Reach the Beach 2016: Team Unnatural Selection is back for Year 5: September 2012

Team Unnatural Selection Travel Review Category: Lodging Location: Brownies Motel, Hampton Beach, New Hampshire Perhaps the most challenging part of this weekend (as far as our immune systems are concerned) was our stay at Brownies Motel. It's difficult to know where to begin a description of Brownies Motel, as all of one's senses are treated to superlative experiences almost immediately. Let me start with the visuals. The Brownies Motel backlit sign circa 1963 features whimsical graphics of elfin boys placing (or maybe stealing, one can't be sure) the letters of the Brownies name, which itself is bordered by two pairs of blue squiggly lines representing either the ocean or fluctuations in the value of the Dow Jones Industrials. The sign also boasts "Color TV" and "Kitchenettes" as well as "Air conditioning". Surely some technical high school art major still keeps a photo of this in his portfolio. The grounds are mostly asphalt with a few square feet of landscaping on either side of the main entrance. What first appears to be shrubbery at closer examination turns out to be ragweed. Blocking the entrance to the lobby/office is an old kitchen table brought outside to facilitate drinking and card playing by the motel's proprietors. Next up, an assault on the ears. Words fail to describe what three generations (that’s 39 years) of Hampton Beach single moms sound like after rounds of Bud Light and cartons of Lucky Strikes. But just imagine the worst Boston accents shouted over each other with no shame or empathy for guests within earshot (i.e. ALL the guests). Now imagine dialog that makes a "Jersey Shore" marathon sound like a faculty meeting at Harvard University. Got that in your head? You're getting close. Don't forget the olfactory senses. When one walks into a guest room at Brownies Motel, there is an immediate smell that stimulates an emotional response in a very Proustian sense. Except this smell cannot be associated with anything other than bad memories. Like that time you came across a dead dog in the woods, or the time you awoke covered in vomit (someone else's). Sound fun so far? Well the staff at Brownies Motel is just getting started. After the beer ran out the "staff" (mom, two daughters, various baby daddies) abandon the premises to belly up at a local watering hole. What if we need more towels?! Upon their return, realizing they don't have keys to get into their own office, the matriarch announces to our party (loud enough to be heard in Salisbury) that she will use our bathroom--we have no choice in the matter. Cable laid, you would imagine the proprietor would now be more agreeable. Not so much. The duce being dropped, she left as fast and furious as she came and without as much as a thank you. The rest you can probably guess. Old beds, and even older cot that doesn't quite unfold all the way. Shower drain that backs up. An insufficient number of mismatched towels with the texture of a doormat. No lock or latch on the bathroom door. Carpeting, wallpaper and curtains purchased at discount during the Ford administration and never given a second thought. Weathered plywood glued in 1986 to the inside of a hollow-core door to add structure where, certainly, some prostitute's head was pushed through. Staircase railings, exposed electrical wiring and lack of smoke detectors hint at the many manual pleasurings of building inspectors over the years. In short, this was probably the only place on earth that would accept team Unnatural Selection for who they really are. What a find.