Good Morning Everybody, and Faithful PullUpAChairPeople.

Since it’s SumSumSummertime, I thought we could talk about the beach. Doesn’t have to be the Kona Coast in Hawaii, but that IS nice. (And, yes, Mr. Tuttle, Hilo is fabulous too.)

A beach is a landform along the shoreline of an ocean,sea, lake or river. It usually consists of loose particles which are often composed of rock, such as sand, gravel, shingle, pebbles or cobblestones.   (from wikipedia)  So you don’t have to live near a coast to go to a beach.

For me, being an Angelino, the beach means the Pacific Coast.  And, I am drawn to the shore almost magnetically, like a dog to a bowl of Yum, like a cat to a good brushing – except for Peg’s Kurienko – or like a hummingbird to a trumpet blossom.

Most of you know I enjoy camping at the beaches near here and I have enjoyed sharing my experiences on those trips with you fine folks.  The sights, the smells, the sounds.  I especially enjoy the sound of the waves lapping, crashing, spilling and receding.  I even have a CD  of the ocean waves  I sometimes listen to when I’m trying to fall asleep.  And, I also enjoy sitting on the beach and just staring at the horizon.  The delineation between the earth and the sky.  It’s just such a clear definition.  Unlike so much of how most of the rest of the world feels.  So, gazing at that horizon just calms me down and says It’s okay.

Yesterday, I took a day trip with my son James to the Santa Monica Pier, and had a neat, swell and fun time.  It was overcast, but not enough for a sweater, and encouraged a cool break from the heat we’ve been experiencing where we live.  The ambiance was deep.  The sounds were exciting, the smells were appetite enhancing, and the views were variable and inspiring.

There was a Harmony of pleasant noise that added a depth to the experience of the day.  There’s a games and rides park on the pier called Pacific Park with a roller coaster – can you hear it? – whose rumblings lent a consistent percussion to the rest of the noises,  the giggles, shrieks, screams of all the kids.  There was a lone acoustic guitar player, hooked up to a small sound system, who played a wonderful samba-type set of songs.  And, of course, there were the cries and complaints of the ever present seagulls overhead.

Oh, and the smells.  Especially at an ocean beach there is the smell of fish and salt.  At a pier where there are food stands and restaurants, there is the odor of cotton candy, popcorn, hot dogs and french fries, shrimp, and at the end of the pier, the delicious aroma of the food cooking at the Mexican Restaurant where we had lunch.  Sonny had the Sopa de Pescado (that’s Fish Soup) and I ordered a Burrito and a Mexican Coffee.  We pretended we were in Mexico, on the patio of a place on the coast.  The guitarist was near us and we dined alfresco, enjoying his artistry.

What we saw was A Lot Of People.  All types.  Every kind.  And, during lunch we discussed what the common denominator might be shared by all of them and we decided it was  folks who were looking for fun, enjoyment and amusement.  And, Food.   Even with the overcast weather, it was crowded.  When we left at 3:00, the huge parking lot was nearly full and we had to wait in a line of cars to exit onto the Pacific Coast Highway.

It’s hard for me to be at the Pier without thinking of the Beach Boys and Bikinis.

This song is dedicated to all of my PUAC friends.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCeD_6Y3GQc

One, two, three, four, tell me what she wore.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lc9jZv7ciR8

When I was a teenager, my mom wouldn’t let me wear a bikini.   But, once I went to the Pier with a girlfriend whose mother was cool and so I wore my stupid bathing suit when I left my house, but changed into a pink polka dot bikini when we arrived.   I suppose I wasn’t thinking that mom would notice the tan lines, if she came into the bathroom while I was in the tub.  I don’t remember a fight, that time, so I guess she left me alone.  I remember so clearly standing at the rail of the pier with that suit on, and it’s near where this shot was taken.

Life can be a beach, if you want it to be.

Happy weekend to all and I look forward to hearing your “beach” stories, or just anything you want to share.  Take Good Care.