July 19th, 2007
Nothing but summer
“Is everyone having fun?!”
“Yeaaaahh!!!”
“Is everyone drinking beer?!”
“YEEEEAAHHHH!!!”
I’m selfish in the sense that I make most of my decision based on how much they conform to any number of ideas I carry like crosses inside of myself. But they don’t involve the maiming of others or the environment so I usually call it a wash.
Summer used to be a communal thing, when I still in community structure like school. But since graduation summer has been a constant love affair between the season and myself only. I go to the beach as much as possible annually, about half a dozen times. It’s like skiing but even more powerful in that th ebeach is a state of being, not just an action. I probably have too much of my Uncle Al’s blood in me that I couldn’t be happier than witha six pack of beer and the sound of the ocean breeze. The sand, the sharp shadows on my blanket. No matter what is going on any where else, the summer is the beach is youth. These are the times we celebrate life en masse. In the the surf and at the shore, it is a golden beacon of good feeling that covers even a larger population and history than raving.
The beach boys set the mood and bring the energy up of arrival at the beach and Jimmy Buffet is the sweet catalyst through the peak of my buzz at the beach. I instantly remember Beach Week, and the Myrtle Beach Chapter of No Ma’am, founded with Ryan and Ken over a pitcher of pina coladas. Why
Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw? Yes, I laugh and roll over welcoming my parrothead priest to the party six thousand miles away.
A Sailor Looks at Forty and the beachers in front of me squeal with the coming of the tide. I’ll have to move back eventually, but for now, “Yes, I am a pirate.”
