Today, I was scolded cheekily by a state trooper next to me at the Mattawan, Michigan highway exit for listening to Neil Diamond too loudly.
This has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but it was awesome and it was absolutely imperative that you know this.
“A cop scolded you, eh?”
“Yes. Apparently cops don’t like Neil Diamond singing about women from Kentucky. THE nerve. I bet he hates people named Caroline, too…”
But, alas – I digress! I guess it does fit, because I was listening to Cool 101, my favorite oldies station on the planet, on the way to grab my roommate so we could head off to South Haven for the afternoon. Michigan summers are sublime, and there’s not much of it left. So, naturally, we felt it was our duty as Michiganders to go to Lake Michigan today. With diet green tea and quite a smorgasbord of beef jerky in tow, we did just that.
The beach has always been, for some reason, a safety zone for me. Whatever it is about me that I try so desperately to hide the majority of the time seems to fall away as soon as there is water present. My arms, my thighs, my tummy… We could all dissect the living daylights out of ourselves, regardless of our size. But when there is water present – pools, water parks, the beach... All bets are OFF and it’s swim time.
Why can’t I apply this reckless abandon more often? Maybe it’s because the beach is a place where all bets are off for everyone. Everybody’s vulnerable at the beach, but no one seems to give a hoot. Bellies jiggle while footballs are thrown and overly-dramatically dove for. Mistake tramp-stamps from that outrageous high school spring break 10 years ago abound. And who cares? Probably no one! It’s the BEACH!
I bet even Neil Diamond looks ridiculous at the beach. Actually, I’m pretty stinkin’ sure Neil Diamond would look ridiculous at the beach… (Feel free to insert your own outrageous mental picture here. I’ll save you from mine.)
I need to let life be a beach more often. Just, hopefully without the cops getting involved.