For a long time, I thought I hated the beach. It turns out that I just hated the Jersey Shore. This is blasphemy coming from a loud-and-proud Jersey girl (born and raised, and I’ll fight anyone who talks trash about my home state).
I didn’t hate the Jersey Shore because it’s full of Bennies (a disparaging term for non-locals who flock to the gorgeous beaches in the summer), of which I am one. Or because of its gym-tan-laundry reputation. Or because sand gets everywhere and is so, so hard to remove from between your toes.
I hated it because there was never any shade, unlike the tree-lined Caribbean oasis of Cemetery Beach in Grand Cayman that I discovered in my twenties or the Ironwood Forest of Waimānalo Beach in O‘ahu that I fell in love with in my thirties.
Since most New Jersey beaches have been stripped of any and all shade trees, you have to bring your own cover. Once you’ve lugged your umbrella up and over the dunes and buried that pole into place, even a minor gust of wind can undo your hard work. There’s nothing like the fear of seeing your umbrella flip sideways and uproot itself to become a deadly projectile, its delicate ribs cracking while people scream in horror.
On a particularly windy beach day two years ago, when everyone else had long since collapsed their canopies, I spied a single, intact umbrella standing proud. That wonderful, rock-solid pillar of shade, my friends, was the beachBUB All-In-One Beach Umbrella System. I pulled out my phone and ordered one on the spot.