Touron Time.

I seem harsh at times.

Let me try and explain what it’s like to live in a vacation wonderland. At first glance, living at the beach is a dream, unless you like mountains and snow and stuff, and then maybe not so much.

And it is a dream. But at times, it’s a weird dream.

During the off season we are a fairly small, fairly tight knit community. We party together, we go to one another’s homes for dinners, we go to the same bars. We’re a small town, just like small towns everywhere.

And we love it.

Then the season comes ’round and things change dramatically. Imagine your community suddenly overrun with strangers. Lots and lots of people hangin’ out, drinkin’ and doin’ their thing. Kinda like a huge concert ‘cept they don’t go home. They stay and, welded to their idea of vacation fun, do pretty much what they want. It is, after all, vacation.

And we love that part too. But.

You become invisible. From time to time you see other locals and you flash a smile, a sign saying it’s cool, it’ll end and we’ll get together. You endure even as the endless pool parties grind on and on with kids and adults squealing and boom boxes blaring keeping you awake.

You want to kill ’em all. But then you get up and walk the beach.

And it’s cool again.