That was the catchphrase of this week's trip to our beloved beach. It was a little bit of a sight to behold. You see, they (the town council and the area merchants' association) have decided that what the little beach town needs to breathe life into the faltering Boardwalk is a carnival. Yep, nothing says "Classy Beach Town" quite like a carnival full of overpriced rides, screaming kids, and grease-covered carnies.
Yep.
It was quite an eclectic gathering of folks, the oceanfront carnival.
I think our little beach town is trying to be Myrtle Beach. The last afternoon we were there, a chick rolling a flavored-ice kiosk made her way down the beach. Not quite the Lemon Quench girl of MB and NMB, but a nice try.
The pinnacle of our journey east, though, was the lady at the Exit 364 Rest Area. She took the opportunity to place her dentures on the side of the sink and re-apply Fixodent. There are lots of things we'd expect to see at a public rest area. That wasn't one of them.
Oh well, as we drove west, homeward bound, the whole car broke out into the chorus of "Ain't that America."
Ain't that America, indeed.
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