Our Little Circus: the good, the bad and the seedy

Ocean Seedy, that is.

Earlier this summer, I had a little vision to take the boys for a little family beach weekend. I found us a privately owned condo in Northern Ocean City, Maryland thinking we'd go spend some time in the surf and sand, gorge ourselves on soft ice cream and french fries, putt putt to our hearts delight and meandor down the boardwalk, take in some rides and show the boys the beach I went to growing up.

Sounded good. Except late last week, Hurricane Bill arrived on the scene and screwed up our little adventure. We made the best of it, but still ended up coming home a day early. Because when you're at the beach and can't actually go to the beach, there's only so many ways to entertain two active 6 and 3 year old boys.

Boy, Ocean City has sure seen better days. Maybe when I was younger, I just didn't notice the huge barefoot tattooed guys on the boardwalk wearing obscene t-shirts in broad daylight, or the mothers pushing their newborns in strollers while they chain smoked. Maybe back then I didn't mind sitting in bumper to bumper traffic where it takes 45 minutes to go 10 miles. Maybe back then, I just didn't know there were so many other beaches not too much further away that are much cleaner, more serene, more beautiful and not ... well, just not seedy.

I guess I'm a spoiled brat. For the past ten years or so, when we've had a seaside craving, we've escaped to the Outer Banks, NC, Cape May, NJ and Sandbridge, VA. Now I knew Ocean City wouldn't compare, but still, I didn't recall it being so - blech.

Anyway, we tried to make the best of it. And the beach snob in me knows we will probably not go back there again. Rehobeth, Bethany, Sandbridge, Outer Banks.... you all might be a little further but you're totally worth it. If I ever see a guy wearing a Harley shirt that says "My Other Ride Has Tits", I'll know I'm back in Ocean City.

The first night, we drove about 20 miles north to Rehobeth, DE. This is the beach I first went to as a child, when I was four and my brother was a newborn. This sign brings back so many memories. Rehobeth is delightfully family friendly.

Its also a popular gay destination which is pretty much a guarantee for cleanliness, tasteful gourmet restaurants (no all-you-can-eat mega barns here) and as a bonus, the kids rides on the boardwalk were awesome and inexpensive. Even the public bathrooms weren't too awful. We may just have to visit here again next summer.

Look how gigantic Dylan is in his boat. I'm surprised they let him on one.

Rehobeth boardwalk Pirate Blasta ... the boys could have played this all night.

Next, Dylan and I decided to ride the Sea Dragon pirate ship, and we both about threw up halfway through the ride. I've never seen him turn so many shades of green, and I was right there with him. Can't do rides like I used to. I took this while we were mid-air trying not to hurl.

Then it was back to our OC condo for some rest. Letting Dylan and Logan share a bed was not the best idea. No one got any sleep. Logan looks so innocent doesn't he? Don't believe it!

Once rested in the morning (or not) and amply stuffed with sucky Food Lion donuts, we packed up our towels, lunch, buckets, shovels, vests, drinks, and the other trillion things necessary to spend a day at the beach with kids, and headed to the beach. Except when we arrived, this is what we found:

Hurricane Bill caused massive coastline high tides and the water was all the way up to the condos. No sandcastles for us! The waves were huge, and the undertow too dangerous for the kids to even think about venturing in the water. Logan was ankle deep and a wave knocked him right over, to the extent that an older child near him ran over and pulled him up. We lasted about 15 minutes.

So, what do you do when the beach is out? Putt putt. I wish I had video footage of Logan golfing. Because if you could bottle up the level of determination that kid has to whack that golf ball, you could make a bazillion dollars selling it to junkies. At one point, either he hit himself or Dylan hit him in the face with a putter, his tongue was bleeding, but he could have cared less because he was so focused on whacking his ball. He never gives up. Even if it takes him 67 strokes to get it in the hole. I really hope we can help channel that determination towards something useful and productive as he grows older. Liking making us millionaires.

And as a bizarro side note, we couldn't help but notice every single (of the 500) putt putt places in Ocean City dye their water this electric neon blue color. I mean, who do they think they're kidding? I actually envisioned one of the kids falling into the water and coming out looking like an Easter egg, or better yet, turning into a giant blueberry like Violet Beauregarde.

We then braved the 145 block drive down Coastal Highway to take in the plight of the Ocean City boardwalk. We made a quick stop on 4th Street to show the boys the shack I lived in during college. I had a PR internship the summer between my junior and senior year at Towson State, and lived in this roach motel with 5 friends. It was some fine living, as you can see. Fancy! We had the bottom level with the porch, which we furnished with poposan chairs. I remember specifically there was a dead smashed cricket in our bathtub for almost the entire summer, no one ever thought to wash it off. And our laundry room had so many empty kegs in it, we could no longer wash clothes by the end of the summer. We had ribbons of dead fly paper hanging from the ceiling, since we had no A/C or screens on the windows. I probably could have a more civilized living experience joining the Peace Corps that summer, but then again, there would have been a lot less beer involved.

Showing the boys my old summer house led to a discussion of Ocean City Public Relations and Dylan helped us brainstorm their next campaign slogan. Ocean City .... Its Not Sooooo Bad!

At last the Ocean City boardwalk. Clearly, Dylan was doing his best to fit in by throwing out some gang signs.