The Merits of Relaxation

The reason I sat down to write this was mostly to present a counterpoint to the voices on the Internets regarding Duck Beach, but it melded into something else. Leading up to Memorial Day weekend, I told people that I was going to Duck Beach, which is to say that I would be going to some place in North Carolina's Outer Banks, a popular vacation spot for east coasters. The Duck Beach event has also gained some notoriety as a place where young single LDS adults gather and indulge in a "spring break" of sorts. People responded with (figurative) gasps of astonishment as they realized that they had heard about "this Duck Beach" and many had even seen a certain YouTube video that paints the Duck Beach experience as an extremely superficial and even sketchy environment.

In reality, "Duck Beach" (I didn't actually stay in the town of Duck at all) was a vacation to the beach with friends. About 19 or 20 of us stayed in a large house called Scooby Dune with gender segregated rooms and bathrooms. The logistics of food was highly organized; a couple people bought all the food for a week beforehand, and we all willingly used a signup sheet to determine cooking and cleaning duties. That was the only part that had any organization; for the rest of our stay in Corolla/Whalehead, relaxing and having fun was the prime directive.

Before I went to Duck, I actually tolerated the scathing denunciation of Duck with a bit of humor, and told friends that I would take care to keep my Duck experience worthy of me and my standards of morality and decency. Now that I've been there and back, I'm a little irritated that such generalizations about Duck are even applied widely. Maybe it was because we were a fairly insular group--we came in knowing each other and didn't care to branch out too much--but I didn't experience anything other than fun, friendship, and camaraderie.

Let me share a brief summary of what happened at this year's Duck Beach. I got in late Friday night, ate some pizza, slept on the couch because I didn't want to creep around the house. Woke up on that wonderfully comfy couch and ate a glorious breakfast. Went out to the beach and played soccer. Walked around on said beach and then went back into Scooby Dune to eat food. Went back out to beach and played epic ultimate frisbee, ended up in the ocean several times. Went back to Scooby Dune and ate delicious food. Had impromptu dance party that totally rocked. Watched Hook. Slept. Woke up and went to church. Came back and napped and ate food and... I don't remember, but it wasn't important obviously. Ate large family/Sunday dinner. Did dishes. Did some other stuff? Slept. Woke up, ate glorious breakfast, went to beach. Relaxed. Played football. Played lots of games. Liar's Dice. Ate food. Beach. Sunscreen. More soccer. Somebody got buried in the sand. Return to Scooby and play games. Eat food. Watch movie. Sleep. Wake up. AND SO IT GOES. Until we make an epic sand castle, play more frisbee, more Liar's Dice, and then finally, sadly go home.

My humble contribution to the sand castle. Photo credit to Sarah June.

I don't think I've ever had such a relaxing vacation. Most of my vacations have always been traveling-type vacations--always moving and doing and seeing. I love those vacations. I live for those. But I also found that I live for the beach vacation. It's not really about the beach so much as the people you're with, and the absence of urgency. There was no urgency for anything. If you wanted to have fun, go have fun. If you want to just sit and do nothing, sit and do nothing. If you want to eat, eat. If you want to go hang out with other peeps, go do that. If you want to just hang out w/us, please do. Nbd. If you don't want to go meet new people, please don't. That's how we set up the vacation, and so that's exactly what Duck Beach was for us. All Good Naysayers, Speak Up! or Forever Hold Your Peace!

Bring on Duck Beach 2014.