TigerLily's road trip to Ohio got me thinking about summer vacations.  When I was a kid, we didn't have much (any) money.  My mom and her sister used to pack us all up in the car (three kids, two adults) and drive "down the shore".  If you're not familiar with the phrase, that's how people from New Jersey say "to the beach".  They would rent one motel room for all of us and we'd pack all kinds of food, because, of course, we couldn't afford to eat out more than a few times while we were there.  The car wasn't air conditioned and had black "pleather" seats.  A ten minute pee stop turned into a twenty minute tantrum by those of us who left a layer of skin on the seats at the last pee stop.

The ride was only about 45 minutes long, but it seemed to last three hours.  My cousin was such a brat and would whine and complain the whole way there.  I would BEG not to have to sit next to her, but since we were the youngest, our opinions didn't count.  By the time we arrived, we'd spill out of the car, as if it were a torture chamber.  My mom would go into the motel office and check us in, no doubt lying about how many people were going to actually STAY in the room.

There's something about motel rooms when you're a kid....it was so exciting to be anywhere other than home.  The beds had those massage thingy's attached.  We'd sit and feed quarters into that machine just to feel the bed shake and slam against the wall.  God only knows what the people next door must have thought we were doing.

We could never afford to stay ON the beach, which meant hauling all our crap (beach towels, blankets, coolers, sand toys, rafts, hats, change of clothes, kitchen sink, etc.) the three, four or five blocks to the beach, where we'd sit all day.  It would take us an hour just to set up.  And then there were the rules:  1.  Wait 1/2 hour after eating before going in the water.  2.  Stay right in front of the lifeguard stand when swimming.  3.  Don't go out too deep.  4.  (my favorite)  If I have to come and get you out of the water, you're staying out for the rest of the day.  My mom had a wicked temper, so trust me, I never tested Rule #4.  In the evenings, we'd go to the Boardwalk and ride the roller coasters.  There was this really neat trampoline place (these were the days before every kid had one in his backyard).  You could bounce for hours for a dollar.  Between the coasters and the bouncing, it's a wonder we kept any food down.

So funny enough, 35 or 40 years later, and after a recent stay at a swanky hotel ON the beach in South Beach, and after countless luxury vacations, I really miss those "shore" trips.  I can't remember the last time we all were together, just the girls.  And I can't remember when something so simple made me so happy.