There’s really no getting around it.
I am a beach nerd.
My wife told me so.
We both laughed when she said it, cuz it’s true.
I like the beach. I mean, who doesn’t like the ocean, right?
The steady lull of the waves and the infinite expanse that opens the mind…
Sunrises. Sunsets. Healing salt water. Finding wonderful and disgusting things that have washed on shore.
As much as I appreciate the beach, I’m never really at home there. My skin burns in minutes and being bald is not an asset. I slather on sunscreen that makes for a nice sand paste and do my best to hide my epidermis under shirts and hats.
Everyone else seems to be nearly nude in their frolicking or baking pursuits while I bundle up and look around for an umbrella.
While I can swim, I would not call it one of my strengths. As a boy I took lessons. When my mom asked the teacher how I was doing, he told her I seemed to be doing everything right, but I still sunk. I still don’t seem to float very well or swim with grace.
So while it’s not my natural environment and I’ll never be one of those lean, surfer dudes with the killer tan, I still enjoy myself at the beach. I do the best I can. And it’s okay to be a nerd every now and again.
After all, it’s just me.