There's no way to keep sand out of the house when you live by the beach, but the beach is why we moved here. I tell my family a little sand underfoot is homey. In the summer the beach is a magnet. People come for a day in the sun and by the end of the day I can tell which ones came without sunscreen. They come to release their inner child, as well as the children who've been in the back seat of an SUV repeatedly asking, "When are we going to get there?"
Unfortunately, they can't release the children until they find a parking space. The ice in the cooler is melting; Johnny just poked Jane with an inflated belly board; the parking situation hasn't changed, but the baby needs to be. Suddenly paying a thirty-eight dollar fine for illegal parking looks like a bargain.
Although kites dot the sky, I wonder if their flyers have been told by angry spouses to go fly one or are they doing it for fun? I don't think holding a string is fun. Maybe kite flying is for depressed people who need to see things looking up.
Then there's volleyball - the serve, the setup, the spike; but it's the diving for the ball that keeps me a spectator. Any dive I made would be the only dive I made.
Families gathered under umbrellas, children riding the waves and building sandcastles, girls in bikinis strutting along the water's edge and middle age men pulling in their stomachs when the girls walk by. It's as American as apple pie, but it's impossible to slice the pie without getting sand on it.
It's also impossible for all the picnic trash to get into the trash cans that are within easy reach of everywhere. People must use them to locate their spot on the beach instead of using them to keep the beach spotless. Don't they read all the do-not-do's on the signs? Mother Nature is protected, which makes her a mother-in-law. That's why they say, "Don't fool with Mother Nature!"
When the people get back into their SUV's, I sit on our deck, lowering my blood pressure by patting the dog and watching the waves roll in. It's like meditating with my eyes open. No matter what happens, the waves keep rolling in. Oh to be so calm as the bills keep rolling in.
KNIGHT PIERCE HIRST takes humorous looks at life.
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