My German wife and I love to go to the Oregon Coast. It’s our favorite vacation destination, despite the fact that the beaches are awful. You see, except for like one or two days per year, Oregon beaches are gray, windy, cold and depressing. There are more rocks leading up to the water than sand, and the sky is the color of a suffocated campfire. The wind is so strong it inverts your umbrella the second you expand it, leaving your skin exposed to frigid drops of rain and sharpened grains of sand, which, at 80 mph, feel exactly like tiny little razor blades slicing the words “go home” into your calves. Our beaches are so depressing, even the seagulls are on antidepressants… just flying in circles, around and around, wondering why they even bother to flap their wings anymore.
But still, there something about all that misery which makes my wife and I feel right at home. For me, it’s that same feeling you get in wintertime; so long as you’re indoors, you’re all warm, comfy and grateful because you aren’t outside being beaten to death by the elements. For my German wife, apparently, it has something to do with fresh air and a feeling of renewal, because she had only this to say about our plans to return to the Oregon Coast for the holidays:
THE WIFE: “I love the beach. It is where the wind blows around my nose.”
Click here to learn more about the term “Denglish.”
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