Recipe for an American Holiday

For the Memorial Day bank holiday, we went to the beach. I spend a lot of time bitching about not living in the city anymore (and will continue to do so, thank you very much) but being just a short drive away from the ocean is a nice consolation prize. We went to Sea Bright. Isn’t that the best name ever for a beach town? I hadn’t been to the beach since last fall when the weather turned cold and seeing the ocean again amounted to one of the best therapy sessions I’ve had in quite some time. I swear to God if I didn’t have to work for a living I’d split my time between the city and the beach. I have little use for anything in between. The water is still ice cold so we couldn’t swim. I am, of course, completely sunburned but, let's face it, the stinging pain and long-term health risk is a small price to pay to look this good.

The weather was perfect all holiday weekend so we did the things that are expected. In addition the beach, we went on a picnic and I taught 6-Year Old Daughter how to throw a Frisbee. The obligatory weekend injury occurred when she missed a catch and it hit her right in the throat. No harm. We also went to a carnival; the traveling kind with creepy carnys, geeks, dangerous rides and bad (good) food. Have you ever heard of a deep fried Oreo? They exist. I was walking down the midway and saw a cotter pin on the ground and wondered which ride it fell off of. I grilled hot dogs (twice) and made grilled chicken with watermelon salsa. Also, a shitload of yard work.

For my overseas readers, Memorial Day is the holiday when we honor our veterans and fallen soldiers in past wars. I heard our moron President stumble through a few unintelligible sentences that, I think, praised our men and women in uniform and I almost wretched. This is the same shithead who used his daddy’s connections to duck out of military service when he was called. Don’t get me started on that fool.