So I’m finally sitting on the beach late on Sunday afternoon after working forever and I’m watching the waves and I’m watching Miss Carol nap and I’m wondering, WTF?
Is this beach life thingy all it’s cracked up to be?
I mean, during the “nice” summer months when the beach is supposed to be the place to be, it’s so frickin’ hot you can fry eggs on your cooler. No wind, no breeze, just relentless heat and unrelenting humidity.
Add to that the daytrippers and tourons, and shit dude, sitting packed on the beach cheek to jowl with thousands and thousands of pasty-ass strangers is not really high on my idea of fun.
(Which, by the way, brings up something totally different- how is it that in AUGUST white people can still be sooooo white they start to burn just sprinting from their cars to their condo’s? I mean, I know not everyone has a beach, but surely everyone has sunlight, right? Are these people captives or something?)
Anyway.
So then the sultry summer season ends and it’s time for hurricanes and their endlessly wearisome, worrisome, constant weather tracking and boarding up of windows and writing of names and SSI#’s on arms so officials can positively identify our bloated dead bodies when we wash up somewhere, sometime, after the storm.
Whew. Then.
Frothing and snapping right on the heels of the hurricane fun is Papa Winter with his constantly icy winds and rain whipped nor’easters and sometimes, lately, even sleet and snow. At the beach? I love you Papa.
And then the spring awakens with her flirty lightness and we’re deluged with soaking rains and flowers that try but drown and die. And then we’ve made that short trip around the sun and it’s right back into another sweaty summer.
Fun, right?
So I sat there and I tried to think why? Why do we stay? Why do we endure season after season? Why not move on to some place where the weather isn’t so viciously predatory- maybe like a quiet lake in the mountains or somethin’.
Oh shit. Wait a sec.
I remember now.
oceandoggy.com 
It’s all good until a size 18 strolls by in the same bikini….or a fat dude in a speedo.
10-4 on that. Although, sometimes the heavy chicks can pull off the bikini thingy and look kinda buxom whereas the fat dude in the speedo just looks silly.
Duuuuuuuude,
How about the smell of the ocean? How about seeing the water EVERYDAY! How about the relaxing walk at day break, while it’s still cool, watching the sunrise, listening to the ocean crash on the beach, realizing how GREAT life really is, while the pasties are still dried saliva head stuck to their pillows sleeping in! How about the back deck grilling, cocktail in hand, enjoying the evening breeze! How about experiencing, everyday, others dreams! Sand in the living room, outside showering, the sunned, dried salt water stuck to your skin end of a great day at the beach! How about the quiet off season enjoying the different weather at the BEACH. Christmas lights in the palm plant by the front door next to the surf boards! The beach Christmas others long for! How about the cozy, warm fire’s in that bestest ever beach cottage, wind howling outside, cocktail warming your insides! How about the dream of living at the beach 25 years ago, with the love of your life, becoming reality! Sometimes routine, sameness, breeds longing for change. It happens!! Even in paradise! This comes from the outside looking in. And sometimes, JUST SOMETIMES, stepping back, taking a deep breathe, regrouping, realizing, where you’ve gotten to, what you’ve gotten to, is pretty fucking FANTASTICALLY GREAT!!!!!! I know I have to sometimes!!
JUST MY THOUGHTS!! (But then you know my feelings/wants about beach life!!!)
LOVE YOU BRO!!!!ALWAYS WILL!!!!
AMEN BRYE!!!! I LOVE YOU BOTH!!!!
CUPCAKE!!!
Oh right.
Those too.
Hey, I may be pale, but.
Eh, I have no argument.
Pale??
How can you be pale? Don’t you live in California?