American Vacation

At 11 o’clock on a cool summer night, my brother Joe and I took off down the lonely highway heading east. We fought over whose iPod would dominate the stereo and then blasted the tunes in the quiet surround:

 She's a good girl, loves her mama
 Loves Jesus and America too
 She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis
 Loves horses and her boyfriend too

Jacked up on caffeine, we finally met the dawn as Ocean City, Maryland came into sight. Stiff bodies and bloodshot eyes made their way onto the glittering morning beach. Runners and bikers were up with the sun, and Joe and I passed out on the sand while the seagulls pecked around us.

We didn’t do much else on our American vacation other than lie on the beach and soak up espresso and sun. But I did get to see what other Americans and foreigners do at one of the most popular summer destinations on the eastern seaboard.

If you’re an Ocean City teenager, you cruise the boardwalk. If you have enough hormones to power the USS Kitty Hawk, you wolf-whistle and cat-call.

“Hey you,” calls one boy. He snags a look from a pretty young thing. He continues, “Did it hurt?”

She looks confused. He has her right where he wants her.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” He pulls the line with a wide grin and bright eyes.

She rolls her eyes and walks on.

He gets the same expression from other young beauties with, “If lookin’ good were illegal, you’d be breakin’ the law.”

All the while I was sitting with a young guitarist with a pile of one dollar bills strewed in his open guitar case. He was kicking Sublime tunes:

 If I had a shotgun, know what I'd do,
 I'd point that shit straight up at the sky
 and shoot heaven on down to you
 Oh well the bars are always open, and the time is always right
 And if God's good word goes unspoken, well the music goes all night

Not everyone on the boardwalk is young and thin and beautiful. Let’s not forget that “26% of Americans are obese and 36% are overweight. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t like to get out and take some weight off of their pocketbooks. I saw a lot of American parents dole out the bucks to their whining kids. I even spotted one rotund lady rolling down the boardwalk in a wheelchair with a 20 dollar bill hanging out of her mouth. Don’t ask, because I don’t know.

But that’s the great thing about the boardwalk. Most everyone is on vacation. No one knows anybody else and everyone feels free to sing to their own tune:

 Gonna free fall out into nothin'
 Gonna leave this world for a while

 And I'm free, free fallin'
 Yeah I'm free, free fallin'

But not everyone is on vacation. Some poor stiffs have to work at low paying jobs to scape by as they watch the vacationers spend it like they have it.

One intriguing thing about Ocean City is that there is a huge population of Russian workers. Every store is outfitted with a few young Russians and no one seems to know why. They are obviously not Russian-Americans because they don’t have a solid handle on the language. I asked 5 different Russians if they had stationary in their store. I received 5 confused looks and then had to elaborate.

Toward the end of the trip I found myself eating greasy pizza with Joe and two of his friends. The cute Russian waitress approached our table and I said, “I’ve noticed there are a lot of Russians working in the area. Can you tell me why?”

She was so sweet and poised as she explained that Russian high schoolers get an opportunity to participate in a work exchange program in the summers. She was simply there to perfect her English. Her accounting major in college would need a good dose of English know-how if she wanted to go anywhere in her field.

“Ohhhhhh,” I exclaimed as it all started making sense.

I also met an Ecuadorian at the laundromat who was doing the same thing. He worked two jobs: MacDonalds and a convenience store. He wasn’t shy about complaining that Americans are really annoying at 2am when they’re drunk and looking for something to eat.

Although the boardwalk at Ocean City is a huge attraction, I really didn’t spend much time there. I went to Ocean City to escape from everyday responsibility and park it on the beach. Joe was initally invited to Assateague Island with his tall, dark, and cut friends. I was constantly surrounded by beefy guys who made heads turn. My attitude was, “yeah, I’m with these guys,” with an egotistical smirk on my face.

Assateague Island is about 10 miles from Ocean City. There’s really nothing on the island except for some campgrounds, a national park, and a bunch of wild horses. And these swarms of horses are domesticated because they just don’t budge an inch if you walk up to them. And they know how to bust open a bag a pretzels on a picnic table with their foreheads. It’s actually pretty scary at 2am when you’re alone by the campfire.

The beach was a 2 minute walk from our campsite. The bathroom facilities were also the same distance. For 30 USD a night, it was a pretty nice setup considering that a hotel would cost almost triple that.

The one problem I had with the camp set-up was the food. I got sick of eating hot dogs for breakfast, hamburgers for lunch and then more hot dogs for dinner. Don’t forget the marshmallows for dessert. I started feeling so sick that I bought some corn to roast. But Joe and his friends are all weightlifters so they thrive on a protein diet. And then there’s China girl who’s used to eating rice and noodles every meal. Sigh.

In a heartbeat, I’d go back to Assateague Island. I’d jump at the chance to be sitting at the campfire at 2am with Joe and talking about all the little things that make life wonderful. That’s my idea of an American vacation.

 God Bless America,
 Land that I love.
 To the oceans, white with foam
 God bless America, My home sweet home.