It really is a Looooong Beach

While drinking Coors Light and flying a velociraptor kite on the beach a couple of days ago, we decided that they should change the name from Long Beach, Washington to Long-Ass Beach, Washington. "Long" just doesn't really do it justice--it's unbelievably long; shockingly long--I understand Lewis and Clark's stunned awe when they arrived in the area at the end of their expedition. Plus we think it may help secure a steadier and hipper resident population.

For our week-long vacation we stayed at Uncle Bob and Aunt Alice's cabin, which is about a block from the beach--the little sign above the kitchen sink says it all when it declares that heaven is bit closer when you live on the beach. Highlights of the week were visiting lighthouses, exploring the beach, eating way too much, riding the trolley in Astoria, and visiting the Maritime Museum, which had two amazing new exhibits--one on the history of sailor tattooing--you gotta love Sailor Jerry's vintage swallows, compasses, and liberty pin-ups; and one that documented young men's travel to Vietnam at the beginning of the war via their drawings, doodles, countdowns, and signatures on the canvas cots on the boats that took them there, many for the last trip of their lives.

Plus we got to see the "Goonies" house, visit Jake the Alligator Man, and ride go-karts (a first for me--I stayed in the slow lane and laughed so hard I cried, although I don't know that I was laughing as hard as the corndog-toting go-kart operators, who were probably just super-impressed with my safe driving skills). Eric's friends joined us for the last two days of the trip, so I also got to try barbequed oysters for the first time and learn a few new card games. Although we had a rousing time, I am, as always, happy to be home. Until they decide to change the name of the town, I guess I will just have to miss my daily pastry and coffee and walk on the beach from afar.