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I was lucky enough to spend some time with family at the Crystal Coast last week. Also, I worked in a fantastic four-hour daytime nap.

Life has been more hectic than normal lately, so it was nice to put some distance between our obligations and breathe some ocean air. There’s nothing like a few days of swimming, flea markets, and fantastic food to temporarily extinguish the flames of the rat race. Mind you, the humidity was so high I saw two fire hydrants fighting over a dog.  

We had access to a swimming pool, which in the old days meant Tax Deduction #2 would curl up in a ball and I’d throw her at her older sister, Tax Deduction #1 for several hours. Those days are long gone, even though I still managed to find an Uzi-style water pistol and terrorize both of them for the mandatory two hours as is suggested in the Annoying Dad Manual, chapter three, paragraph seven.

TD#1 is a fairly reserved college student, while TD#2 makes a hummingbird hopped-up on Mountain Dew seem lethargic. Their relationship is like a buddy-cop movie without the car chases and not nearly as much gunplay. Hopefully, they’ll be on the same page by the time they have to decide which cut-rate nursing home I’ll spend my golden years in. For now, the sheer act of one of them breathing triggers legal action from the other.

After a recent rehearsal, my bandmate Jode Haskins and I reminisced about the times we’d swim way out into the ocean to reach the sandbar near Bogue Inlet Pier. If anyone saw a fin, a chorus of “those are just porpoises” rang out. We’d all grown up on reruns of “Flipper” so we assumed everything would be just fine. It’s been said by many that a porpoise is simply a dolphin with intent.

I believe all of these flavored suntan lotions are drawing the sharks to us. Far be it from me to tell the Hawaiian Tropic Corporation how to run their operation, but their new “Bacon and Chum”-flavored suntan oil might be bad for business in the long run. Over the years we’ve visited the beach to fly kites and pick up seashells, but since the sharks are now coming ashore for the early bird special at Applebee’s, we stay out of their house.

We do not visit “antique” or “vintage” shops while at the coast, as those are usually code words for “expensive” and “what won’t these Yankees buy?”. Places like The Hem of His Garment in Swansboro and the Newport Flea Mall are more our speed.

During our expedition, I found a great vinyl LP by Dave Brubeck sideman Paul Desmond for $1, while The Wife and TDs found a cheese grater, three fancy-schmancy glasses, and a necklace for a total of $1.

We attempted to obtain some butter pecan ice cream from our favorite place on the waterfront in Swansboro, but the streets were crammed with cars for blocks as if Sinatra was in town. As a fallback, we drove to a frozen yogurt shop, and I was appalled to see a “FroYo divider” dispenser next to the cups and napkins.

Have we as a species devolved to the point that we can’t handle pistachio-flavored yogurt and mango-flavored yogurt at the same time?

During the Great Depression, millions of people survived on flour bread and water for months on end. Just a few decades later we’re unable to navigate the dietary complexities of frozen yogurt. Then again, someone has convinced a generation of men to invest in moisturizer, Botox, and beard trimmers more advanced than anything NASA ever landed on the moon.

If Neal Armstrong’s dehydrated eggs happened to get mixed in with his dehydrated grits, I wonder if he would’ve thrown a fit and told Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins to turn the command module around and head back to Denny’s?

To listen to live and archived broadcasts of The Bryan Hanks Show with Jon Dawson and Jonathan Massey, visit www.BryanHanks.com.