By Ken Lass
I mean that literally. That’s what we do. Some people like to spend their beach vacations in non-stop activity. Fishing, swimming, biking, hiking, golfing, water parking, and shopping. We are not those people. For the duration of our stay, you will find us oozed into our beach chairs, parked in front of the rolling water. If we didn’t have to eat, we would probably never move. It would be easy to mistake us for dead.
As I sit there, gazing out at the awesome forces of nature at work in the Gulf of Mexico, it inspires me to be introspective, contemplative. It’s a time to think profound thoughts, to ponder the great mysteries of the universe, the true meaning of life, deep stuff like that.
Thing is, I’m just not a deep person. My idea of a deep conversation is debating why anyone would want to buy blue jeans that already have rips in them. Still, after a week of sun-soaked inspiration, I feel like I should be able to come up with some semblance of profoundness. So, based on my observations, here is the best I can do:
Did you ever notice that a seagull can actually bend its knee joint in both directions?
Once you get sand in your shorts, it’s never coming out.
Why do I spend half an hour greasing myself up head to toe with sunblock, only to spend all day under the shade of my umbrella?
The velocity at which men walk the shoreline is directly proportional to what kind of shape their body is in. Those with defined, muscular physiques strut by in a slow, proud gait. Shoulders back, flat stomachs thrusted out. They are going to give all observers plenty of time to admire the form they have worked so hard to mold. The less fit a man is, the faster and more slumped over he walks the shore. He just wants to get this over with. Often, he will wear some sort of extreme hat. He will tell you that it is to shield the sun. In reality, it is just to distract you from looking at his belly.
No matter how close to the water you set up your umbrella, someone will make it their mission to try to set up in front of you and block your view.
Studying the ocean, it becomes completely plausible to me that people once believed the earth was flat. The horizon certainly makes it look that way. It is perfectly level, and it looks finite. It definitely looks like the end of something. Which makes it amazing to me that, at some point, some guy must have stood up and said, “Hey, let’s all get into a boat and sail out there and see what happens when we fall off the edge!” Not sure if that guy was courageous or just plain stupid.
What happens to all the little seashell creatures when their shells wash up empty on the shore? Where did they all go? Did they become fish food? I keep picturing some giant underwater shelter for homeless mollusks.
Kids these days have lost the art of building a good sandcastle. Most are content with just inverting a pail of sand and calling that a castle. We used to carve windows and doors in ours, using small pebbles to hold the sand in place. Then we would build a moat around it, which was connected to a canal that ran all the way to the shoreline. That way, when a wave rolled in, it would flow down the canal and irrigate the moat. Now that, my friend, was a sandcastle. It took a lot of work to dig the canal deep enough to overcome the slope of the shoreline, but it was worth it. If I wasn’t fastened to this beach chair, I would show these kids how it’s done.
Every day at the beach is different. There’s a whole new set of people around you each day, creating their own unique dynamic. Sometimes you are surrounded by gregarious types who want to strike up a conversation and get to know you. By the end of the day, you feel as though you are vacationing with old buddies. Other times, everyone just wants to keep to themselves. Kind of like standing in line at the restroom. You’re not really in the mood for talking and making new friends. Or even making eye contact.
In the end, I think what draws us to the ocean is its stability. It’s always there, rippling those foamy waves over the shifting sand. No matter what adversity you must endure, no matter how many people let you down, no matter how many life-changing events befall you, you can always return to the sea, and it will gently lull you back into blissful relaxation and security, just as it has done for countless generations before.
Hey….that really was kind of profound. I’d better write that down.
(Ken Lass is a retired Birmingham TV news and sports anchor, and Trussville resident since 1989.)