I had way to much fun with a group of young people that moved onto the beach this past Friday. I am trying to reflect actually if it’s me getting older or if they just are what I nicknamed them ‘The Little A$$holes’.
Lucky for us they are not right next to us but close and loud enough to observe nicely. They arrived with three pickups, one pulling a fifth-wheel, one a large generator, and another a fishing boat. The first hiccup came when they pushed the boat and trailer right up to the water but didn’t put the boat in the water and setting up camp where beach strollers had a hard time moving through. Second hiccup was running one of the pickups and reffing it up frequently. Third, once sunset came around they didn’t just play music but blasted the whole beach with horrid achy breaky heart and trucks country music. Darn that was the moment when I wanted to go over and ask if they could get over their broken hearts somewhere else please. They even had Elvis songs in their lineup. I admit I was watching and waiting for other beach goers to unite and take them on as the stinky eyes that group was getting was fun to watch. I am not sure if they got the hint or if someone actually told them but for about one hour the music went on and off before being shut of completely.
Heck I really do love music but those that know me well know I do not do country music well. I do have some Randy Travis and Dolly Parton on my playlist but that’s about it.
And yes I made fun of them as I felt I was watching 20 year old spoiled I considered brats. I was able to laugh about it because the best part of our new lifestyle is that we can at any time leave and set up somewhere new. It takes us just 2 hours to get moved out and voila, we can leave bad neighbors in the dust. A much tougher thing to do if you have bricks and sticks 😉
As it was we were leaving on Saturday anyway so we only got to watch their antics for one day. I did feel a little sad for our immediate neighbors as they started hiding out in their camper once the noise started.

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