I love watching people put tents up on a wind swept beach. It never gets old and the laughs are simply non-stop. My latest sighting was on Footbridge Beach in Ogunquit, Maine. A beautiful but breezy beach that my wife and I love. We stay at the Gazebo Inn. An absolutely amazing bed and breakfast. My gold standard for hotels. Anyway back to the beach. Their breakfasts’ are off the charts. Sorry. The beach. So a family strolls onto the beach carrying everything you can imagine. They were very, well let’s just say they could have stood to lose a few pounds and maybe hit the gym every now and then. The point being that they, in no way shape or form, had anything to do with the great outdoors. And now of course, they are the proud owners of a brand new tent. Sealed in the box. Never opened. The husband, who eventually proved himself to be extremely inept at tent assembly, was going to attempt to set up this tent on a windy beach. Add to this his lovely wife who carried an adorable newborn in a sling across her shoulders. And a beautiful young daughter of around 7 or 8.
Dad attempts to open the box but is unfortunately thwarted by the steel band-like twenty layers of cellophane tape keeping it sealed. No knife of course, so they start to tear the box to shreds finally get the tent out. Out billows yards and yards of mutli-colored nylon fabric and three, count them, three ridiculously long, jointed, elastic poles. The daughter pitches in only to have dad poke her in the stomach with the poles. “Thanks dad.” The wife is reassembling the torn box and pointing to the pictures telling the husband what it should look like. I don’t know what it looked like on the box, but what this guy was doing with the real thing didn’t resemble anything that I have ever seen.
Ten minutes go by and those poles and yards of fabric still don’t resemble anything that could remotely be considered shelter. This guy lives in a house, for most of the year. What does he know about tents? Finally something that appears to be a tent is up flapping in the breeze. I haven’t seen the box but I’m pretty sure that the picture on it and that tent had little resemblance to each other. In fact, the two of the three tent poles were waving back and forth in the stiff wind looking like huge bug antennae. I don’t know if it was my imagination but I thought my cell service suddenly got better.
The husband must have compared the picture on the box to what he was sitting under and concluded that nope, doesn’t resemble the box. So out he pops, tears the tent down and starts anew. The wife and newborn pick up the tent and begin to put it together; taking directions from the husband who is now looking at the torn box picture. After a few minutes they trade places and the wife begins to point at the picture and shout instructions to the husband. The daughter wisely stays out of range of the tent poles. Don’t forget the wind is blowing at a fair clip.
Finally the tent is up. And NO it’s not. Down goes the tent. The husband now sits amid all of these poles and nylon and pulls out his phone. Then he starts to open all of the zippers on the tent to see if something is hidden under the flaps. Finding nothing of value he abandons the zippers and starts in with the tent poles again. Third time’s the charm and up goes the tent. Finally figured out the little black tabs attached the tent to the pole.
Eureka! The tent is up and my cell service is excellent.
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