It is revealed today that some members of our party find the beach
part of our vacation boring. It turns
out that they find the entire vacation boring because we do the same things
every time.[1] Yes, that is why other members of our party
(the ones who pay) like it. This is what
HUIT (pronounced, it turns out, after examination from the assembled, hoo-weet,
like the French number) would call an open ticket, a problem for which a
solution is actively being sought.[2]
But Private Hokey-Pokey is correct that we are creatures of habit here
on MV. Even our beach lunches are
strictly regulated. They consist of:
Sandwiches – PB&J or PB&F OR
tuna (my proprietary blend of water-packed tuner as we say in these parts,
mayo, pickle relish, and celery seed).
If PB, then plain wheat bread, if tuna, then toasted wheat bread. Dinner leftovers such as grilled fish or
steak may be substituted upon request.
Snacks – triscuits, huit-thins, peanuts,
skinny pop, chips. Woe to whomever buys
the honey-mustard pretzels because they will vanish quickly although the
culprit will be identifiable by his or her yellow fingertips.
Treats – 4-6 chocolate chip cookie bars
OR oatmeal cookies, made in Cambridge and stored in the freezer.
One jug water that is slightly too big
to drink out of but we keep forgetting cups.
Everyone once in a while someone likes to mix it up by bringing
leftovers that don’t fit on a sandwich.
But if you do, you’re responsible for your own fork, dammit.
The Bored One looked suspiciously cheerful at Moshup beach this
morning, frolicking in the surf, but maybe that’s because she had an enjoyable
afternoon planned with her buddy Tavi, hanging out at the fair. I’m told later that they ate an unconscionable
amount of fair food, watched some oxen pulling, and saw a bunch of “so so cute!!!!!”
baby animals, including goats, bunnies, and piggies. The rest of us went back to the beach and
were pretty pleased with ourselves for doing so.
We note with an odd combination of regret and satisfaction that
Chilmark Chocolates is closed until after Labor Day – almost the entire month
of August. That’s a lifestyle decision,
not a business one, but we support it even if it does mean doing without.
Dinner was – finally – at the almost-impossible to book State Road
restaurant. This has been a darling of
the island for years, routinely blessed by the Obamas with their presence,
which may explain why it is so hard to get into. You can only book 30 days in advance and you
have to do it THAT DAY or you just won’t get a table. People do show up late to wait for late
tables but who wants to do that when you are already slightly exhausted by the
beach and your generally indolent lifestyle here? You can usually stick a fork in us by about 9
pm, I can’t imagine starting vacation dinner that late. We have an excellent meal of halibut and
striped bass and oysters and blueberries and all the summer things. Izzy stares down the barrel of a massive
burger, and blinks. We have to help her
with her fries.
[1] See “Tomorrowland, La-La-Land, and Some Very Weird Sh*t: Los Angeles, 2018” for further exploration of
the our-vacations-are-boring theme.
[2] We all know about HUIT because I get text alerts whenever there is an
outage or investigation regarding some info tech issue at work, which seem to
be happening with depressing frequency this week. Izzy calls them huit-alerts and also now refers
to the crackers as huit-thins.
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