Port Canaveral has a very convenient campground, Jetty Park. It’s right on the causeway the cruise ships use to sail out to the Atlantic Ocean. Hearing Caribbean music playing, I went to investigate, and saw this:
Pretty weird, huh? No, it’s not parked there.
We thought about heading over to the cruise ship terminal for a last minute deal for about 30 seconds.
Jetty Park is very near Cocoa Beach. If you were born in the mid-50’s to 60’s, there was this little comedy show on television that was part of your weekly must-see’s. Based in Cocoa Beach and Kennedy Space Center, it was goofy, ridiculous at times, but even our parents enjoyed the show. Why? In part it was the (at the time) cutting edge trick-photography (yes, that’s what they called it), but mostly because of a (again, at the time) scandalously clad character simply named, “Jeannie”. “I Dream of Jeannie” was the best. An astronaut, Major Anthony Nelson, stumbles upon a bottle on the beach and releases a 2,000 year old genie. Unlike most masters of genies, he’s not very excited about the whole situation. He’s got a big secret to keep, and his life is turned upside down when her eagerness to please him goes sideways, since she doesn’t quite understand not-so-literal modern language. His superior officer thinks he’s going nuts. His best friend, Major Roger Healy, is the only one who knows his big secret, and Roger would LOVE to have a genie. Barbara Eden was the stuff boys dream about, and men, too, for that matter. Beautiful, busty, costumed, and subservient. Yeah, that would never fly today. I loved her bottle, and wished my bedroom looked just like it. We all loved watching the magic unfold before our eyes when she crossed her arms, nodded her head, and blinked.
I figured Cocoa Beach SURELY had some kind of monument commemorating the show. It did. Well, not so much a monument, but rather a street and a sign. Well, not so much a street, but the lane that’s the entrance to a park. Well, at least there was something.
Back in my teenage years, my best friend and I were at the beach as often as we could get there. Pam and I LOVED the beach. We knew all the best hangouts, and the coolest surfer spots. Neither of us had any talent for it, but we sure loved watching surfing. That, and she had a thing for surfers. Pretty sure the ’70’s was the first time surf labels became a thing for anything more than surf gear. OP was a cool label of clothing, and if you could find it, so was Ron Jon. Ron Jon was so hard to find it made it that much cooler. On this trip through Cocoa Beach I spotted the largest surf shop I’ve ever seen in my life, and it was Ron Jon! Doggone it, I couldn’t talk Steve into stopping. Surfing wasn’t his thing, football and baseball was. I imagine I could have talked him into stopping if I really tried, so that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve insisted so I could have lived vicariously through my daughters, and picked them up a cute swimsuit, and maybe and outfit or two. Next time.
Ron Jon in Cocoa Beach covers city blocks. Stunning permanent sand sculptures line the street. Come to find out, it’s the largest surf shop in the world. Dang! I really should have stopped.
Next time for sure, Ron Jon, next time…
We stopped at the market on our way back to camp to pick up something fresh to grill for dinner. From the parking lot I spotted the most perfectly named strip club I’ve ever seen.
Bahahahaha! Cheaters! No clickable link for you.
Back at camp we strolled over to the beach. Since two sides of the corner lot the camp occupies are large waterways, the beach was a short ten minute walk through the park over to the Atlantic Ocean.
I wonder how long these had been in the water?
The rest of day was the usual grill something for dinner, have a glass of wine, take in the scenery, then hit the hay. Ahhhh, life is good, and we count our blessings.