Beach Bar First. Obviously.

The embroidered cartoon on your bag is a cat. Probably? Sure, your stupid husband Start with a cold can and a bag of salty chips. Already a better afternoon than answering “just one quick email.”

Altamont's Beach Snack Rice Lager tastes delicately of puffed jasmine rice, with a clean, dry finish that makes excellent company for those chips. At 4.1%, it's the lightest beer in this particular beach bag. “Beach” is already printed on the can. We're counting that as decor.

Give Fieldwork's Hazy Train a fish taco. Its juicy grapefruit and honeydew notes and soft, velvety texture deserve a proper beach lunch. Finding a credible horizon is your department.

Want a little lemon in the sunshine? Farmers Brewing's Kickback adds lemon-zest brightness to light, unfiltered lager. Founders Bill and Kristin Weller are both fifth-generation farmers. They understand hard work. We understand dragging a cooler six feet and declaring a holiday.

Or let Coronado's Weekend Vibes IPA bring the coast to you: tropical hop flavor, a bright, dry finish, and roots on Coronado Island. Pick a beer, get the cooler out there. We need to discuss the sand.

Some tropical white sand is made by parrotfish grinding up coral material and pooping it out. A fish can help build a tropical beach just by going about its business.

You've sprinkled half a bag of sand over the lawn. The grass still pokes through. Eh, close enough. Crack something cold. Admire your grassy beach and sandy lawn.

Enjoy Your Luxury Sun Lounger

You lower yourself into the beach chair. Your knees arrive beside your ears. A cartoon crab grins up from the seat, which was designed for someone who travels in a car seat. You paid adult money for toddler furniture. Excellent start.

Reach for Golden State's Radical Guava: lush pink guava against crisp apple, with a tiny cayenne warmth at the finish. The guava comes from Brazil. You're eight feet from the dryer vent. Sip slowly and let the fruit do the traveling.

Their Jamaica cider takes inspiration from agua fresca, with hibiscus giving it a rosy color and bright, berry-like tartness. Delicious beside limey tacos. Cold pink cider, warm sunshine, a little salsa on your thumb. Pretty good holiday, actually. Just don't attempt to stand without a spotter.

Sincere's Apple Dry Cider is for the crisp-apple crowd; Granada Rosé adds the tart depth of pomegranate. Sincere started as a hobby in an Oakland garage. They made excellent cider. You made a beach you can vacuum. Different hobbies. Plenty of room in the Bay Area.

Time to open the beach umbrella.

OK, fine, it's technically a cocktail umbrella. Stick it in your hair bun. Tilt your head toward the sun. There. One eye is now shaded.

Low Tide, Courtesy of Next Door

The gentle sound of water turns out to be a hose dripping into a shallow dent in the lawn. You trail a toe through your private ocean and snag a dandelion. Very Baywatch. For some reason you find yourself running in slow motion toward the compost bin.

Real ocean tides respond to the gravitational pull of the moon and sun. Yours respond to a man next door shouting, “THAT'S OUR WATER.”

The hose goes off. Low tide arrives ahead of schedule.

Back to the cooler. Fermensch Kombucha at Ava's comes from a small-batch Orange County brewery, and Watermelon Thai Basil pairs juicy melon with a fragrant herbal lift. Pour it cold over ice. You can enjoy the watermelon without spitting seeds over the fence. We're trying to keep ONE neighbor.

The West Coast IPA inspiration in Dry-Hopped Pear makes sense as soon as those fragrant Cascade hops meet mellow pear and kombucha tang. Or go softer with Bloom: juicy blueberry, lavender, and chamomile. Tip it into a nice glass. We can still pull off a drink by the water, even if you need to squint to see the water.

Choose your favorite. Put your feet up on the cooler. Close your eyes. For a moment, the cold fizz, sunshine, and herbal perfume do the whole job.

At Least SOMETHING Here Is Tropical

Open your eyes. Back to the real world. You're sweeping your beach off the driveway while wearing a crab chair like a belt. Behind you: a wet dent. Somewhere in Maui, nobody needs to know about this.

But then there's the tropical plant you brought home from Ava's. All that lush green, sitting there looking good without a single grain of decorative sand. Annoyingly effortless.

Bring it inside, find a spot that suits its light needs, and let excess water drain away after watering.

A cold drink. A leafy corner. You can keep this much of the tropics at least. Take the cocktail umbrella out of your hair and tuck it into the pot. Finally. A resort built to scale.