It's Still Raining? More Mermaid Parade!

Today's poor weather makes this week a tie for the worst weather wise vacation week I've ever taken. It previously was a three way tie between two Long Beach Island weeks with the Harveys and Hoelheins in early 90s, and a June week in 1977 in the St. John's Rugby house in East Quogue behind a big row of bushes on Montauk Highway across the street from the Citgo station with Yvette Baez, Michelle Migliori and Timmy "I'm a Computer Fixer" Crowley.
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In LBI, all nine kids were young and the rain finished a miserable second to a horrific undertow that kept everybody out of the water both weeks. The highlight of the shore trips was putting the kids to bed each night and stealing one hour of silence before we passed out. The men's offers to go the store sounded like parrots, "Need anything? Need anything? Polly want a Pamper?"
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One single afternoon in two weeks, the sun popped out from a bank of clouds for 45 minutes, we went bananas. You would of thought we were a family in church at a Baptist funeral.
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The 1977 week was a lost week of drinking and stinking and whining about the lack of sun and tan. It was cold too. But we played a lot of hide and go seek in the big creepy house, there were many secret deep closets, and we did see "Annie Hall." I couldn't have been with three funnier people so the cabin fever was tolerable.
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This week is now, so it squeaks by the other three rainy duds. But I'd be lying, if I said it's a total loss. I saw Ian Hunter rock out for free on the Hudson River the other night, I cheered the Mermaid Parade in between the rain drops last Saturday at Coney Island, I rode bikes in the rain with Alison when we visited the Little Red Lighthouse, and all importantly I'm not at work. Hip, hip.