the 2008 beachcomber awards

Now that our summer and our beach vacation are - sadly - behind us, it's time to reflect upon the week that was.  The Beachcomber Awards (the "Beachies") honor exemplary performance in a wide variety of beach-related categories.  So without further ado, the envelopes, please.

The Sweeney Todd Award for Unfortunate Pigmentation:  And the Beachie goes to.... Hotrod.  A windy day and spray-on sunscreen make for a dicey proposition under the best of circumstances.  When a windy day hinders the application of spray-on suncsreen to a near albino, the results can be comically splotchy.

The Willis L. Teeter Award for Grocerial Fortitude:  And the Beachie goes to.... Dabysan.  The record will show that Carrie Nation probably made more trips to the grocery store than Daby, but Daby approached his shopping duties with more gusto.  Oh, you like olives?  How about a tub of eight different types?  It's snacks you want?  Well, we could have the jalapeno potato chips or the Fritos Scoops or blue corn tortilla chips - but hey, we're on vacation.  Why choose?

The Tom Joad Award for Culinary Frugality:  And the Beachie goes to.... Emma Peel.  It was only about Tuesday before Emma began pawning off leftovers and attempting to curtail Daby's daily trips to the supermarket.  Even the most creative attempts to use up the food lying around the house - such as ridding ourselves of extra bananas by purchasing ice cream and whipped cream and chopped nuts and fudge - went underappreciated.  As much as we liked to joke about butter sandwiches, the possibility was never realistically far away.

The Matt Drudge Award for Premature Rumor-Mongering:  And the Beachie goes to.... Carrie Nation.  As a member of the early-rising contingent, Carrie provided invaluable yet unsubstantiated daily reports on the beach conditions.  Though the absence or presence of red warning flags would not be confirmed for several hours, Carrie's gossip sheet influenced whether we consumed a leisurely breakfast and hit the beach at eleven-thirty, or whether we scarfed down the morning meal to get out there by eleven.

The George S. Patton Award for Dead Soldiers:  And the Beachie goes to.... Midwest Gal.  Truth be told, the MWG's shoreside beer consumption was probably down this year.  But the image of her in years past relaxing amidst a platoon of emptys has stuck in the minds of the Academy voters.  MWG owns this category.

The Noah Webster Award for Creative Neologisms:  And the Beachie goes to.... Jason.  Jason managed to combine two of society's most beloved concepts when bestowing a title on the previously unnamed dessert.  "Steeler Pie" sounds even better than it tastes, which is no small feat.

The Drew Carey Award for Shameless Midwestern Homerism:  And the Beachie goes to.... Megan.  Megan made Ohio proud with her laudatory proclamations of the superiority of guys from Ohio - much to the chagrin of her East Coast Hipster boyfriend.  It might have been a little uncomfortable if she wasn't right.

The Wil Wheaton Award for Projectile Vomiting:  And the Beachie goes to.... Bernadette.  Bernadette's mystery ailment cut short her beach vacation, but thankfully not by much.  She had to leave early, yes, but only by a couple of hours.  And, also thankfully, she was kind enough to avoid sharing her malady with everyone else.

The Cerberus Award for Tireless Vigilance:  And the Beachie goes to.... Daisy.  With a ferocious bark and an even more ferocious odor, Daisy alerted us to dangers both real and imagined.  Dangers such as the pool and, uh.... that wall over there.

Honorable Mention:  Lisa.

The Joe Lamb, Jr. Award for Lifetime Achievement:  And the Beachie goes to.... Emma Peel.  For years, Emma has taken it upon herself to herd the cats down to the OBX for a beach vacation.  She claims that this year is the last in which she is taking responsibility, which is probably for the best.  Maybe next year we won't have such a shitty house.  I mean, we had to walk almost a hundred yards to the beach access.

The Towel d'Or Grand Jury Prize:  And the Beachie goes to.... Michelle.  That Michelle stayed up at the house for almost all of Wednesday and still won the beach is a testament to her dedication.  She was the first to arrive and the last to leave almost every day - and often by several hours.  She took walks that lasted longer than the rest of us spent on the beach on some days.  It was her beach; we just visited it.