I’m having an out of beach experience


We didn’t go to the beach this summer.

Facebook and Timehop keep reminding me that for years either this week or last week of August, I have been at the beach. Specifically on the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

There was one year that we spent in Virginia Beach, but that was an aberration. A nice one, but just not what we normally do.

I was trying to think about the last summer we didn’t spend a week, or at least part of a week, at the beach. There’s a good possibility that it was 1999.

There may have been one summer in there that we didn’t go. But not more than one.

So, I’m missing it.

Never mind the reason(s) that we’re not there. They are many. And it’s okay.

Although I miss the sand crabs that would visit me in the mornings as I watched the sunrise.

True, I had a spider and his web ride to work with me on Monday. He was pretty brave when I hit the high speeds, crawling back up into the side mirror. It was pretty impressive to watch him hang on.

But I don’t think he made it on the trip to Williamsburg for rehearsal. I kind of missed him yesterday morning.

And, if you know my history, you know what it means for me to say I miss a spider.


This summer, as I’ve watched others post about their summer vacation at the beach I’ve realized how many must have felt when I posted my pictures of my morning coffee and the sunrise.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sorry for those pictures or for posting them. And I’m certainly not sorry for my times of the beach.

But, I realize I’m blessed.

I mean, good heavens, I could live in a landlocked state.


Our annual trek to the beach has always been a time of reflection and clearing my head. Generally it takes two or three days for my system just to slow down.

I didn’t get that this summer. And the fact that I’m typing this while fighting off a summer cold is not insignificant.

I did take a week off. I managed to take one load of garage crap to the landfill and eight bags of clothes to Goodwill.

I did get to take the aforementioned trip to Atlanta to see my older son. It was a great time and we had some fun. But I did not get to disengage from life’s busyness.

In fact emails kept pouring in. Calls kept coming.

That happens at the beach, too. They’re just easier to ignore when you can’t hear the phone over the sound of the waves.

I may still get to see the ocean this summer. But I won’t get to spend a good seven days parking my ample backside in the sand.

It’ okay. Mostly. We’ll get another beach week.

The point here is that, beach or not, we all need times to take a break. Times to rejuvenate. Time to clear the mind of cobwebs.

With all apologies, of course, to my dear, departed, spider friend.

I’ve missed my window to take a week and do that. I had about three weeks earlier this summer that didn’t involve rehearsals. But they did involve two reunions.

I have three shows this fall, the last of which will close before Christmas. There’s no time for a week at the beach.

For what it’s worth, I could do Christmas at the beach.

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