Thoughts, Memories & Ravings of Big Daddy Graham
Here Comes the Sun
First of all, I am writing this article in February during a 15-day stretch of no sun. It’s not “partly” cloudy, it’s “totally” cloudy. There are no leaves on the trees. The cold wind is flapping like the flags at a bitterly cold, windy Phillies night game in early April. COVID is dominating the news. There is a weather prediction of 3 to 6 inches of snow this weekend. (At least there is no call for a “wintry” mix. Whoever invented that word should the sentenced to 30 days in the Sea Isle slammer.)
However, there is potentially awesome news heading our way, which is that most of the bars and restaurants are going to be open this summer for our business. Thank God! I will never be so happy to spend my last $27 on a Sunday Funday at the Ocean Drive, jamming to the Juliano Brothers. (Ever notice that the first syllable in Sunday Funday is “sun?”)
So, let’s take a look at the word “sun” and how important it is to us beachgoers in so many ways.
WAKING UP
Up in the States, I hate being woken by the sun. I own “room darkening” curtains so I don’t get up until 11am. With my dual career as a standup comic and a late-night talk-show host, I’ve gone through virtually all of my life without ever having to set an alarm clock. What’s that old saying? “When that alarm clock goes off, you know the best part of your day has just ended.”
Most rentals do not come with darkening curtains. But the sun blasting through our dreamy sleep state doesn’t infuriate us down the shore as much as it does in, say, Upper Darby. And you’d think that it would, being that most of us, regardless of age, stay up chugging down beers on our decks till 2am, if not later. So, why doesn’t it bother us?
Because nothing ruins a summer day down the shore like rain. It puts a damper on everything, no pun intended. Look, if you are down for the week, you can handle a rainy Tuesday. But a rainy Saturday or Sunday? It ruins everything, whether you are vacationing for the week or a weekend warrior.
So, waking up to a blasting sun is exhilarating because you know you are on your way to a great day. I dig watching people struggle to the beach like they are cast members of “The Walking Dead.”
“Looks like you had a rough night there, Rita.”
“We were up till four in the morning drinking margaritas and Miller Lites.”
SUNSCREEN
I love hanging in Dalrymple’s, listening to shoppers argue over what PDF sunscreen they should use.
“You don’t need 50, Kathleen.”
“But I’m Irish!”
Where men never had such a stupid argument. Men use whatever is hanging around. No man ever buys sunscreen, so they couldn’t care less what PDF number it is.
HAPPY HOURS
Some of you might not remember a time when other than the now-defunct and will-be-sorely-missed Carousel, there were no outdoor happy hours in town. That’s right, none. Now, virtually all our bars and restaurants with a liquor license have outdoor seating. They are all packed by 5pm. But I particularly love it when it’s 1:30pm, 95 and sunny, and there’s three dudes sitting at a sweltering bar knocking back Fireballs. That’s dedication!
AT LEAST YOU’RE NOT BRITISH
The British never see the sun, which is why bands like the Beatles write endlessly about it. Here are just a few titles.
“Good Day Sunshine”
“Sun King”
“I’ll Follow the Sun”
Not to mention there are countless tunes where the sun is mentioned, like in “Dear Prudence.” “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful and so are you.”
Then there is the title of this article, “Here Comes the Sun,” based on the song written by George Harrison. How many times have you found yourself singing out loud to match the sunrise occurring before you? It’s the best. During the winter with snow on the ground, I have asked my Alexa to “play the Beatles” and “Here Comes the Sun” is the first song it plays. I instantly feel warmer just listening to it.
One last thing about this song: Did you know that of this writing, “Here Comes the Sun” is the most downloaded Beatle song of all time? See the infinite power the sun has?
DRIVING HOME IN THE SUN
OK, I saved the worst for last. You arrive in Sea Isle on Friday night planning to stay for the weekend and it rains every minute of it. Every stinking minute. That is, until Sunday evening when you get to the top of the bridge heading toward the Garden State Parkway and the sun comes bursting through the sky like you’ve never seen before in your life.
That, my friends, is the worst.
