to come according to the old sailor’s poem.

It is good. Cousins on the beach watching the crash of the surf, dipping their toes in the water, running to and from the waves.

A wonderful start to a family vacation even if the pajamas didn’t fare well.