Summer stress on the coast? Here are some ways to try and get relief: Humor
As we move into the high season on the coast, I can feel the onset of systemic summer stress, supplemented by pandemic residue and rising political temperatures.
For some reason, the recent reappointment of the current chair of the Planning & Zoning Commission for another three-year term has done little to alleviate my anxiety.
So, to relax, I tried playing disc golf on the newly refurbished course in Cape Henlopen State Park. After a few rounds, I concluded, like Mark Twain, that “golf [even with the addition of a frisbee] is a good walk, spoiled.”
I joined the Delaware Pinball Collective, but decided that manipulating those flippers caused more tension than the antics of a certain namesake dolphin that I remember from my childhood.
And finally, I engaged in little “herping,” not to be confused with "birding,” at Silver Lake in Rehoboth, but lost interest when it became abundantly clear that turtles and tortoise-like creatures were so much slower than hares that it stressed me out.
Clearly, I needed a more active approach to my issue.
When I learned that Lefty’s Alley & Eats had right-handed, as well as left-handed, axes for throwing, I was all in. What a great way to relieve stress, I thought. Following some elementary instruction, I reared back and gave my axe a heave.
Do you remember Ed Ames’ tomahawk toss on the old Johnny Carson late night show, and how it found its way to the full-body target’s nether regions? My throw was equally that far off the mark. It’s a good thing that my wife was wearing closed-toe shoes.
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Chastened, but not defeated, I headed to Salisbury’s Angry Axe & Rage Room to take advantage of the latter. Perhaps a bit far to travel if you’re really angry, but well within range, so to speak, if you’ve have had low-grade anxiety for the better part of two and a half years.
The so-called “rage rooms” are outfitted with glassware, TVs, appliances and other objects begging to be smashed. I was happy to oblige. All that was missing was an old car to which I could take a sledgehammer.
I know I am not the only Coasty who has been grappling with stress and anxiety. Just think of the girls lacrosse team at Cape Henlopen High. In each of the past dozen years, successive waves of Lady Laxers have taken the state championship. Could they do it again this year? No pressure, right?
Well, as sure as the night follows the day, or subdivisions follow farms, the Cape squad crushed the Tatnall Tatnallians, as I like to call them, by the score of 16-4, thus securing their 13th title in a row. Amazing! The Class of 2022 could now relax.
Charter fishing boat captains are another coastal group that suffers from seasonal stress, and we’re not talking about the pressure to find the most productive fishing grounds.
What truly frightens these maritime captains are bananas, yes, bananas, and the fear that one of their guests will unwittingly bring a banana or two on board.
It is a well-known belief that bananas scare away fish. This is not just another wild conspiracy theory gone mainstream, or one that has inadvertently entered the Gulf Stream.
When the fish aren’t biting, the captains will bet dollars to doughnuts (the latter apparently have no effect on fish) that there is a banana somewhere on the boat.
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Stories, if not research studies, abound relating incidents where bananas have been discovered in lunch coolers, fishing tackle boxes, or even in someone’s coat pocket. The offending fruit is then thrown overboard and, presto chango, the fish begin to bite and stress is relieved all around — except possibly among the denizens of the deep.
Recently, I was pleased to learn that social media, best known for controversy and cacophony, has discovered that there’s also a need for (and profits in) providing some serenity.
Hence, the emergence of several podcasts that offer “white noise,” intended to minimize or nullify contemporary stressors. Their programming consists entirely of such sounds as falling rain, crickets, the clickety-clack of trains on railroad tracks, and even static.
What would constitute a good white noise mix for a coastal podcast? How about the sounds of waves gently cresting on the beach, the UDel wind turbine quietly generating power, and blue crabs softly sidling across the ocean floor?
As a teenager, I fancied myself to be a crab whisperer, talking them into my submerged crab trap. With the price of crabs what it is today, I wish I had continued to develop that skill.
It might also have helped diminish my current stress level.
Mike Berger is a freelance writer and retired university administrator with a home in Lewes. Contact him at edadvice@comcast.net.
This article originally appeared on Salisbury Daily Times: Summer stress on the coast? Here are some ways to get relief: Humor
