Dispatches From the Jersey Shore, the First Day

Greetings from breezy Long Beach Island. We write this from our tiny condo's porch in the morning breeze with the sound of waves gently brushing the sand, just a hundred yards away. 

This is the fourth year in a row we've stayed in this condo, and something like the 40th time we've stayed in this complex. We recall staying in this particular condo in 1989 and 2003. Some of the furniture is the same. Some is original. Our family history here goes back to the 70's. We recognize most of the condo owners, and many of them recognize us. A decade ago, the Stroock extended family rented four, count 'em four of these condos for a week. If one Google Street views 20 Amber Street, Beach Haven, New Jersey, there's a charismatic and good looking man standing poolside with two adorable blondes. That's us. 

Also, damn you Irish.

Lemme explain. Last night we were sitting in our condo, watching the Phillies annihilate the Cardinals, when we thought, 'We feel like a late night cocktail.' Long time reader(s) of this blog will recall that before times we were a professional drinker with an iron constitution and limitless tolerance. As we've matured, we drink less and less. But there it was, a sudden urge to sit out in the night breeze with a drink. We decided, why the hell not?

The time was 9:30, but it was a Saturday night and Rommel's Liquor store is two blocks away. We weren't sure what we were going to buy when we got there. After a minute our eyes fell upon an old friend, Tullamore Dew, the preferred whisky of our best man's dad. Off the boat from County Cork, he is. More than once in adulthood we poured the man a finger, as he liked to say. Yes, perfect, we thought. We grabbed the bottle and took it to checkout. 

'Forty-two bucks?' we exclaimed and looked at the bottle. 'Not complaining. Is this some fancy specialty blend?'

'No,' the cashier replied, 'That's regular Tullamore. Inflation is killing us, especially on imports.' 

'It's not your fault,' we said as we took our purchase and skulked back to the car.

We enjoyed our drink in the breeze. 

Also, FJB.

Oh, yesterday we did a pencil jump into the pool and promptly slammed our feet on the bottom. And guess what? We're gimpy this morning. We're not sitting around and waiting for this to heal. Oh no. We're going to enjoy ourselves, goddamn it. Even if it hurts. 

Will's Good Idea for the Week of 8/27/23. You know, there's going to be a lot of sitting around, taking in the sun. We brought a big book about them dang Yankees in the Army of the Tennesse. But we're going to use a lot of this time to think about the Red Dawn Thingy.