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  • Epic Universe Part 2 – The Middle

    Epic Universe Part 2 – The Middle

    Stepping out of the warp pipe into the Mushroom Kingdom, the day truly began to level up. What had started as a long stretch of lines and heat was suddenly transformed into something electric. The colors, sounds, and movement around us made it feel like we had stepped into the game itself. For us, this wasn’t just another attraction—it was personal. Video game collecting has been part of our bond since the beginning, starting with an original NES we bought on eBay with Super Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt.

    The layout felt like a labyrinth, but I didn’t have to worry about directions. My son was a professional guide, already familiar with every turn from months of watching videos.

    The Donkey Kong Mine Cart had a posted wait time of 45 minutes, with the line stretching back to the entrance. The single-rider line looked empty, so we made the executive call to try it. Our thinking was that we’d knock out two of the three non–Express Pass rides early. It turned out to be a mistake. Because the vehicles seat two, single riders only get pulled in when there’s an odd-numbered party. We ended up waiting just over 45 minutes. The worst part was the animatronic Cranky Kong repeating the same line for the entire time: “Noisy Nincompoops.” By the end, that phrase was burned into my brain.

    I wasn’t expecting much from Donkey Kong, but it surprised me. Looking down, the track makes no sense, which makes the ride fun and exhilarating. It’s a mid-level coaster with plenty of flair, and when we got off, we both laughed and said the same thing: that was way better than expected.

    Leaving the Mushroom Kingdom behind, we entered the Monster area, Dark Universe. It was midday and the sun was blazing, but the land still pulled us in with swirling mist and eerie details at every turn.

    We went straight to Monsters Unchained: The Frankenstein Experiment. The first time we used our Express Pass, but we came back twice more to ride it again in the regular line. This was our ride, our jam, and in our opinion the best ride in the park. From the queue to the artwork and music, the immersion is on another level. I thought the IP might feel tired, but Universal gave it real respect and delivered for both longtime fans and first-timers. The ride is continuous like Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey, so the line moves quickly. Once inside, it’s pure brilliance. The graphics set a new standard, and the animatronics even surpass Disney. It’s an absolute triumph.

    After that, we saved Curse of the Werewolf for later. It’s a fine little coaster, but short. I usually get dizzy with spinning, but this one was more than manageable.

    Next was Stardust Racers, Universal’s homage to the legendary Dueling Dragons. I’d always regretted missing it, so this felt like redemption. Two coasters race side by side, dipping and weaving with breathtaking speed. We rode the right side first, then came back at night for the left. Both were incredible, but racing under the lights at night was unforgettable.

    From there we went to How to Train Your Dragon: Isle of Berk. By then we were hungry. We passed on the famous Mac and Cheese Cones at Spit Fyre Grill—the heat made them less appealing—and went for bowls instead. My son had Stoick’s Steak Bowl and I had Valka’s Vegan Bowl. Both were tasty and surprisingly good for quick service.

    By about 4:30 or 5 p.m., we had completed nearly every ride. Ready for another meal and a break, we ducked into the Oak and Star Tavern. We found a cozy booth for two, ordered slow-smoked brisket and BBQ jackfruit sandwiches, and enjoyed the air conditioning. The food hit the spot, but the real gift was sitting down and catching our breath.

    I was fading, but my son stayed strong. I asked if finishing everything meant we could leave a little early. He just said NO. That settled it—we were staying to see the park in all its glory, both day and night.

  • Death of Charlie Kirk

    Death of Charlie Kirk

    In American History X, Edward Furlong’s character says, “It’s always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can’t top it, steal from them and go out strong.”

    That line led me to think of Michael Scott in The Office when he says, “Well, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.”

    The visceral feel of a deep hurt encapsulated my entire being. I wasn’t able to do much yesterday after I heard the initial news. I had to go to a meeting and when I returned home, I learned that he had succumbed to his injuries and died.

    I saw the actual shot, which a reporter described as something you would see if they had created a movie about an assassination—the textbook image of a kill shot.

    And just like the uncontrolled flow of blood from his neck, my body lost its ability to cope and I wept. Tears poured gently down my face.

    My family was understanding, but not completely. They couldn’t fully grasp why their father was so deeply hurt, affected, and cut by this tragedy.

    I’ve had to sit down and think about why this death has shaken me so greatly. I was a fan of Charlie Kirk. I appreciated his viewpoint, his faith, his fortitude, and his courage to debate. How many of us, when we hold a viewpoint, say nothing? How many of us cower in fear of the mob, of loss, of financial blowback that could threaten our livelihoods?

    He was a real-life Alex P. Keaton from Family Ties: the young upstart who believed in Ronald Reagan, freedom, capitalism, American greatness, and a great big beautiful tomorrow.

    When I went on social media, I saw another side: people who were happy, joyous, even celebrating. The chickens coming home to roost. The gleeful nods of those who felt that a cosmic wave of justice had delivered its just desserts.

    It reminded me of another quote from Goodfellas. Before Joe Pesci’s character shoots Spider, he’s mocked and someone asks, “What is the world coming to?” After shooting him dead, he answers chillingly, “That’s what the fuck the world is coming to.”

    That’s where we are now. We are not able to communicate. We are tribal. We are animals. We objectify, dehumanize, and then kill one another.

    Charlie knew how dangerous a lack of dialogue could be. He once said, “When people stop talking, really bad stuff starts. When marriages stop talking, divorce happens. When civilization stops talking, civil war ensues.”

    He made his life about speaking up and speaking out. Going to campuses and engaging the youth of America in dialogue and debate.

    He had a viewpoint and an opinion.

    It’s not just that he was killed—that cut deeply enough. It was the absolute joy people expressed in his death. The frenzied glee of those salivating at the demise of a human being, of a husband and father.

    Social media is filled with one-line justifications for any heinous act. The excuses for their jubilation were absurd: Didn’t he say this? Didn’t he support that? And the most damning, his statement:

    “I think it’s worth to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the Second Amendment to protect our other God-given rights.”

    Yes, he did say that freedom has a cost—a cost that he ironically had to pay himself.

    But where is the humanity? Where is the empathy? Why can’t we accept that people can hold different opinions? Why not ask why they believe what they believe instead of screaming at them, hitting them, or murdering them?

    I am angry. Angry because I can’t fully articulate. I am tired of being reasonable and level-headed. Inside there is just a monster of pure emotion, rage searching for release. Take a breath, you know better.

    Justice? There is no justice. Not because someone won’t be caught, punished, or even executed. There is no justice because you cannot undo what has been done. You cannot bring this young man back. His wife and kids will never see their father or feel his embrace again. He cannot be replaced with like kind or quality. He was special, unique, one of a kind. President Trump called him “even Legendary, Charlie Kirk.” And we know that legends never die.

    When asked on a podcast how he wanted to be remembered, Charlie responded:

    “I wanna be remembered for courage, for my faith. That would be the most important thing. The most important thing is my faith in my life.”

    So now, as a new day begins, we still feel the loss. The tears still come. But I also feel the weight of his words. In the final scene of Spartacus, as the hero is silenced on the cross, his men stand and shout, “I’m Spartacus!” They refuse to let his mission die with him.

    Maybe the way forward is not just to grieve his death, but to take up that mission. If Charlie’s voice is silenced, then ours must grow louder.

    I am Charlie Kirk.

  • Epic Universe Part 1 – The Beginning

    Epic Universe Part 1 – The Beginning

    This was the main point of the trip, a 14-day pass with just one day reserved for Epic Universe. My son had been preparing for this since the moment he found out we were going, watching an endless stream of YouTube videos from creators who make it their job to share every detail of how to do the park right.

    We were told Wednesday was the best day to go. It turned out to be one of the busiest. I’m convinced it was because everyone else was watching the same recommendations. Later we learned it was also the last day of summer break for Florida kids, which explained a lot.

    We woke at 7:00 a.m., almost like a travel day. The night before, we had booked a car service for the short 2.8-mile ride to the park, which cost $25 with tip. That expense was nothing compared to the $500 I had spent on Express Passes. These allowed us to skip the line once on 8 of the 11 attractions. If we hadn’t used them, I could have asked for a refund, but I knew better. My son knew better too, teasing me that there was no chance I’d ever stand in a line that long.

    We were dressed and ready and arrived at 8:15 a.m. to join the initial line before the 9:00 opening. My son wanted us there early so we could hit the rides quickly once inside. He was right. This would be a day of lines. One kid later humorously muttered, “Epic Universe, more like Epic Lines.” By 8:20 we were already waiting in the sun, that relentless Florida sun that hunts you down. At 8:30 I was sweating and I knew this was going to be a long one. The day would stretch into 14 hours.

    The staff did a good job raising spirits with countdowns and encouragement. When the security gates opened, we were moved forward but then held again at the ticket checkpoints. Eventually we were corralled into two groups, each pointed toward one side of the park. Our target was the Harry Potter Ministry of Magic ride, the new flagship attraction. This was the crème de la crème, the Cadillac of rides for the park. From watching the app, we knew it was always going to have a long wait and that it broke down often, so it had to be first.

    My son, quick and athletic, made his way halfway up in the pack while I was the big old lumbering dad on the side, trying to keep pace with families and kids sprinting forward. By the time we reached the Ministry, I was several rows behind. Thankfully, he gave up his hard-earned position and waited for me so we could continue together. Once inside, we were funneled into yet another queue, the last one before the ride itself.

    The silver lining was that we were in a good position and the sweet AC gave us relief. By then it was 9:15 a.m. and the ride wouldn’t open until 10:00. It felt like waiting in several lines just to avoid waiting in line. Still, the atmosphere carried that first-day-of-school energy. Everyone was buzzing, and the excitement was contagious. We sat, walked, and waited with our new-found line friends eagerly anticipating and taking in all the queue aesthetics we could handle.

    At 10:05 we were finally on the ride. It was incredible, as most Universal rides are, but it wasn’t quite the earth-shattering experience the hype had led us to expect. We both felt like there should have been more—bigger thrills, something novel, an unexpected twist to earn all that buzz. Unfazed and happy to check off the big ride we joyfully continued onward, not knowing that wow moment would come later with another ride.

    After leaving the Ministry, we walked through the Parisian area. The whole park was stunning, with every section and portal pulling you into its own fantasy setting. When you look up, you see the buildings towering, layered with detail. Every corner seemed to hold hidden Easter eggs, honoring the original material while letting the designers and engineers leave their own mark.

    Our next destination was one of the most anticipated rides of the day. The Super Mario portal was something special for us. Video game collecting has been part of our bond since the beginning of our adventures together, so this was more than just another attraction. Watching my son step into that warp pipe and emerge in the Mushroom Kingdom was a moment I’ll never forget. Suddenly, we were surrounded by the best pieces of Super Mario Brothers brought to life.

    This is where Part Two of our day begins, and where things really started to warp to the next level.

  • Restaurant Review: Mythos – Universal Studios Islands of Adventure

    Restaurant Review: Mythos – Universal Studios Islands of Adventure

    Mythos claims the title of “Best Theme Park Restaurant in the World,” a banner proudly draped across the carved stone mountain that houses its massive Greek god heads. A beautifully cascading waterfall guards the magic inside, and honestly, I don’t disagree. Mythos isn’t just good for a theme park restaurant; it’s one of my favorite dining experiences anywhere. For me, it’s the pimpest, flyest, hardcore, gangsta-ass theme park restaurant in da world to paraphrase Ice T.

    Right away, approaching the entrance, you’re impressed by the immersive theming. It feels like they almost built a ride inside but decided to take a lunch break instead and then just kept serving food. The Lost Continent region of Islands of Adventure, steeped in Greek mythology and ancient lore, has always been one of my favorite places in the park. The architecture, the stories, the atmosphere all hit the nostalgia nerve for me.

    On this trip, we ate at Mythos four times and were happy every single time. My son mixed it up with his entrées, but I stayed loyal to mine and each time, I was just as excited to order it. In August, the Florida heat is brutal (who knew), but Mythos keeps it icy cold inside. Some reviewers online actually dock points for this, claiming the restaurant is too cold. To those critics, I say: may Poseidon sink your next cruise and drag you to the depths with the Kraken himself.

    The interior matches the grandeur of the exterior. Stone-carved walls, twisting paths, soaring ceilings. There are no bad seats. We have sat in the middle, by the water, near the entrance. All were good. The middle section with its expansive view and carved details is my favorite.

    This trip we scored a center booth next to the forever-spouting fish fountain. In the past, our favorite server was Madison, though this time we did not link up. Still, every server we had was fantastic. Eric, Ewa, Javiar, Amy. Mythos must be slipping ambrosia into the staff drinks, because everyone was consistently friendly, positive, and fun.

    Starters

    We went adventurous and tried almost all the appetizers: Mediterranean Lamb Flatbread, Mezze Platter, Lamb Hummus, and Spanakopita Dip. All were very good, leaning heavily on pita variations. My son and I turned it into a game, could we spread the dip in perfect ratio to match the bread. A true challenge. I am happy to say we were damn near perfect all trip. Two pimps spreading that creamy dip across each sexy slice of pita like two Greek lamb herders walking into a disco bazaar.

    Entrées

    My son rotated between the Beef Loin Medallions and the Pad Thai (Little Spice). Both are consistent winners. The medallions cooked medium-rare with a red wine reduction are a family favorite. The Pad Thai holds up too, especially considering we have some excellent Thai spots back in Connecticut. It is not a novelty, it is genuinely good.

    My go-to was the Souvlaki Couscous Bowl with pan-seared tofu. This dish is a gem: za’atar spiced couscous, cucumbers, marinated artichokes, Kalamata olives, chickpeas, feta, tzatziki, tahini. All perfectly balanced. Add a little Sriracha on the side and it is complete. On vacation, it is rare to find something this healthy and satisfying. Mythos delivers the goods.

    Dessert

    We only had room once, but we tried the Cinnamon Bread Pudding with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce. The cinnamon cuts the sweetness just enough that I convinced myself it was practically a health food, like eating celery. The warm bread pudding with the cold ice cream and caramel drizzle is a solid contender against the Bread Pudding from Disney’s Polynesian Ohana Dinner, which is one of our favorites.

    Final Verdict: 9.45/10
    If the Greek gods took a vacation, this is where they would eat. Mythos delivers atmosphere, service, and food that rise above theme park dining and land somewhere closer to Olympus.

  • Senior Year

    Senior Year

    It feels like just yesterday we were all standing outside, putting you on the bus for that very first day of school. So many pictures, so many memories. The hustle and bustle of getting you ready, us ready, with grandparents, aunts, and uncles all coming by to wish you well.

    And now, today, you left at 7 a.m., driving yourself to school. No crowd, no fanfare. Our group was cut last year, and that loss still runs deep. The house was quieter. Just another Monday morning—except it wasn’t. This is senior year. Our little dancer’s last year of high school.

    The speed of it all is staggering. How quickly these years have flown. Memories flash through my mind like a reel, pulsing, unstoppable. I think back to my own senior year, how I got lazy when I should have gotten busy. I don’t remember my first day as clearly as I should, but I remember enough to know it was good, though not great.

    Now I see her stepping into this season, and everything comes at once. It’s like a midlife review—seeing her life, seeing mine, both layered together. I found old clips from my father’s phone, small pieces of the good times he thought were worth recording. They make me realize how little we actually carry with us or keep. These quiet times of reflection cut deep, like a single raindrop that swells into a flood of emotions. I brace myself against its raw power, but it breaks over me and carries me away in the current.

    I’ve made peace with that. We’re not meant to remember everything in crystal detail. If we did, we’d never be able to step into a new day. Life only gives us enough to build from, enough to grow. Every moment is preserved somewhere, even if not consciously. We are part of the endless dance of life—Lila. None of it is wasted.

    That’s why nostalgia is tricky. We try to hold on to things as if they’ll slip away, but nothing is really lost. I believe when our time here ends, we’ll move differently, through time and memory, able to revisit, replay, relive whenever we want. Which means the more important task is simply this: create memories worth reliving. Push when you can, because you always can.

    Watching my kids in these formative years makes me remember how unsteady I was back then. I wish I could hand them the confidence I have now, the freedom from fear. At the time, everything felt so heavy, as if one wrong move mattered forever. But now I see it didn’t. Fear was wasted energy. I wish they could feel that already. Maybe they can’t. Maybe it’s just part of the process, like any hero making their way into the world. It’s a gift that can’t be bestowed, only earned through the walk of life.

    What I do know is this: my little girl is a senior. My baby is grown. My wife feels it deeply; I do too. But I’m steadied by the truth that every moment counts, that nothing disappears, and that all of it is worth carrying forward. This year will go quickly, but it will not be wasted. It will be lived, and it will be remembered.

    Olivia, I hope you feel the weight of this year, but not as a burden. I hope you see it as a gift. Try new things. Take chances. Don’t let fear hold you back. The truth is, it doesn’t matter if everything works out perfectly. What matters is that you live it fully. You must fail in order to succeed, and I hope you fail gloriously, then rise again with the courage I know you have to keep moving forward.

    You are ready for this moment. You are stepping into the next part of your life, and I couldn’t be prouder. Every day ahead of you is another memory in the making, another chapter worth writing. So live it in a way that makes you smile when you look back. We’ll be smiling too, every step of the way. Forever and always your biggest fans.

  • Review: Maggie McFly’s – Brookfield, CT

    Review: Maggie McFly’s – Brookfield, CT

    The flying lady who came out of nowhere, scouring the local countryside for the best foods and airdropping them into your mouth. I’m guessing she’s a tribute to Amelia Earhart, maybe Dale? The concept is simple: create a menu with as many meal and drink choices as possible, overwhelm your patrons with options, which then slows down every aspect of the dining experience, but somehow it works.

    I’ve been a regular at Maggie’s for a long time, ever since the first one opened in Middlebury. My go-to was always Southbury since it was closest to my office and easy to reach.

    The Brookfield spot is one of their nicest, right on Federal Road. We are in the area more often now with family and our son playing baseball at Allstars up the road. They clearly invested in making it a beautiful space, even if the outside view is the shadow of the forever-busy Costco façade. We came on a perfect 80-degree Saturday, looking for something outside or at least close to the summer fresh air.

    We arrived at 3:30 PM. It was not crowded. Eating earlier avoids the dinner rush and gives my food time to settle. We walked past the front desk and found a booth in the bar that let the warm breeze from outside reach us as we watched the end of the Yankee game on the big screen TVs. The rest of our party joined shortly after.

    Anyone who has been here knows the menu is massive. My mother-in-law joked to the waiter, “Has anyone ever said this menu is too big?” He replied that someone must have, because it used to be 46 pages and is now down to 25.

    Having been here so many times, I was almost sure I would get the Farmer’s Grain Bowl. Grilled chicken, quinoa and brown rice, carrots, sunflower seeds, pistachio, cucumbers, apples, feta, scallions, maple-roasted sweet potatoes, dried cranberries, and lime cilantro dressing. I love healthier options like this, and it is hard to find a place that offers them and does it well.

    I started flipping through the menu and saw other contenders. Fresh Roasted Turkey Dinner. Chicken Burrito. Tuna Poke Bowl. I kept going back and forth, then hearing what other people were ordering, until I completely glitched out and went with the Cajun Jambalaya. It’s a wonder, with such a vast range of choices, if the kitchen could really get it right.

    For appetizers we ordered the Giant Pretzel, Fried Pickles, and my wife’s seasonal lobster bisque in a bread bowl. I didn’t set my expectations high and my only hope was that the pretzel came out hot. To my surprise, it was perfect. Warm and textured on the outside, buttery soft and chewy inside. One of the best I have ever had. The beer-flavored cheese sauce was outstanding. The fried pickles were also excellent, and the lobster bisque was rich and flavorful. Even the bread from the bowl was worth eating, not just a throwaway vessel like most places.

    Entrée expectations were high. My Cajun Jambalaya delivered. The seafood was tasty, well-seasoned, and cooked properly. A big win after coming up short on seafood at the Jersey Shore. My wife’s lemon chicken was grilled perfectly and full of flavor. My son went with the turkey dinner, a classic comfort food choice.

    Normally we would have left after that, but the first two rounds were so good we decided on dessert. We went with an Oreo milkshake and a round of sundaes. We asked for a small sundae, but our waitress Casey, who was fantastic, told us it was a big one with multiple scoops and offered to split it into two cups. I told her I would just share my wife’s, but when the desserts came, she gave me my own cup anyway. That small gesture made me feel like a little big man filled with glee.

    We paired dessert with decaf cappuccinos, which arrived wrong. A food runner tried to convince us they were small-quantity cappuccinos served in large cups. After too many cappuccinos and too many bad Al Pacino movies, we were not buying it. Casey came back and returned with visually stunning, properly sized coffees.

    Maggie’s is improving in both food quality and overall dining experience. The bathrooms were very clean and orderly, which always says a lot about the whole establishment. This visit felt like a smooth flight from start to finish. We will be back to see where Maggie lands next.

    Final Verdict: 8.75/10

  • Review: The Jersey Shore – Diamond Beach, NJ (Part 2: Restaurants & Eats)

    Review: The Jersey Shore – Diamond Beach, NJ (Part 2: Restaurants & Eats)

    A make-or-break vacation can all come down to just one thing: the food. Unfortunately, the restaurants we went to were all just fine—mediocre, sufficient, or blah. I had to work hard to remember what I ate and where, since the experience faded quickly from my mind after each meal.

    To be fair, there were some nice features, locations, or standout points, but we always have to return to the food. I was excited to get into some amazing seafood, especially considering how close we were to the ocean.

    Everywhere you look, you see fishing boats, but I honestly don’t know if they’re catching anything or just permanently docked to set the aesthetic. Maybe this is just Jersey fishing. It’s not the same as getting your seafood from the best spots. Maybe “buying local” just means buying from a coastline that’s been beat up and picked over.

    Here are the spots we hit and my quick takes:

    The Lobster House
    One of the well-known hot spots for regular vacationers with homes in the area. I had shrimp scampi over rice. The shrimp were good, but there was nothing memorable about the yellow rice it came with.

    They did have good bread served with butter, and I managed to swap out the salad for a baked potato. I doctored it up with the same drawn brown butter, and that turned into a table-wide butter fest. Everyone started adding it to their food, and it made everything better.

    They don’t put prices on the online menu, which is a faux pas for me. And portion size for what you pay was poor. We did enjoy the crew-style uniforms the servers were wearing.

    Verdict: 6.5/10
    Butter is better.

    Ugly Mug, Cape May
    One of the many classic Irish pub-style joints along the Cape May restaurant and shopping district walking path. Location is the key here—it’s one of the first spots you come across, which is the main reason we stopped in.

    Food and service were fine. I had the Bavarian pretzel and grilled cheese with tomato and bacon. Everything came out chilled, mostly because they keep massive fans running, which is great for staying cool but terrible for keeping food warm.

    I was really craving that grilled cheese, but it came out cold and missing the tomato. Big miss.

    Verdict: 5/10

    Duffinetti’s Restaurant & Lounge
    This was the most interesting and fun dinner spot. The main draw? Lounge singers.

    Edy, the male singer, was my favorite. He had a Ray Romano type of delivery with dry humor and wit. My son and his friend got pulled into the show for a patriotic rendition of “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood, waving flags on stage. Gina, who only performs occasionally since she’s a full-time hairdresser, also held her own.

    I was excited to give seafood one last try and ordered the broiled seafood platter. Huge disappointment. Quantity, quality, and presentation were sparse, undercooked, and sad.

    Luckily, my family came to the rescue and offered bites of their meals, which looked way better and had way more food.

    Verdict: 6/10
    Higher score for the lounge singers.

    The Crab House, 2 Mile Landing
    This place was hopping. The first night we tried, it was way too busy to even bother, so we came back on Thursday. There are technically two restaurants—Two Mile and The Crab House—but only The Crab House was open.

    The big draw is the location. Tons of nooks and crannies throughout the restaurant and even a docked boat you can eat on while watching the sunset.
    I enjoyed watching the operation run like a well-oiled machine. Servers, runners, and bussers moving in harmony to serve a big, hungry crowd.

    After a week of seafood, I opted for a veggie burger. It was very good and homemade, but came with a gluten-free bun that was just miserable—falling apart and full of resentment. I should’ve asked for a regular bun.

    Verdict: 7/10

    Every night on the island, we found ourselves at an ice cream parlor. The restaurants all offered desserts, but since they were all pretty fair, we didn’t feel the need to extend our time or risk a mediocre dessert.

    It just felt right—the ocean breeze, warm summer air—you’re supposed to be eating some kind of frozen milk with sugar and candied treats.

    We hit up several different locations including Duffer’s Restaurant and Homemade Ice Cream Parlor, Harbor Life Golf and Ice Cream, and Kohr Brothers Frozen Custard.

    The winner for me was the simple, easygoing Harbor Life Golf. Ice cream is just a side hustle for this thriving mini golf spot, right on the left as you arrive in the Diamond Beach area. But the quality of the ice cream, fair pricing, and short wait times made it the best choice.

    Enjoying our last cone on Thursday night at Harbor Life, I tried to soak in everything around me. The warm summer night. The salty dew of ocean air. I looked around at my family, each of us doing our own thing but fully together.

    This four-night vacation didn’t blow us away with five-star dining or bucket-list experiences, but it gave us something better: our time together.

    I’m so thankful for it and even more thankful for the people I got to share it with.

  • Review: The Jersey Shore – Diamond Beach, NJ (Part 1: Hotel & Vibe)

    Review: The Jersey Shore – Diamond Beach, NJ (Part 1: Hotel & Vibe)

    What can be said about the Jersey Shore? For better or worse, my impression was shaped early on by a little MTV show called Jersey Shore. I thought it was a carnival side-show hookup spot for young Italians trying to catch every survivable STD before summer ended.

    My first trip down didn’t really change that view. I had to come back a few times to get my mind right. We went to Wildwood Crest—Exit 0—the very end of the Garden State Parkway, the end of the line. We stayed in the Diamond Beach area, a tiny sliver of shoreline just before Cape May.

    After going over the iconic E-ZPass bridge, then an inlet stretch or two, you make your way into a different mindset. It’s the kind of place where the road is policed by the Jersey Gods who nobody dares defy. The speed limit is 25, and everyone drives 25 or less. I spent a week there and only saw one police SUV. What kind of law-abiding madness is this? I felt like the Outlaw Josey Wales doing 30, just waiting for the Wildwood PD to swarm in.

    Driving 24 mph, we arrived at Icona Diamond Beach, a boutique hotel that had once been problematic during my first visit. They’ve since transformed it into something completely new. The core of what it was is still there, but this lipstick made the pig completely lovable and livable for our 5-day excursion.

    The rooms, I believe, are all suites. Ours was nicely appointed, though the bedroom area was tight. My wife and I had to do the boardwalk shuffle to get past each other, and sharing one bathroom with four people gets tricky as the kids grow. Thankfully, our daughter stayed with her Mima and Aunt, which helped.

    Still, the tight quarters sparked some memories—back to earlier trips when the kids were little and the space didn’t feel quite so cramped. That wave of nostalgia hit hard. How quickly it all moves. How every age holds something magnificent. I tried to store it all away on that mental shelf where the best moments live, while quietly dreading how much slips away with time.

    The hallway was a long run down the length of the hotel, and the pattern made me feel like I was at the Overlook Hotel in The Shining. There are historical photos lining the hallway, and I was looking for a party with Jack Nicholson at the beach with that wild Joker smile.

    The hotel employs young people from all over the world, it seems. The staff feels more like they would on a Caribbean island than in New Jersey.

    After breakfast, we’d make a quick visit back to the room to get ready for the day. The walk to the beach is great. It’s a fair distance from the hotel to umbrella city. Once you get to the end of the composite deck walkway that runs adjacent to the beach bar, I flip my flops into the air and plant my feet in the hot, warm sand. It seems like they brush it out each night, creating a fluffy step for me each day.

    I enjoy the little walk and feel the hot sun on my face, causing me to squint like Clint Eastwood staring down an adversary in any Wild West exploit.

    The staff helps you set up any number of chairs, lounges, umbrellas, and towels you need for the day. I’m always a fan of the efficiency in getting this done, complete with their cordless power drill to dig out a place for the umbrellas each day.

    Then we set up our chairs and sit. We sit and enjoy the all-excellence that is going to the beach. The warm air, constantly stirring and flowing over your body. The sounds of summer—fun, seagulls, kids, cocktails, mocktails and waves crashing forever. The shells and sand being turned into fine elegance, millennium after millennium, as the circular waves crash down and out.

    It’s always so amazing how quickly time can move and how tired you can get doing nothing all day. It doesn’t feel the same as sitting at home and watching shows that leave you deflated. A day at the beach leaves you feeling invigorated, closer to God, and with a sense of accomplishment. I don’t know what was accomplished, but I felt like I had put in a day of work.

    Vacation work.

    Sitting around with my family and two stowaways that joined us on our trip, I felt renewed under the energy of the plasmatic sun. Taking time to enjoy this flow of time, surrounded by the people that I love. Thinking of the people that I’ve lost and inviting them to join us.

    I didn’t expect to fall for the Jersey Shore, but somewhere between the wind, the waves, and watching my family lounge in the sun, it got me. It’s funny how doing nothing can leave you feeling so full. We didn’t conquer anything. We didn’t need to. We just showed up, stuck our toes in the sand, stayed present and let the days take us.

    Final Verdict:  8.15/10  (Aruba Light)