Busy, busy, beach

That was the order of my Friday and Saturday. Worked all morning and half the afternoon at the bookstore Friday, then all evening training as a bar-back at the restaurant. I did manage to go out with some friends and see an awesome cover band playing '80s (first song I heard: "Don't Stop Believin') and '90s (second song: "Blister in the Sun," which I thought was '90s until I found that video, saw how '80s the dudes were, and Wiki'd the tune to find out it's from '82. Oops.) down the street before working a function at the restaurant Saturday morning.


^Me. Kinda.

By the time I got out, I was dead on my feet. But it was sunny for the first time in four days -- I'm talking reaaalll warm and nice -- and I hadn't been to the beach all week. Now's the time to note: I'm not the biggest beach person in the world. I love going with my friends in Maine in the summer, but the trek to Old Orchard or Popham is something I only muster up the gusto for once or twice a season. Living a couple minutes walking distance from lapping waves and ultimate relaxation, though, it's hard not to be at least a little bit of a beach person.

The trip to the Ink Well, as the strip of beach closest to me in Oak Bluffs is called, was sweetened by bringing my guitar -- something I was completely giddy about being able to do by moving here. I have no case for the ax, so I walked over jamming like some kind of vagabond. Playing on the beach was the best. The sound of soft surf is the ultimate complement to acoustic strummin', hands down. No imposing silence when you stop playing, only waves rolling in. Mmm.

One of the best parts of the two-hour afternoon on the beach was meeting an islander, Cristina. An early highlight from the chat included, "We're not all crazy," in reference to natives as I explained my frustration with Swindler's Vineyard. She said the whole appearing-laid-back thing is more a characteristic of "down-Islanders," people from Oak Bluffs, Edgartown and Vineyard Haven -- the real tourist hotspots. Up-island (which makes no sense as it's 100 percent to the west, but it's impossible to argue this point) is where the actually laid-back people reside, according to my new friend and instant Martha's Vineyard reference (she's lived here her whole life and will move off-island for the first time to start college at BU in the fall -- there are no colleges on the island, Cape Cod Community College is the only semi-feasible commute). She also confirmed what I'd heard, that the summer population swells from about 20,000 to 100,000, and that she can tell tourists from Vineyarders in a second. Cristina recommended a weekly lobster roll feast at a church on the island. It's $13, but anyone who has been to a baked bean supper in a grange hall in Maine knows traditions like this are priceless. It's on my radar, as are the amazing up-island beaches she described, like Lucy Vincent Beach.

Lastly, Cristina got my now-automatic question for islanders: Have you seen anyone famous here? Her next-door neighbor in West Tisbury is Peter Farrelly, the writer-director-producer of "Dumb and Dumber," "There's Something About Mary," "Me, Myself & Irene," etc. And one time Drew Barrymore was running around in his back yard.

I'm off to start contacting and interviewing 14 sources for three stories for Martha's Vineyard Wedding magazine. Hey, I never guessed I'd write for a wedding magazine, either, but freelancing's freelancing.