As I have moved closer and closer to my thirties and deeper into the once-foreign concept of the “career,” vacations have taken up an importance in my life that I did not anticipate. My parents’ fixation on “getting away from it all” seemed quaint. Why bother going anywhere when your television, video games, computer and illicit drugs are all at home? Also, I rarely had any interest in traveling to the places my family picked. There’s very little for a young boy to do in Las Vegas other than cling furiously to any nearby air conditioner and pray that a bearded man in a van won’t snatch you up for his organ trading operation.
Now that I spend most of my free time fretting about the amount of money in my bank account, the size of my bald spot and the neighbor I have who makes my hallway smell like Armenian food and ball sweat, vacations sound far more appealing than they used to.
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Escaping to a far-flung destination is a decidedly middle class luxury, and Caucasians make up a large percentage of those who can afford to take these jaunts. As such, most vacation options are as white bread as a Romney/Ryan campaign fundraiser. From Club Med to Carnival cruises, nothing says “WASP cultural hegemony” like a week off from work. A truly white vacation is the highest signpost of success in America. If I could just spend a couple days playing tennis in the Hamptons or Kennebunkport, Maine, I’d know for sure that I’d finally made it. All I want is a Tom Collins, a copy of National Review and a cadre of illegal immigrants to clip my toenails.
With my middle class paycheck burning a hole in my wallet, I set out to find the whitest vacation destination that I could afford. I finally settled on Santa Catalina Island. Catalina, as it is more colloquially known, is a small, topographically diverse island off the coast of Los Angeles. The total population of the island was listed as 3,728 people in the 2010 United States Census. The town’s only industry is tourism.
Discounting the harrowing hour and a half boat ride it takes to get there, Catalina is the safest, most placid place to unwind. It has everything the aspiring white person could want in a getaway. If you are like me and you are looking to assimilate into the ruling class, I recommend Catalina for the following reasons.
Golf Carts
On an island, the need for a full-fledged automobile is fairly non-existent. The distances you have to travel are short and there’s hardly anywhere to park a car anyway. Plus, nothing is whiter than a golf cart. Have you ever seen a black guy puttering around on a golf cart that wasn’t a golfer or caddy? This is entirely due to the fact that driving a golf cart makes you look like a fucking dork, and black people do their best to not look silly. I’ve never received a greater number of confused looks in my life than when I drove a golf cart on Catalina Island. The only more awkward situation was when I started calling the owner of the local ice cream parlor “honkey butt.”
Boating
White people love boats because they’re expensive and elitist. They also allow for an easy escape from a neighborhood, city, state or nation once the minority population has become too large. And they’re great for carrying slaves.
Cleavage
The actress Natalie Wood was famously found dead off the coast of Catalina. She drowned mysteriously after falling off a boat she was sharing with her husband Robert Wagner, and Christopher Walken. The tale has become the stuff of legend on the island. It’s so popular with tourists that pictures of Natalie Wood abound in literature and signage in the town. The tourism bureau has the good sense to make copious use of a picture of Ms. Wood that showed off her ample bosom, because tragedy is best illustrated with a sweet, sweet rack. I mean, look at those jugs!
Comical Alcoholic Beverages
If a drink doesn’t have whipped cream on top of it or is not colored blue, then you shouldn’t be drinking it on vacation. Catalina’s novelty drink of choice is called “Buffalo Milk.” The drink contains vodka, light and dark crème de cacao, banana liqueur, half and half, and an actual whole banana. After blending this cacophony of flavors and pouring it into a plastic cup, you’re actually supposed to drink the damn thing. If consuming a drink that’s funnier than it is delicious is not your thing, then I feel sorry for you. You’ll never be able to have fun.
Tommy Bahama Stores
Nothing says “white privilege” like a store full of bastardized tropical-themed clothes. If you like your shirts loose and your khakis pleated, you are in luck on Catalina Island. The enduring fantasy of the entitled white person is to live on a beach free of hassle, to drink to excess and throw up all over a pair of Bermuda shorts. Seek these stores out to get a true island experience. Bonus points if you can find any Margaritaville apparel around town. The natives trade Jimmy Buffet merchandise like prisoners trade cigarettes.
The Chicago Cubs
White people love baseball, and they really love the Cubs. There’s a blue-collar appeal attached to the team because they’re perennial losers. The team’s colors are red, white and blue, which are the same colors as the American flag, so that’s a major plus too. The Cubs used to conduct Spring Training on Catalina Island, which is a point of pride for the community. Nostalgia for a time far in the past is as white as it gets. Being surrounded by a shitty baseball team’s moldy memories is something resembling heaven, and I am here to tell the Silent Majority that heaven is a place on earth.