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Where the Boys Are

April 9, 2012

What happens when a fifty-year old man decides to go off to Spring Break?  It sounds a lot like a bad movie starring Adam Sandler, I know, but when the opportunity to spend ten days in sunny Key West among hordes of attractive college students in pursuit of cocktails and hook ups presented itself, I just had to say yes.

Ah, Spring Break, I remember thee well.  The nineteen hour drive. Seventy five cent beers.  Sunburn. Where I stayed I cannot recall, but rest assured it was somewhere on the infamous Ft. Lauderdale strip, that mile-and-a-half long stretch of bars and cheap hotels that paralleled the beach.  The armpit of Ft. Lauderdale was what some local officials called it.  Nirvana was more like it, if you had asked the more than a quarter million of us college kids who descended upon the place back in the spring of 1982.

Ironically, nobody goes to “Ft. Liquordale” anymore for Spring Break.  The city fathers ran the students out in the mid-80s.  But for a good thirty years or so, it was Mecca.  And, while the city didn’t actually invent the celebration of springtime awakening and fertility – blame that debauchery on the ancient Greeks and Romans – it did conspire to create the modern Spring Break model.  Back in 1936, a swimming coach at Colgate University in upstate New York brought his boys to Fort Lauderdale in the spring to train in the first Olympic-size swimming pool in Florida, thereby getting a jump on the competition. Two years later, the city hosted a college swimming competition.  By 1953, it is estimated that about 15,000 college students were traveling to Ft. Lauderdale each spring.

The gathering eventually attracted the attention of magazines such as Look and Life.  In 1960, Michigan State English professor Glendon Swarthout wrote a coming of age novel about four college coeds heading to Ft. Lauderdale in search of sun and fun during their spring break.  It was called Where the Boys Are and MGM turned it into a movie that premiered in December of that same year. Three months later, more than 50,000 students made the journey to Ft. Lauderdale.  The floodgates had opened.

By the time I got there in ‘82, it was a free for all of outrageous behavior and non-stop drinking. Guys used hotel railings for diving into pools.  Girls on balconies flashed passers by.  Then there was the nightly parade down the strip where one nonchalantly stepped over passed out bodies, vomit, and broken bottles.  Food?  All I remember were barbeque Fritos and Chips Ahoy cookies.

Everyone seemed to spend the mornings in bed recovering or out on the beach frying.  Afternoons were dedicated to drinking in notorious bars like the Elbo Room and the Candy Store.  Specialty adult-themed drinks were all the rage:  Screaming Orgasms, Skip and Go Naked, and Sex on the Beach were ones I seem to recall.

Mostly, though, I remember The Button, a cavernous barn of a bar where college kids drank beer for free after paying a nominal admission fee.  Mixed drinks were cheap.  Shots of Sambuca were plentiful.  It was a lusty environment, one made even more so by body heat radiating from sunburned bodies and the lewd drinking games such as the wet willy and the erotic banana-eating contests that the bar was known for.  Every now and then the bouncers would spray the crowd with water to cool everyone down.  Even that couldn’t stop all the bumping and grinding.  Oh, it was quite a place.

By the mid-1980’s, Ft. Lauderdale had started cracking down hard on the revelers and that’s the same time MTV arrived on the scene with its Spring Break specials in places like Daytona Beach and Cancun.  The crowds followed, and Ft. Lauderdale happily relinquished its title as the Spring Break capital.

Spring Break today is big business and locales like Panama City, Florida, and South Padre Island, Texas, actively court student visitors.  A number of travel companies cater specifically to Spring Break travel in more exotic locations like Cancun, Cabo, the Bahamas, and the Dominican Republic.  MTV last year began promoting Las Vegas as a Spring Break destination.  There are special Spring Break websites and even cruises catering to more diverse Spring Break desires.

So what did I encounter during my Spring Break in Key West? The bars and beaches were full, but not packed. Students were drinking in public, but so too were the locals.  There wasn’t much wonton nakedness or public drunkenness, at least not from the students.  For such a permissive place, the city felt pretty tame by Spring Break standards.

On the other hand, I did get sunburned and I somehow managed to find all the two-for- one drink specials. I even stumbled upon a convenience store selling beer and wigs, just what every Spring Breaker needs, don’t you think? By day, I took photography classes and watched drag queens frolic poolside.  At night, I sipped White Russians in La Te Da and then fended off the erotic advances of Russian hustler boys in the Bourbon Street Pub.

Ah yes, Spring Break at age 50.  It wasn’t quite the same as it was thirty years ago, but you know what?  It just might make a good movie.  Of course, I’d cast Kevin Spacey rather than Adam Sandler.

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Spring Break Key West

April 4, 2012
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Ode to a Go Cup

March 9, 2012

I was flipping back and forth between Whitney Houston’s funeral on CNN and a college basketball game on ESPN when I noticed something very strange. At first, I thought I was mistaken, but, no, there it was, just to the left of the preacher’s podium in the New Hope Baptist Church: a blue go cup.

Seriously, who in the world would have brought a go cup into the church? And, more importantly, what was in it? There was a cruel irony in thinking that someone brought a Bloody Mary to Whitney Houston’s funeral. And to display it so brazenly! I know it was a long service, but that’s why you own a petite silver flask.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term “go cup,” let me explain. A “go cup” is Southern slang for a plastic cup used to hold a beverage—often alcoholic—and then carried with you when you go somewhere. Some people refer to them as “cruisers” or “travelers.” Still others call them “solo cups,” a nod to the Solo Cup Company which started producing the ubiquitous red plastic drinking cup back in the 1970s.

Before becoming known for party cups, Solo developed wax-lined cups for drive-in movies and fast food joints in the 1950s and small paper cones for office water coolers in the 1940s. Today, the company produces a wide variety of plastic and paper products and boasts annual sales of about $1.6 billion. That’s a lot of go cups.

Red cups make up sixty percent of Solo’s party cup sales. Blue cups are a distant second. The company has conducted a lot of market research on color and they believe the preference is because the color red appeals to both men and women. Red also signifies concepts like energy and passion, while blue is linked with tranquility and depth.

Do you think that’s why red is associated with Republicans and blue with Democrats?

Politics aside, I’m a fan of the classic red go cup. Blue will work in a pinch, as will yellow, but for some reason, a drink just doesn’t taste as good as it does in red. What goes best in a red go cup? All fizzy drinks, and that includes champagne. Screwdrivers, Bloody Marys, and Margaritas, of course. Wine, however, should not be served in a red plastic cup. Neither should a martini or a manhattan. And, don’t even think about handing someone a Cosmopolitan in a red go cup. That’s just gauche.

Beer, of course, is ideally suited for the red go cup, so much so that the red plastic cup is the official cup of college keg parties and beer drinking games like flip cup and pong. More recently, this American party staple has even become the subject of a new song by Toby Keith: Red Solo cup, I fill you up…Let’s have a party.

Despite its reputation and some really bad lyrics, the red go cup is not about merely getting drunk or trying to sneak something somewhere. It’s also about living the moment and taking that moment with you. It’s about freedom and the outdoors. One of my favorite things to do after a day on the beach is to mix a rum and Coke and then go tend my garden, red cup in hand.

For me, the go cup also symbolizes the past, the days of station wagons with wood paneling, Polo cologne, and good FM radio. Back when the Republicans weren’t so scary and before the people you knew and loved began to die.

A friend’s sister paints pictures of go cups in all colors. I have a red one, framed and lit in my cottage. When I ask her why the go cup, she shrugs and says she admires its simplicity and aesthetic. She likes how it makes people smile.

In retrospect, perhaps a blue go cup at a funeral isn’t such a bad idea after all.

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Surfs Up in Rehoboth

March 4, 2012

Surfers look like seals off the rocks at Herring Point, Cape Henlopen State Park, just north of Rehoboth Beach and south of Lewes.

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W. E.

February 26, 2012

Have you seen the movie WE.?  It blends the story of Wallis Simpson and Edward, the Duke of Windsor, with the lives of two New Yorkers fascinated with the couple.  It was nominated tonight for an Oscar.  I haven’t see it yet, but I want to share Rehoboth’s own WE story.  I wrote it back in 2007.

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Rehoboth’s White Benches Wait for Action

February 20, 2012

Snapshot of Rehoboth Beach's iconic white benches that line the boardwalk

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A Good Chair is Hard to Find

February 12, 2012

I’ve been obsessed this winter with finding two new matching club chairs for in front of my fireplace.  They had to be upholstered and comfortable, and not too big.  I wanted chairs with a little style, chairs that fit like a pair of Cole Hahn loafers.

Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

I scoured Washington. Mitchell Gold had a nice variety of “unique and ethical pieces,” according to its oh so stylish salesman. That’d be fine if I were purchasing a sculpture, but I was looking for a chair that I could sit in and write in for a couple of hours without my back hurting.

Room and Board’s made-in-America chairs were too mid-century modern for a cottage like mine built in 1921.  And, besides, I couldn’t wait four to six weeks for delivery. The chairs at my favorite haunt Random Harvest in Georgetown were too diminutive and too beige, while the furniture at Restoration Hardware was too expensive and too eclectic.  Domed burlap wing chairs? Faux mink bean bag chairs?  I don’t think so.

The catalogues were no better. Everything seemed grossly oversized and anything I did like seemed to be available only in pebble and putty or silver and sage.  In Rehoboth, things were certainly more colorful, but seashells, palm trees, cabana stripes, and decorator perfect chairs with coordinated piping and tassels were way too resort-like for my taste.

Exasperated, I ventured over to western Sussex County, where the roads are riddled with signs about bed bugs and Jesus, and furniture is sold in buildings the size of airplane hangars.  Yes, I went to Johnny Janosik, the largest furniture store on the East Coast at 180,000 square feet. That’s one hundred and fifty times the size of my house.

It was eerily reminiscent of being in a casino where you quickly lose all sense of time and place. There must have been thousands of chairs in all different styles and sizes, and if a few might have worked for me, I couldn’t find them, so distracted was I by the humongous ultra suede recliners that doubled as beverage coolers and all the people rocking back and forth and swiveling to and fro as if in some sort of human pinball machine.  When I saw two guys I recognized from Rehoboth trying out white matching leather recliners with cup holders, I just averted my eyes.

By the time I arrived at Mitchell’s Furniture in Laurel, Delaware, I was so delirious from the furniture vortex I’d just escaped that I began to seriously consider buying a pair of green leather library chairs at $2,500 apiece.  I rationalized that if I quit drinking for a month I could justify the expense.

Something, however, stopped me from making that purchase, and I decided to walk outside, clear my head, and make one final pass through the store.  Wouldn’t you know that’s when I spotted a pair of chairs in a bold, but masculine, floral pattern?  I got closer.  They were Sherill chairs, made in Hickory, North Carolina, not far from where I grew up.  Quality craftsmanship with a little southern flair.

As I drove back to Rehoboth with my precious cargo in back of the truck, I couldn’t help but wonder why was it that chairs seemed so much more difficult to pick out and purchase than other pieces of furniture?  Is it because they’re more like us than are beds and tables?  Chairs have arms, legs, and backs.  They can be staid, frumpy, or trendy.  They support us.

But, it’s about more than mere comfort. Chairs are expressions of our individuality and status, of our hopes and dreams.  As status symbols, we choose our chairs to demonstrate what we perceive as our good taste.

Artists and craftsmen build chairs that often express higher ideals.  The famous Bauhaus architect Mies van der Rohe once said that designing a skyscraper was almost easier than a chair.  He should know, having designed many buildings but only a few chairs, including the iconic modern Barcelona chair of 1921.

In case you’re wondering, my new floral chairs look great in the cottage beside my fireplace. They neither swivel nor recline.  And, more importantly, I didn’t have to give up my drinking allowance to pay for them.

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Snow, Finally, in Rehoboth Beach

February 12, 2012

Putti in snow, Rehoboth Beach, DE. Just our second "dusting" of the winter.

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Muskrat Season is Upon Us

January 27, 2012

Friday Night, Frederica, Delaware.  I was taking the back route to Rehoboth and spotted this sign.  The game season is upon us here in downstate Delaware.  You don’t think they’re selling a muskrat sub?

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More Pictures of Rehoboth Beach Replenishment

January 15, 2012

Rehoboth Beach replenishment from above.

Looking south from Rehoboth, after beach restoration.
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