Those glorious beach-umbrella days fell from grace with the emergence of “Surfin’ USA.” Decades of rampant sun worship reigned. They weighed a ton, with wooden shafts capable of skewering a solid metal plate should one go airborne on a wind gust. One glance at them had me bolting oceanward, back-kicking head-high sprays of sand.īack then, beach umbrellas were strictly dad-carry grade. As I topped the dune as a tyke, my pent-up kid energy would uncontrollably surge when I saw those umbrellas sprouting like colorful mushrooms. Thinking back, I flash most on … beach umbrellas. Yes, I’ll admit to being the managing editor of a publication that thrives off tourism, but my passion for raging beach crowds began in far-off times, circa the late 1950s. There is some compulsory turbine speak farther down.īEACH UMBRELLA DAZE: Unlike many of my LBI cohorts, I’m a full-blown fan of wild and unwooly tourist overflows. I’ll forward the Hollywood premise that all publicity is good publicity. There was also the perfect-storm alignment of hot weather, decent gas prices, larger-than-ever homesteads and – get this! – the hubbub over wind turbines and troubled marine life. Part of the draw was a weeklong July 4th weekend. Then, when it seemed the Island could take no more, there was Monday’s incoming backup of traffic. The number of vehicles packed into every parkable crack and cranny was an unparalleled showing. While Fourths of the past were often like an atomic bomb detonation of visitorship, this one was closer to a neutron bomb. And no, amigo, it was not just a same old/same old July 4th. How about that holiday showing of over-packed peopleness? It was like a spontaneous sun-worshiping flash mob. After they come down in the afternoon, surfcasters can proceed with their fluking. BACK AGAIN: After a pause for ‘Surfin’ USA,’ beach umbrellas and such have made a colorful comeback.
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