December of 2019 — the last normal month any of us can remember — I spent in Naples, Florida, and when my son Dave flew down with the grandkids just after Christmas, I asked, “So what do you want to do tomorrow?”
“The beach!” they crowed in unison. Understandable, since Chicago beaches aren’t quite so tempting in December.
“OK,” I said, “but tomorrow is Saturday, so it’ll be crowded. If we don’t leave by 9 a.m. we won’t find a parking spot. To hit that deadline, we’ll have to operate like a well-heeled commando unit. Can you do that?”
“No prob,” they said. They grabbed their electronic Devices and headed to bed.
Mission Log:
Saturday, 07:30 hours — I awaken to a sleeping house. I brew coffee and read the paper on the Lanai.
08:30 — Dave awakens. He reminds me that it’s still 07:30 for the kids. “No problem,” I say. “If it’s crowded, I can drop you off at the beach and drive around, looking for somewhere to park.”
09:15 — Dave cooks eggs and toast and calls the kids to breakfast.
09:45 — Dave tells the kids to stop hunting for lizards on the lanai and come eat their eggs. The kids slump inside.
10:00 — Dave tells the kids to put down their Devices and eat their damn eggs. The kids say the eggs are cold and gross, and they’re not hungry anyway. They can eat at the beach.
10:05 — Dave and I eat the kids’ eggs, which are cold and gross. He tells them to put down their Devices and pile into the car.
10:15 — Natalie looks up from her Device and remembers that she forgot to bring her swim suit. I tell her she can wear shorts and a T-shirt. She gives me a Look that I can’t interpret, but Dave (who is fluent in 12-year-old-girl) says we need to go shopping.
10:30 — Dave tells the kids to put down their Devices so we can go to Walmart right now, or we’re not going to the beach.
12:05 — After several more Device-ultimatums, we arrive at Walmart. We fill a shopping cart with salty snacks and $115 worth of pre-tariff Chinese toys, inflatables and water guns, but Natalie can’t find a suit she likes. We check out and head for Marshall’s.
12:15 — Where we find no swimsuits that Natalie likes.
12:25 — And nothing at Ross, either.
12:35 — Ditto for Steinmart. Natalie decides that the suit she saw at Walmart wasn’t really all that bad.
13:05 — We leave Walmart with Natalie’s new swimsuit, but head back to the house to pick up items we forgot to pack — football, frisbee, skimmer boards, etc.
13:20 — The kids dash into the house to use the bathroom while Dave and I round up the forgotten toys.
13:35 — Dave tells the kids to put down their Devices and get into the car while he packs a few sandwiches into the cooler.
14:00 — Dave confiscates all Devices. The kids give him a Look I can’t decipher. Dave gives me a Look that says: “Don’t ask.”
14:15 — We stop at the bait shop, buy three dozen live shrimp to use while fishing from the beach, and hit the road.
14:20 — Dave tells the kids to stop playing with the bait, or they’ll all be dead by the time we get there. The shrimp, that is.
14:35 — At Lowdermilk Park, we find plenty of spaces in the lot, vacated by 9 a.m. arrivers who wearied of their five glorious hours at the beach.
14:55 — Beach towels deployed, fishing poles baited, toys unpacked. Mission accomplished!
15:55 — The rain begins. We debate whether to stay or go. I don’t know how to get live doppler radar on my cell phone; the kids offer to find it for me. I snort in derision at the very thought putting my Device in their hands. I interpret their Look as awed reverence and respect for my sage wisdom.
16:15 — The rain lessens. A rainbow arches across the sky.
16:25 — The fishing picks up. Natalie pulls in a nice snook, about 3 pounds. While holding it up for a photo, the snook spits up a jellyfish. The jellyfish stings Natalie on the hand.
16:30 — Mama Google advises that the folk remedy of peeing on the sting is a bad idea. All are relieved at the news, particularly Natalie. The sting is painful, but not serious—unless it was a box jellyfish, whose sting can cause paralysis and death almost instantly.
16:35 — Natalie is still complaining about her painful sting. We rule out box jellyfish as the culprit.
16:55 — We pile into the car to head home and douse Natalie’s hand with vinegar and warm water. The lot is filling up with people who have come for the spectacular sunset that is less than an hour away.
17:30 — We arrive home. I remove empty snack wrappers and untouched sandwiches from the cooler. Dave tells the kids to put down their Devices and come eat their pizza.
18:00 — The kids stuff their paper plates into the trash and dash for their Devices. Like a well-heeled commando unit, they chime: “Can we go to the beach again tomorrow?”
I give them a Look.
That was more than a year ago, before getting on an airplane was a life-and-death decision. This Christmas, everyone stayed home; there was no family trip to the beach. The season was quiet.
Some people, I am told, miss the “old normal.”
Go figure.
Author, musician and storyteller TR Kerth is a retired teacher who has lived in Sun City Huntley since 2003. Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com. Can’t wait for your next visit to Planet Kerth? Then get TR’s book, “Revenge of the Sardines,” available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online book distributors.
