Life's A Beach, Part One

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

This is the week we go down to the beach for our annual vacation with John’s family.  Since his parents have died, it has become our gathering place for siblings, in-laws, out-laws, our children, nieces and nephews, and just to make us feel really old, newborns and grand children, great nieces and nephews.  We have expanded so much as a group, we finally had to break down and rent another house.  It was either that, or stagger sleeping time and bathroom breaks and reinforce the house’s support system.  Some of us call it the Hamster House because in the morning there are bodies everywhere and trying to get out the front door without stepping on someone you love can go either way.  Since most of John’s siblings are spread across the U.S.A. and our kids are everywhere, other than weddings and funerals, it is our best chance to get together.   For me this week is loads of fun, but the preparations are starting to kill me.  One of the other sister-in-laws and I have been designated the bakers of the group, which means in addition to packing all the stuff that goes into a beach vacation, I also have to bake for a large number of sweets-loving people.  Then to ensure the goodies make it to the beach, I have to protect the sweets from the sweets-loving people that reside in my house, including myself, and hope everyone listens to my “hands off” declaration. 

 

It is starting to seem like packing for a vacation is almost not worth going on the vacation.  My mom starts packing for a trip a month in advance and recently declared she is no longer traveling because she can’t do it anymore.  Of course, I chide her about how silly that sounds and then turn around and say the same things to my family.  What is that quote?  I am my mother after all, which scares me on so many levels I can’t even wrap my head around it.  The last time she came for Christmas she begged me to pack her stuff for the trip back and then spent the time it would have taken her to pack herself, to let me know all the things I did not do correctly and ended up re-doing it all.  I left the room periodically to mouth to my family that the woman was insane and could someone please shoot me, but John didn’t think a BB gun would be enough to put me out of my misery and didn’t know if he had enough BB’s, although both my kids offered to go get some more.

 

So the other day when Megan called to ask me what I was doing and I said, “I am in packing hell and I am not going on any more trips,” she started laughing and said, “ok, Virginia,” and she knows how much that bugs me.  Sometimes, I answer back, “shut up, Laurie!” which I know gives her the same shivers as when she calls me my mom’s name and also puts me back on top. We often talk about traveling with Fudge and Vern, but if I had to pack crates, dog food, leashes, and all the other dog stuff we would need, Fudge and Vern would have to run along side the car or be strapped on top like Mitt Romney’s dog.  I can’t even imagine what all that would entail and then I would have to remember to pack a tarp if it rains, different size bungee cords due to the dog’s different weight requirements, and a bumper sticker that reads, we know our dogs are on the roof, we put them there.  I can also tell you that telling an over planner and an over packer that you are able to pack the day of the trip and get it all in one carry on bag is the equivalent of telling me you can eat whatever you want and not gain weight because you have a fast metabolism. Seriously, both comments make me want to smack your forehead and poke your eyes like Moe used to do to Curly in the Three Stooges.  In other words, if you are not going to pack for me and zip my carry on luggage up and hand it to me, zip something else (Megan) or in Doris’s case, please stir your hot coffee with your tongue.

 

Luckily, it was just John and I so we did not have to worry about passengers taking up our valuable cargo room, but still with cots, bingo prizes, luggage, snacks, cookies, camera equipment, pillows, and shoes, we managed to fill up the car. Oh, and before you blame it all on me, John was over packed, too, and had a suitcase equivalent in size to mine along for the trip.  No matter that I packed him, it still counts because he let me. Next to the packing, my other least favorite part is the drive down 95 South with a cross between Marcel Marceau and Mario Andretti.  John keeps up one speed and seems oblivious to berms, semi trucks, small towns, and curves.  I admit I also yell at the GPS lady,  but he calls her stupid over and over again and then gets mad when it turns out she was right.  I did point out once that if she was stupid, but turned out to be right and he did not listen to her what did that make him, but he was too busy pointing out a stupid driver in front of him to answer me. I have to side with him on the other drivers because it seems as if no one in the entire USA or at least driving one of those extra large F-150 (and I won’t tell you what we feel the F stands for) pickup trucks knows that the left lane is a passing lane and not a lane for meandering down the highway tying up traffic.  I have a theory about men with big trucks, but I won’t bore you with the details.

 

Over the years, I have gotten good at entertaining myself in the car. I’ll say the same thing over and over until someone responds and even if it is with loud “shut up,” I feel like the guy who can crack up one of the guards at Buckingham Palace. Since Marcel Marceau does not speak, I like to play my music loudly and sing along. Nothing thrills me more than opening up the CD and finding the lyrics in the jacket, because otherwise I have to make up the words or sing, “I don’t know this part,” and that seems to get on people’s nerves.  John has about 5 CD’s in his car and probably four of them are Enya and the other one is Kenny G.  I like both artists IF I am trying to relax and mellow out, but when I get up at 3 am for a long drive, I want something that wakes me up and not puts me to sleep. For this reason, I packed some of my music, including Eminem.  I know he can be offensive to some people, but the dour mood he conveys when he sings and the repeated use of certain bad words usually matches my mood when I drive or I am a passenger and allows me to scream out certain bad words and then turn to anyone else in the car and say, “What’s your problem? I am just singing along to the music! Don’t make me rearrange your face! No, no, no, that’s not me talking.  I am just reading along to the lyrics.”

 

On our most recent trip I decided to play the Rhianna/Eminem duet repeatedly until I learned some of the lyrics.  To be fair, before I started, I did ask John if he wanted to sing one of the parts and he did not respond, so I had to do both parts and even with reading the lyrics, I soon discovered I could not rap.  Well, I could rap if you didn’t mind I was off the beat and I sounded like I was singing the second part of Row, Row, Row Your Boat, where you are purposely trying to come in late to give the tried and true song a little zip.  So, there we were driving down the highway, one man staring straight ahead, determined to make as little eye or verbal contact as possible with his bad rapping passenger and a 50 plus woman rapping her heart out and occasionally saying, “hey homie, my dogs and I want you to start calling us Gray-Z, Big V, and Snoopy Doggie.”  Fudge’s name might need a little work, but it was either that or Poop Doggie.  God knows it is a good thing I can entertain myself because I don’t think John ever responded or commented at any time during my performance.

 

Most people wouldn’t think a vacation crammed into a house with other people of all ages sounds fun, but we have a blast.  We eat, we laugh, we play games, we eat, we talk, we eat, we watch movies or TV, we eat, we play Bingo with inappropriate Bingo prizes, and then we eat some more.  Mostly, we have fun and lots of it.  It is just about over and I am already missing everybody.

[Karen, Jasper and Jackdoodle]

What fortuitous timing, I was planning to start making my packing lists today for my trip to visit Jane and this blog has made me feel so much better about needing three pieces of luggage for three days! It's also made me feel very lucky that not only do I not have to bake, but I got to choose the kind of pie my hostess is baking for me!   And as frightened as I am about getting on a plane for the first time in 16 years, your description of the  Eminem sing-along even makes me feel better about flying!  

So thank you for this excellent blog, Laurie Gray-Z, and btw, your vacation sounds wonderful anyway! 

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

I often don't have time to spend on DK anymore but when I do check in there is ALWAYS something fun to read from my favorite writer.

Frankly I would love to drive down the road singing RAP with you, together we would have a blast. I don't know about your DH but my DH would just seat dance all the way!

We used to do the same thing with Mike's side of the family but it was in WI, White Fish Lake, the family had a beautiful home, pontoon, and extra bunk houses around the property, it was our Heaven on Earth. The large garage had 4 extra sleeping areas and we tried to get there before everyone else so as not to get stuck with that place. Ah Happy Memories.

PS I agree with you about the F150's and your theory is the same as mine, big trucks....small, er, ah, well you know.

[Nancy, Ned, Clancy, and Charlie]

As for packing....  I make lists weeks before, check weather predictions daily, and pack a week ahead for our motorcycle trips because space is sooooo limited.

[Nancy, Ned, Clancy, and Charlie]

I want to join your family for this annual people romp!  It sounds like so much fun.  OMD, I loved the part in your blog about the Rhianna/Eminem rap duet, having the words written for you, singing both parts. 

[Christine & Camus]

Sounds like a great vacation, especially the sweets!  As for the rap music - you go girl!!!

[DJ & Chance]

Have a great family vacation!  I laughed at your packing anxiety--I go through exactly the same thing, even though I travel frequently.  I fret for a day or two, finally throw stuff in a suitcase at the last moment, and usually forget something.  Is there a cure?

[Elizabeth, Bailey & Bruin]

How fun to spend time at the beach with your family!  I completely understand the whole singing thing.. I love to sing to the radio and Yep, I make up my own words sometimes too LOL..  Jim and I used to sing Midnight Train to Georgia when we were dating.  I was Glades and he was a Pip ; )

I bet the doods can't wait for their momma to get home!!!

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

There you are!!! Welcome back!  I'm afraid I have to agree with Joanne on this one! The odds of my getting into a car with you are slim to none. Maybe she and I could follow BEHIND you and keep in touch with our hands free/no texting phones. :) Your vacations sounds wonderful and I think it would be ridiculous if you traveled all that distance with half of your car empty! There's a reason why all that space is there--to be filled! :)

[Traci -Bexter & Maggie]

I am so glad this is a "part one."  I can't wait for "part two!"  It is so great that you can have so much fun with your family!  I am jealous of people who can bear to spend that much time with their family.  I would rather work than be forced to be with mine for that amount of time and in that close proximity.  While reading this, I had images of National Lampoon's Vacation where they accidentally left the leash AND DOG attached to the car.  I appreciate the fact that you recognize the car is too crowded to try anything crazy like that!  Oh yeah, and if my close friends ever want to REALLY insult me, they call me by my mother's name, so I understand that COMPLETELY!  I always tell them I would rather them cuss me out than do that!

[Deanna & Desi & Cori]

HI-LAR-I-OUS!!!  I can identify with almost everything!!  My mom "practice packed" before each trip to make sure everything would fit.  My own Marcel Marceau / Mario Andretti actually drives both an F-150 and a Corvette (obviously not at the same time).  NOTHING annoys me more than someone calling me "Wanda".  About the only thing I can't identify with is the big family gathering.  My entire family could pretty much fit into one room of a Motel 6 - not that we'd ever want to!!!