Thoughts from an underwhelming vacation.

Just another cloudy day during the vacation of 2021. Looks like the sun from Mars.

Although I am retired from the daily responsibility of a work schedule and no longer need to take formal vacations, I am a creature of habit. And thus, as I have for the better part of the last two-plus decades, I arranged to take the same two weeks of vacation time this year as I have before at a North Falmouth house owned by a good friend.

I recently joked on Facebook that I was asked what it was like to take vacation during one of the least appealing stretches of summer weather in recent memory, and my response was, “I’m retired. Every day is a vacation.” But it really wasn’t that much of a joke, as the following reflections and observations will attest.

** Yes, the weather sucked. As the top photo indicates, that was pretty much what a good day looked like here on the Cape for most of the first week of my time here — foggy and unappealing. Otherwise it was mostly raining. The last few days haven’t been awful, but given the expectations one normally has for a vacation, it certainly underachieved. 

** This vacation was doomed from the start. As I have related to you since April 2020, my left knee finally needed surgical repair in the wake of an injury that was suffered in 1971 and then aggravated considerably in 1973. I was given two options at the time because arthroscopic surgery was then only one of those exciting prospects that would be available in the world of tomorrow: Either be in a cast from hip to ankle for about six months, or live with it and hope that a more sedentary existence didn’t aggravate it again. I chose the latter. 

I had the surgery on Aug. 11 and underwent seven months of physical therapy. Sometimes it seemed as if I was making progress, but for the most part, it didn’t. And in the last few months, simple tasks such as climbing bleachers, walking short distances, climbing stairs or mowing my lawn became torturous endeavors. So it is now, with pain now developing in my right knee and my back because of the way I’m hobbling around.

Where I am, it requires some measure of walking to get to the beach — either a half-mile from the house, or maybe about 400 yards from a normal parking space on the side streets closest to the beach to the place where I generally sit. Neither could be accomplished at my current level of soreness, and the last stretch of about 50 yards of soft beach sand was something I didn’t even want to attempt, given the instability of my left knee. 

But that’s just part of my pique.

I’ve been told that the local beach “improvement association” wants the Town of Falmouth to enact several restrictions to vehicular traffic down here in the future, including making several streets one-way heading to or from the beach, eliminating almost all on-street parking except for residents, installing large speed bumps and marking off wide bicycle lanes, and other annoying yuppie stuff that assumes that everyone going to the beach is in the peak of health and would be willing to run a marathon first before going for a swim.

Already, I’ve seen a high level of entitlement in the people down here this year. They walk in the middle of the street with their multi-level strollers and three other kids riding their little bikes every which way in the roadway, paying no heed to oncoming traffic. They look at me cross-eyed if I happen to pass them in my car (while going less than 15 MPH, mind you). And everywhere I see those signs of admonition that command, “DRIVE LIKE YOUR KIDS LIVE HERE.” To each of those signs, I would love to post a corresponding rebuttal that says, “Teach your fucking kids not to play in the street.”

I love this area of the Cape and I have ever since I started coming down here in the early 1970s. But I can’t abide by this infestation of entitled yuppies and their bratty puppies. When I was a kid, my parents taught me all the right things about highway safety — look both ways before crossing, don’t run after the ball if it gets loose until all the cars have gone by, get out of the way of oncoming traffic, and so on. I guess today’s thirtysomethings can’t be bothered to impart that knowledge upon their whelps. 

Yes, I have become a “get offa my lawn!” old man. And I’m damned proud of it.

So much for privacy, huh?

** A modern “Sophie’s Choice.” Neighbors to the back of the house where I stay recently cleared all the foliage growing on the boundary line, leaving a straight shot and clear view between the deck where I sit and their porch. Privacy is tough to come by down here in a thickly-clustered neighborhood, but I wonder if they would have regretted their decision more if I had been able to walk around to the outdoor shower this year.

One of the joys of summer on the Cape is the traditional outdoor shower. While it is enclosed, I would usually walk around the deck and around to the shower wearing nothing more than a bath sheet and a pair of flip-flops. That’s a sight that begs for increased privacy. But with my knee issues as well as the new lack of privacy, I opted for the indoor shower the entire time. 

** I’m back to counting cars. One of my favorite pastimes is counting the number of cars that pass me on my way to and from various stops, and making note of their country of origin. It’s an interesting way to track what the latest trends are among automobile buyers.

How do I do this without driving into a tree somewhere, you ask? Simple. I just turn on the cell phone’s voice recorder, put it on a seat, and as I drive, I call out the country from which each car that passes me is considered to be from. Yes, there are blurred lines these days because most English cars aren’t made in England, Chrysler is owned by Fiat and I believe some holding company in India has the reins of well-known Swedish import Volvo. Or maybe it’s Chinese. I don’t know. But as long as I think Volvos come from Sweden, so they do for these purposes.

A rare moment of light traffic. 

I don’t get distracted, but if the traffic on the other side of the road is too busy, I know enough to pause and not run any risks — which is better than what some joker in a Volvo did earlier today, when he or she bolted out from the parking lot of the Catholic Church in Mashpee to cut across an intersection, almost T-boning my new car. Fortunately I saw that might happen and relied upon the Teutonic Turbocharger under the hood to bolt me across the intersection (no lights, no stop signs and I had the right of way) without incident. And that asshole had the gall to beep at me!!!

Anyway, here is the tally after four days and a total of 2,396 cars that have passed me:

1. Japan, 1,023 (42.7 percent); 2. USA, 900 (37.6); 3. Germany, 268 (11.2); 4. South Korea, 114 (4.8); 5. Sweden, 46 (1.9), 6. United Kingdom, 39 (1.6); 7. Italy, 6 (0.3).

A few observations — Toyota has a wide lead in the number of Japanese cars, and I’d say that Subaru has beaten out Nissan for the No. 2 distinction, although I have not noted the individual makes. … Among US automakers, it appears to me that the most popular passenger cars are Jeep products, equally split between Wrangler and Cherokee models. There are a lot of Chevy, Buick and GMC SUVs in the mix. Most of the US cars that pass me, however, are Ford, Chevy, GMC or Dodge/Ram trucks and vans. … If I had to guess from the German cars I’ve seen, I’d say that BMW may have a slight lead over Mercedes-Benz, and again, most of those are SUVs. Volkswagens seem to be less popular down here than in the past. … Among the Korean contingent, I think Kia has a slight lead over Hyundai, but not by very much at all. … And among the rest, all but one of the Swedes have been Volvos, with one aging Saab among the bunch. Most of the Brits are Land Rovers with a few Mini Coopers thrown in and a smattering of Jaguars. And as for the Italians, there have been four Alfa Romeos and two runty Fiats. No Maseratis or anything more exotic. And I still think the Alfas, with their pucker-face grills, are what Edsels would look like if they were being made in the 2020s. 

** One last thought. I’m back to wearing masks in public. With all the talk about the danger of the Delta variant, I have not taken any chances when visiting overcrowded supermarkets or the movie theater. Hate to say it folks, but I think we’re all going to be masked up again by September.

I’ll be back at Fulton Pond Studios shortly. For those of you going on vacation (and needing it) in the weeks to come, I wish you happier times. And yes, I’ve already planned to be back here in September when the invaders have left.