Hurricane Earl took aim at North Carolina on Thursday and is on track to lash its barrier islands with dangerous winds and pounding surf before cutting a path up the U.S. East Coast.If you hear a distant fanfare this weekend as you huddle around the last barbecue of summer, chances are it is Labor Day signaling the start of the home stretch to the Congressional mid-term elections. From here on out, we’ll see more ads, more posturing, more mudslinging, and great herds of political pundits thundering across the land with all the enthusiasm and grace of buffaloes in a rut. And no one will be more aware of all that than a man whose name is not on any ballot, and yet has everything on the line: President Barack Obama.An oil and gas platform operated by Mariner Energy burst into flames on Thursday and unleashed a mile-long oil sheen into the Gulf of Mexico, in the region’s first major offshore disaster since BP’s oil spill began in April.Coming fresh off of “The Real Housewives of New Jersey” reunion (did you all catch that horror show? One word: cray-cray) is the announcement that Bravo is set to release yet another Real Housewives franchise, “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” next month.Hollywood loves a good formula, and this fall movie season is rife with tried-and-true plot setups that will give you deja vu.From Baltimore to Lancaster avenues and along Market Street in between, University City is abuzz from the arrivals of college students and professors back after summer vacation.Tiger Woods fans have put up with the philandering, the text messages and the domestic spats. Now comes what may be the hardest thing of all to tolerate: losing.While breast-enhancing surgery has become almost a norm for American women, men are also heading to the plastic surgeon’s office more often — to have their man-boobs (moobs) removed. If you are what you eat, then most Cape Codders would be a clam — or maybe a lobster roll A land named for a type of fish should abound with chances to sample tasty seafood, and Cape Cod does not disappointSo you squandered an estate note on a bachelor’s degree, then trudged through more entry-level hardships and thankless internships than should be legally permissable, only to backslide into a self-esteem shattering, résumé-derailing grind, several tax brackets below your dignity. 
I am sitting on a beach. Well, not literally, because my wife would kill me if I got sand in her laptop. But I was sitting on a beach a few hours ago, just as I did yesterday, and will again tomorrow. Like much of America, I’m on vacation.
Sitting on a beach has prompted me to think a lot about, well, sitting on a beach. I’m not exactly sure what the allure is — and why much of the country sees fit to sit in soul-crushing traffic just to sit on a beach. My primary issue, besides a history of sunburns so severe they’d fell Superman, is I don’t know exactly what you’re supposed to do on the beach. Of course, I could swim, but I overheard some kid say something about a maneating horseshoe crab. I could read, but the sun is in my eyes (I’m not a sunglasses guy, but that’s for another column), and getting sand in my library book would result in a fine I can ill afford.
I could engage in a popular pastime around these parts that involves collecting shards of former Miller High Life bottles transformed by the sea into a mystical object known as “beach glass.” The women in this community seem rather obsessed with it, awakening early to beat each other to the prime pieces, to be showcased in jars or strung into jewelry. I suggested they do the same with cigarettes left in the sand — the competition is less cutthroat, and beach butts are way easier to string together.
Icould consume copious quantities of alcohol. But then I’d likely pass out, and wake up hours later with one of those epic sunburns.
Instead, I sit wishing I was doing all the fun things that don’t involve beaches — sitting in Irish pubs, or following my friends’ every move on Facebook, or perhaps watching an approaching thunderstorm take over a tranquil summer sky.
Beach trips eventually come to an end. Then it’s more stifling traffic on the way home. My traffic colleagues will be sad to leave the sun and fun. Me, I’m looking forward to taking the wife’s laptop to an Irish pub, poking around on Facebook, and — with any luck — watching a freakish storm roll in.
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In the July MMMpod, Young Veins talk about breaking away from Panic! at the Disco, Keith Lockhart talks about Buckwheat Zydeco throwing the Boston Pops for a loop, Zooey Deschanel talks about how Roy Orbison inspired a She & Him song, Derek Miller of Sleigh Bells talks about how awesome Funkadelic is, and we talk about how awesome Jimmy Cliff is, who in turn talks about Sam Cooke and divine intervention. An explosive show for July! Oh yeah, and we also test your knowledge of America songs in the MMMPod medley.
