To Be(ach) or Not to Be(ach)
Over the years, I really have tried to see the appeal of the beach, but I just keep coming up short. I don’t like heat. I don’t like sand. I don’t like the sun. And I refuse to go more than ankle-deep into the ocean, lest I find myself the victim of an accidental harpooning (what with my uncanny resemblance to a white whale).
I was also raised in a ‘freshwater state’. So, many of the things that people find appealing about the ocean are lost on me. I’d much rather swim in non-shark/jellyfish/pinchy crab infested waters. Although seeing a sturgeon at the Belle Isle Aquarium as a kid nearly turned me off from Great Lakes swimming as well. Ick.
As my seaside mini-vacay draws to a close, I find that many things have reinforced my take it or leave it attitude toward beach life. Which isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate how lucky I am to know someone who a) has access to a kick-ass beach house and b) for reasons I can’t begin to fathom, likes me enough to invite me to said kick-ass beach house.
So, with that being said, I offer you Ruth’s Best & Worst of the Beach.
Worst: Discovering that the ocean is as big, loud, and smelly as I remember (Notice my restraint as I refrain from making a crack about certain people from other nearby states who also have a reputation for being big, loud, and smelly. Heh.).
Best: Discovering that my son finds the ocean to be as big, loud, and smelly as I do. He exhibited the requisite amount of ocean-fear, clinging to my legs as the surf approached his little feet.
Worst: The complete lack of self-awareness/shame exhibited by the ill-advised swimsuit purchases of so many beach goers.
Best: Not being the most appalling individual on the beach.
Worst: Watching my son eat a sand-covered pretzel.
Best: Saltwater taffy.
Worst: Sunburn (and, yes, I did wear sunscreen – SPF 50, to be exact) and having to endure people making the following brilliant observation: ‘Boy, you got some sun!’ Did I? Did I really? I hadn’t noticed. I just thought maybe someone had set me on fire.
Best: Finding out that the intense burning I was feeling on my legs wasn’t from making the stupid decision to shave and then expose myself to the ocean’s briny froth. No, it was from the sun’s murderous rays!
Worst: Looking like a demented lion thanks to my gigantic hair and the 1000% humidity.
Best: Looking like a demented lion while sitting on the balcony listening to the (big, loud, and smelly) ocean while (feeling like I’ve been set on fire and) writing my weekly Froth.