VACATION: DAY 3

Posted: July 5, 2011 in Just Life, Motivation

Just to recap: I can’t swim, I’m from the Midwest, and I know very little about the beach life or how to do it enjoyably.

Today I learned a couple of lessons though. One, high tide increases every day by half an hour (or something like that), so if you park yourself in the same spot as the day before, your crap will get wet.

Two, NEVER turn your back on the ocean, it’s not safe.

My first warning came when a grown man body-surfed across half my body. When I asked him if he was okay, he said, “You need to watch out.”

Umm hello Jack A, I was standing knee deep in a peaceful trance when you so rudely crashed into me and nearly knocked me over. Okay, so, my trance was really just another dizzy spell and I was afraid to move. The motion tends to make me feel queasy and a little disoriented, but I was pulling it together.

Then came the water ball that slapped me so hard in the back of the head that the sound made everyone around me gasp. Those little sponge toys are hard when thrown by (again) a grown man (and not the same guy).

Finally, the Universe was fed up with my stubborn country butt and decided it was time to teach me some east coast howdy doodie.

I have my back to the ocean; I’m waist high in calm waves, and BAM. I’m knocked down. I have no idea what has just happened except that my butt has hit the ocean floor so hard that my left cheek is instantly bruised by a rock or something.

Someone must have tried to warn me because I do recall what could have been the letter L for LOOK OUT being yelled before my head went under. However, I stood right back up (holding my bun) and felt a little proud about going in so deep.

BAM! I’m struck again, only this time, I’m head over heal and inhaling so much water that my life flashes forward to the scene of my body being dragged through the sand toward the rescue helicopter.

By the time I get myself to my feet, my hair is plastered over my eyes, water is gushing from my nose and mouth, my ears are ringing, my sun protection shirt is up over my shoulders and my shorts are half way off my ass. How embarrassing.

Not to mention, I probably wiped out a couple of children and blinded at least a third of the people with my whitest skin. Yes, clearly I rock the farmer tan.

My pride was stolen by the undertow along with my rubber beach shoes.

Here’s where it gets weird.

I limped back to the hotel across the flesh piercing sand and then hopped across the blacktop inferno with my bare feet only to discover after my shower that I’m missing a chunk of hair.

That’s right, on the top left side of my head I now have a quarter-sized area that is about an inch long and sticking straight up. I’m literally dumbfounded.

My son believes that a Sawtooth Shark must have bumped into me under the water and accidentally cut my hair.

If you are curious whether I ever opened that bottle of sparkling wine, I just did.

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Comments
  1. lcamyopinion says:

    hey…thnx for the comment.

    I LOVE your writing style. 🙂

    I line on the beach in Western Australia BTW. I swim with sharks and rays regularly. No big deal. just thats the way it is. But… even the words MID WEST scares the hell outa me. I picture long staight roads and endless feilds of hay and not a glimpse of ocean for 100’s of mile.

    I’d go INSANE!

  2. lcamyopinion says:

    liVe. I liVe on the beach..I dont liNe on the beach. although…there was that time I drew a line for my grandaughter and a wave came and washed it way and she cried….

    maybe the beach isnt so great : /

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