Over Memorial Day weekend my family and I went to the Jersey Shore, Ocean City to be specific. I just want to ask those of you reading this blog: What is it about boardwalks next to crashing waves that makes us want to eat Fried Oreos? Is it the fresh air, blowing from the waves, giving us a giddy feeling that makes us want to engorge ourselves? Is it the fact that it's warm, we're wearing shorts and low socks (see below), and thus fried bits of chocolate sound better than a nice salad and a granola bar? I suspect that there is some deep evolutionary need that drives us to desire fried things next to a beach. I just haven't figured it out yet, what with all those available fish.
As one originally from California, and at times living not-so-far from a beach (Santa Monica), I went to the Jersey Shore with some trepidation, expecting, oh, I don't know--big hairy guys with lots of bling strolling along next to women with too much hair. My sad stereotypes aside, the Jersey shore (at least in Ocean City, "Named #1 Beach in New Jersey!" a billboard proclaimed) was actually quite nice, and the people not so different from the ones who might stroll Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica on a late afternoon (though mostly more pale and mostly less blond).
The same deep need that drove us to eat Fried Oreos apparently also drives one to purchase a $9.99 sweatshirt stating "Ocean City" on it. My mother informed me that this sweatshirt was really rented: one wash would do it in. I told her I will not be washing this sweatshirt. Ha.
It really was a wonderful time at the beach. People good naturedly rode bikes and surreys on the boardwalk, generally trying not to mow down pedestrians. The beach was windy but the sand excellently white, and we managed to fly a kite for the first time in several years. It only dove unexpectedly once, upsetting a big hairy guy with lots of bling next to a woman with too much hair.