'Tis the (Off) Season to Be Jolly

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach--waiting for a gift from the sea.

-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

The greatest gift from the sea, in my humble opinion, is free access to it.  And, as most of you know, that free access is hard to come by. 

UNLESS...it's the off-season--that magical, if somewhat arbitrarily designated, grouping of dates that encompasses three-fourths of the calendar year.  My sermon to you:  Take advantage of that ginormously expansive and--just to reiterate--FREE window, my friends.

Spending parts of every summer on Cape Cod since before I had hair, I'm understandably partial to the curling peninsula's sandy getaways.  (But to justify my bias, I found that I'm not the only one who loves Cape beaches).

Most people prefer the ostentation and roar of the ocean side.  It's perfect for stormgazing, but I personally recommend the quietude of the bay beaches for post-Memorial Day bronzing and general dawdling.

My favorite coastal haven on Cape Cod Bay is Campground Beach, with a parking lot that holds ten times the number of off-season cars it sees and doesn't involve any embarrassingly exhausting dune climbing. 

And I don't think I can say this enough:  It's all FREE every Fall to Spring. 

Indeed, the sea "does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient."  So be flexible and find solace in the passing of summer--you'll be amazed how many perfect beach days the fall and winter (yes, winter) will surprise you with, and you'll see the conventional summer destinations in a way most people don't even realize they're missing out on.

There are more people at sunset than at noon; everyone
watches the sun dip down, as if the sky were some giant
projector screen.  Sometimes there are even applause after
the grand finale.

The Late Fan Catches the Free Tix

As you all know, Beantown and I are in the thick of a deep and passionate love affair, and as the city's mixed-blood lover, I can confidently say that you haven't experienced Boston if you haven't done one of three things:

1.  Downed a pint of Harpoon while singing "Sweet Caroline."
2.  Tried to cross a street in Harvard Square (shout out!).
3.  Screamed until mute at a B.C. football game.

The daughter of a B.C. alum, I've done my fair share of #3, usually from the GG alumni bleachers.  But today, my friends...today was different.

My mom was originally slated to watch the gold spandex splendor but chickened out when she heard that sporadic T-storms would be terrorizing the Bay State.  Enter giddy daughter.

By the time my dad and I had stuffed the car with towels, ponchos, and extra socks, we barely made it to the stadium in time for kickoff.  Of course, the one thing that eluded our packing whirlwind was our game tickets.

We were lucky that the ticket office makes ticket printouts for season ticket holders who find themselves in our exact unfortunate situation.  We were even luckier that--while we stood there in a line nine people deep, watching the first few minutes on the tiny flickering ESPN feed dangling from the wall (the same feed that everyone at home was watching all warm and happy)--a man walked up to the line and asked if anyone wanted tickets.  Free tickets.

All the other fans stared silently in polite hesitation.  But Papa P. ripped those babies out of the stranger's hand and booked it for the turnstile.  

Section P.  20 rows above the sideline.  At the most exciting B.C. game I have ever had the privilege to watch.  A crushing defeat of division rival FSU.

Muteness accomplished.  Eat your heart out, early birds.


You can buy yourself a piece of the action at the B.C. Marketplace, a kind of Craigslist of football tickets.