The endless search for something to argue about

Published 1:30 am Monday, May 18, 2026

Ocean Shores has reached a point where I genuinely believe if the weather stayed sunny for more than four consecutive days, the town would spontaneously combust from unresolved Facebook tension.

This place survives on chaos. Not major chaos. Not “big city” chaos. No. Ocean Shores specializes in oddly specific small-town chaos where somebody can be passionately discussing constitutional rights one minute and then immediately pivot into a heated rant about golf carts, dune grass and why tourists don’t understand how roundabouts work.

It’s honestly art. Lately the town has entered its newest phase: The Great Protest Ordinance Era. And nothing — absolutely nothing — activates Ocean Shores quite like the possibility that somebody, somewhere, may need a permit to stand near other people while holding signs. Suddenly everybody became constitutional attorneys overnight.

People who last month were arguing about unleashed dogs are now quoting the First Amendment like they clerked for the Supreme Court. You can’t even buy coffee anymore without overhearing phrases like: “time, place, and manner restrictions,” “content neutral enforcement,” or my personal favorite, “THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE FOUNDING FATHERS WARNED US ABOUT.”

Sir, you are wearing flip flops and yelling outside the grocery store over a Facebook screenshot. Please relax.

And the funny thing about Ocean Shores is every issue eventually turns into every issue. A conversation about demonstrations somehow becomes a debate about tourists. Then somebody brings up fireworks. Then homelessness. Then Californians. Then beach driving.

Then somehow we’re all arguing about the ethics board, razor clam limits, and why the city can’t fix potholes near the Shilo.

Nobody even remembers how the discussion started anymore. We just emotionally drift into battle positions like migrating geese. Meanwhile tourists continue arriving here expecting a calm coastal retreat and instead discover what can only be described as a community permanently one comment away from a town-wide cage match.

These poor people come for sunsets and leave having witnessed: a Jeep buried to its axles, three retirees debating RCWs, someone filming city workers from across the street, and a shirtless man explaining “government overreach” while holding a corn dog. That’s not tourism. That’s performance art.

And through all of this — through every city council showdown — every “anonymous source” Facebook post — every blurry photo captioned “WOW JUST WOW” — every public records request written with the intensity of a federal indictment — the whale at the roundabout sits there silently judging all of us.

That whale has seen civilizations rise and fall. That whale has watched: tourists nearly miss exits, politicians campaign, cleanup groups form and implode, Facebook alliances collapse, and approximately 14,000 people slam on their brakes because they forgot how circles work.

At this point the whale probably wants term limits. But underneath the insanity — and yes, there is always insanity — Ocean Shores still has something a lot of places lost years ago. People care here. Maybe too much sometimes.

Okay definitely too much sometimes. But they care. People still show up to meetings. Still volunteer for beach cleanups. Still fight for causes they believe in. Still argue because they actually think this weird little town matters.

And maybe that’s why Ocean Shores can never truly be boring. Because everybody here believes they’re part of the story. Even the guy screaming about seagulls stealing French fries outside the boardwalk. Especially that guy.

So the debates will continue. The Facebook wars will rage on. The tourists will get stuck in sand. The city council meetings will continue feeling like live episodes of Parks and Recreation directed by caffeine and unresolved tension.

And somehow — through all of it — Ocean Shores will remain Ocean Shores. Loud. Chaotic. Ridiculous. Beautiful. As always dear readers — keep your clams clean.

CJ Ripley is a self-described Ocean Shores survivor.