Salty Air & Simple Things

A group of seagulls flew off to the rear of the beach back by the dunes. They seemed to be playing a game. One would get up off the ground and flit and float. When the first one landed, another would repeat the behavior. The small group looked like they were playing their own little version of seagull leapfrog.

Another bird seemed to ignore them completely. He stood his ground on a small sign, keeping to himself. A few of his friends and acquaintances would come flying by, but he seemed focused on his own thing. If I dare say it, he seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Several friends have gotten into birdwatching in recent years. I’m not one of them. But when we visited Bethany Beach in Delaware recently, it hit me that seagulls aren’t that much different than the rest of us. There are the introverts and extroverts. There are the mamas and the papas and the Great Uncle Bobs.

Sure, Bethany Beach is technically home to a whole ecosystem of coastal birds—laughing gulls, sanderlings, and brown pelicans—but to me, they just looked like a bunch of beachgoers with feathers.

Besides learning a little bit more about our avian neighbors, I picked up a few other insights on the trip. Here are a few of my learnings:

Up, Up and Away

While we were lounging on the beach, small biplanes would fly low along the coastline every 20 minutes or so carrying advertisements. One advertised Surfside, a popular brand of non-carbonated, vodka-based canned iced teas and lemonades. Another promoted Ladies Night at an under-21 club.

The plane engines groaned—a little too loud for my liking—but I couldn’t help but think that would be a cool retirement or summertime job. Yes, I would need to get my pilot’s license. And yes, that would be a pain, but you would get to be up in the sky with the beautiful clouds. I can think of any number of tougher ways to make a living.

I mean, take a roofer on top of a scorching hot roof, a landscaper pushing a mower in July, or a restaurant worker clearing tables after a dinner rush. Yes, yes—put me up in the clouds every single time.

A Cold, Hard Truth

I’ve written more than a few times that ice cream should be eaten daily, year-round—in the cold of winter and on the hottest days of the summer. in my book every day should begin and end with ice cream. Yeah, yeah, I know I’m crazy. But I do have one addendum point to my dissertation on ice cream.

It’s really a rather simple point: The best ice cream in the world is eaten at the beach. The hot sun, the cold spray of the salt water, and the soothing taste of ice cream in your mouth… bring on the Cotton Candy flavor! If no Cotton Candy, then give me several big scoops of Death By Chocolate. It simply doesn’t get much better than that.

Ditch the Screens, Pass the Balsa Wood

Minecraft, Fortnite, Rocket Racing, and Battle Royale can all pound sand. The next Grand Theft Auto game can take a backseat, too. Oh, give me a break.

When you’re a kid at the beach, there’s nothing like the cool, old-school finds in the boardwalk toy stores and t-shirt shops. There are obviously the sand toys that add a special touch to building castles and fortresses, but it goes beyond that.

There are the bright kites and bubbles that turn a hot afternoon into a blast. There are the balsa wood airplanes that feel like they could fly forever—just as long as they catch a good breeze. There are shiny cars and trucks, and for rainy days, all kinds of card games, strategy games, Etch-A-Sketches, and those classic Yes & Know invisible-ink quiz books where you magically reveal the answers with a yellow marker.

You won’t find the latest video game console in those shop windows, but that’s the best part. Beach games are meant to be played together with friends and family.

I’ve Been Skipped

When I look up the most popular baby names of the late sixties and seventies, there it is sitting right in the tenth slot: Brian. You would think that souvenir companies back in the day would’ve picked up on that and made sure the rack of personalized keychains, magnets, and license plates was fully stocked.

But it wasn’t to be. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone hunting for my name and came up empty. Of course, I have a habit of checking. A stand full of miniature Bethany Beach license plates? I have to find my name. I start with the As and find Alexander and Andrew. There’s even Alejandro and Aliyah. Forget about finding them back in the day. I keep looking down to the Bs and see Becket, Brody, Benjamin, and Brooklyn… but forget about Bryan or Brian. Hello?

C’mon people, let’s get your act together!

Beach Words of Wisdom

Oh, I’m no philosopher. I barely know what my own next move is, forget about having the wisdom of Solomon to advise others. But saying all that, I found three statements on this trip that sum up my beach mindset to a T:

• “I put my symptoms on WebMD and it turns out I just need to be on a beach with a cocktail.”
• “Welcome to Adulthood where you’re constantly tired except when it’s time to go to sleep.”
• “I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure I’ll never look back on my life and say that I went to the beach too much.”

I love traveling to the shore, and I’m already trying to figure out how to get back soon. Where’s your special home away from home? Tell me down in the comments!