Every summer now, I’ve been going to the beach.  No, not the shore all you Jerseyites.  The BEACH.  I’ve been going to the Outer Banks, NC.  Every year something about the beach perplexes me.  Whether it is the surfers, the sand, or fat people, something makes me scratch my melon and wonder, “Well now what in the world…”  Maybe someone can relate to my beach queries, for I’m sure they are national occurrences and not just flukes I’ve been witnessing for years.

                The first thing that I always try and comprehend is the surfers.  I have nothing against surfing.  I admit that I think it looks pretty cool when I see it on the X-Games where people are surfing these 30 footers in Hawaii or Australia.  But this is exactly what makes me wonder why there are surfers in the Outer Banks.  It’s not Hawaii.  The waves are not 30 feet high.  What’s the size of the biggest wave you’ve ever seen in OBX?  Five feet during a hurricane or something?  I mean honestly you get these kids in their wet suits coming out with their surfboards and start swimming out into the water.  I watch them because I know what’s coming.  They finally find “the right wave” and start flipping out.  “There it is, dude, c’mon!”  They stand up and two seconds later they’re underwater because with a three foot wave, it crests about 2 feet from the sand.  Sounds like a lot of fun.  How much does it cost for that surfboard and wetsuit?  Enough to justify standing on your wave not even long enough to tell if the girls on the beach are ogling you or just laughing at you?  I think not.

                I also can’t understand the fat people in small bathing suits.  Whether it’s the fat hairy guy in the Speedo or the Swiss Cake Roll girl in the bikini, I don’t get it.  Mister, if you’re that big, there’s no explanation for a bathing suit that small.  Speedos are for the same Olympians that shave their legs for speed.  You weigh 400 pounds.  You’re not going to swim any faster now that you have a skintight suit.  Your swimming abilities include floating and that is all.  And ladies…confidence can be attractive, but not when you’re so confident that you wear bikinis that your fat rolls overflow out of your bottoms.  I’m not turned on, and neither is anyone else.  I think there should be some sort of committee, of course including myself, that determines which girls are acceptable for bikinis and which are not.  Unacceptable ones would be the aforementioned rolly-polly or women over the age of 40 (unless you’re a real MILF).  Hey, I think the beach should be enjoyed by everyone, but I just find to be enjoying myself less when I see these people around.

                To top it all off, almost nothing you do can get sand from getting everywhere.  I know that there are billions of grains of sand all around you at the beach, but of all the preventative measures you can go to, nothing will stop it.  You can brush it off, use that little foot wash before you go in, then take a thorough shower, it’s still not gone.  It gets in your socks, in your hair, in your bed.  It’s like a bad horror movie or something.  “You cannot escape…the sand!”  How the hell does that stuff manage to hold so tight onto your body.  Hell, I went in the beginning of July and I’m still finding sand in my ears.  That’s what’s keeping me from having the dream of owning a beach house later on, or spending the summer at the beach…the sand would drive me insane.  You wonder why there’s so much fighting in the Middle East.  Those guys have been pushed to the limit with all the damn sand in those countries they’ve gone off the deep end and are just killing people like crazy.  I guess that’s the talk of a landlubber like me, but I’m sorry I like not having grains of sand in every crevice of my body.

                Now don’t get me wrong, the beach is awesome.  But like everything in life, nothing is perfect.  You have all these things that will either make you groan or scratch your head.  There are the people that have some warped sense of entertainment or self image, and then there’s that intolerable sand.  But when I have to pick, I’d take another vacation to the beach in a heartbeat even though I stand out like a sore thumb with my…shoe wearing and pasty skin.  At least I save people the disgust by wearing a regular suit and am not trying to stand above all the waves on a surfboard for two seconds.  Yep, I’m just plain perfect.  You all can learn from me.

 

Eric Wronsky

SSP