The weather forecast was perfect: sunny and clear, with temperatures in the low to mid 60s. Perfect weather to be lazy and sleep in late. Good thought, but isnt it amazing how your body can have completely different ideas than your mind? It shouldnt be too hard to guess that I was up and ready to go by 7:00 that beautiful Saturday morning. So much for sleeping in late! Thinking about it, though, I realized that I had experienced this type of phenomenon before. Havent we all? Remember elementary school? Somehow your body knew the difference between a school day and the weekend. Monday through Friday, your mother would practically have to drag you out of bed, dress you in your "school clothes" and spoon feed you breakfast, while you kept muttering "Just five more minutes, Mom". But on Saturday, look out! You woke up at the crack of dawn, were dressed and out the door before the alarm clock ever had the chance to sound. At first, I thought that this phenomenon was due to the kids version of the "biological clock": be sluggish five mornings in a row, then be hyperkinetic on the next two. That explanation may provide some of the answer, but not all of it. How do you explain that "up and atem" behavior on holidays and summer vacations? And what about those infamous "Teacher Inservice Days"? Those were the days that the teachers went to school, but none of the kids went (not to be confused with "Senior Hook Day"). There was no rhyme or reason as to how often those days were scheduled, though usually they got closer together as the school year progressed. Yet a kids body always knew, and always made sure that not a precious moment of a "day off" was wasted.
On Saturday morning last week, I was headed to downtown Rehoboth Beach. The ocean block of Rehoboth Avenue was blocked off for a Mini Grand Prix, a fundraiser for the Arthritis Foundation. Now Im not a big race car fan, but heck, these werent big race cars. They were LITTLE race cars! Plus I do know a little bit about NASCAR racing. I know that Jeff Gordon drives a white car with a big "42" painted on it, that he uses Quaker Oil (isnt that a clever commercial he has on television?), and that "People" magazine just named him one of this years 50 Most Beautiful People. Oh yeah, and I think that he won this years Daytona 500, too. Wow, I know more about racing than I thought! Anyway, the Mini Grand Prix has been held for several years now, but this year was its first in Rehoboth Beach. The course was laid out near the Bandstand, with rows of tires marking the course. When I arrived at 7:3.0. am, the first qualifying heats were being run. Winners of the qualifying heats would get the best pole positions for the actual race. I guess that some pole positions are better than others, but I must admit that the whole thing sounds kinda uncomfortable to me. There were four entries in each qualifying race. To win the race, a team must complete a certain number of laps around the course and must change drivers a certain number of times during the race. That turned out to be the funniest part of the event, watching the drivers get in and out of those little cars! Actually, one of the cars was driven by a couple of real clowns. "Happy-Go-Lucky", the official pace car of the Mini Grand Prix, was loaded down with two joyful clowns who kept the event from becoming too competitive. However, the day did end with a Grand Prize winner being named. Congratulations to the team from Brighton Suites Hotel for a job well done and a race well run!
After the Grand Prix, I wandered up to the Boardwalk, and stumbled onto a volleyball tournament on the beach. Not literally, of course, because I would never walk off the edge of the Boardwalk and ensnare myself in a volleyball net (or worse!) Volleyball courts were set up on the beach along the length of the Boardwalk, and even this early on a Saturday morning, volleyball players were already out there, spiking and rotating. Hmmm, that sounds rather uncomfortable, too... almost like the pole positions at the Mini Grand Prix. I think that well stop right there with that line of thought!
Further down the Boardwalk, I discovered a rummage sale being sponsored by the Village Improvement Association. I wandered between the tables, and marveled at the types of things that were for sale. No, I didnt see any black velvet paintings of Elvis Presley, but I saw some things that were very close. Very scary. Personally, I would be embarrassed to try and sell some of those things. I would be embarrassed to admit that I actually ever owned some of that stuff. Is it worth showing your castoffs to the community, in the hopes of getting 50 cents or a dollar? I wonder. I saw a friend of mine there (for his protection, I wont mention any names) who was selling, among other things, a cassette tape called "Rap Christmas Carols". Im a music lover myself, but RAP CHRISTMAS CAROLS?!? You gotta be kidding! To my friends credit, the tape was still in its original cellophane wrapper, so obviously he never opened it or played it (thank goodness). I doubt that he was able to sell it. Now that Ive mentioned the tape here, Ill probably find it underneath my Christmas tree next year. And you know what that means...Ill see you at the Rummage Sale next year and boy, do I have a tape for you!
Glen C. Pruitt, a regular contributor to LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, is the Executive Director of SCAC, the Sussex County AIDS Committee.
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5/16/97 Issue. Copyright 1997 by CAMP Rehoboth, Inc. All rights reserved.