Like Sands Through the Hourglass...

August 02 2008 00:30 Filed in: Poop
The most important part of any beach vacation is the gift that keeps on giving.

I am going to be driving about 800 miles tomorrow home from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina on the longest vacation I’ve had for a while. I did manage to get quite a bit of positive out of the trip over and above the The Children’s Museum of South Carolina.

We were about a 5 minute walk from the beach. I’m not a swimmer really, and though I enjoy the beauty and serenity of the beach, I’m not much of a “beachgoer.”

Every few years I end up at some “beach” based vacation and it all comes rushing back to me why the hell I really don’t like spending much time there. The Goddamned sand! I love the sheer, awesome beauty of the seemingly boundless ocean, the salty moist breeze and the majesty of the waves hitting the shore. But the fucking sand is just too much. It takes a total of about 90 seconds to get too much sand.

Sure, if you’re barefoot and dressed for it, walking in the sand to the water is okay because you don’t have to worry about the sand once you hit the water. But as you probably know, that makes the whole mess worse. Now you’re simply a wet sand magnet. Every inch of your body has particles of sand on it after even a short stay at any beach.
The second day we decide to skip the short walk and drive directly up to the beach. We stayed about an hour. When we got back the beach house, the 2 minute drive that it was, you could hear the sand tinkling off the floor of the car as we got out. All the beach towels are covered with sand. It’s in your shoes, your hair, and hopefully not too much is mucking up the digital camera wich is already having issues with the moisture and wind.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THIS SAND DAMNIT!? All in all, 14 hours to Myrtle Beach, another 14 hours back tomorrow and I’ve spent a total of 3 hours at the actual beach itself, and that was just about enough.

Tonight before we packed, we decided to take the kids down to the corner and get some ice cream for our last night here. Since we were sharing the beach house with family, we had two cars and had to take both down to the ice cream parlor. Before we left, my wife told me that she wanted me to take the kids and my brother-in-law back to the beach house because she wanted to run a quick errand with her sister before coming back.

No problem. The errand? They went down to the beach to get some sand to take home.
She’d obviously over-looked the fact that there was at least 3 pounds of it on the floor of the car.

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