After Pulling an All-Nighter, the Beach is the Place to Be
By Mike Dewey
July 24, 2013
400
SUMMARY: A day at the beach turns into something even more interesting as Mike Dewey thinks about heat, the lack of sleep and the greatest live LPs he's ever heard .. and then there's something else ...
I meant no harm.
Seriously.
Honestly.
You know me better than to believe Id ever hurt a child.
And yet, there I was, staring as the unfortunate residue of my best intentions crumbled into the sea, an ocean of regret waiting to dog me the rest of my life.
Id been up all night, staring as the clock clicked past hours most of you never see: 3 and 4 and 5 and 6 ... and thats cool. Its the way I have to make a living.
But by 3 that afternoon, I was sunburned and hungry and ready to finally get some solid sleep. I cant rest on the beach: way too many distractions and you can imagine the bikini world that opens itself when youre simply lounging there, the Atlantic offering a backdrop to whatever and whomever walks on by.
And thats the thing about a day at the beach.
Its always a, well, fluid situation in that the landscape can shift and change and morph at any moment.
Thats part of the fun.
And sometimes, part of the challenge.
Im not going to go off on a rant, decrying clueless and rude vacation folks and their lack of etiquette when it comes to loud music and boisterous behavior, but I will say this.
When a bunch of them choose to dig in for the day and theyre as close to you as the distance I could heave a 16-pound bowling ball, then all you can do is lift your unspoken prayer to the azure sky and hope.
Because it can so badly ... so quickly.
Im not a confrontational guy, most of the time, and on this particular Saturday morning, I was not only sleep-deprived, I was in a oddly optimistic frame of mind.
Whats wrong with you? my wife asked, more than once. You seem almost happy.
I simply shifted my chair so that Id catch more sunshine.
AND THATS ANOTHER THING about a day at the beach. If you realize that there are millions of people who would gladly take your place, suddenly a great calm comes over you and you think to yourself, Im like Lou Gehrig ... the luckiest man on the face of the earth.
So when the clan of 15 set up shop to our left, too close for comfort, I just let it all be.
There were two couples, an assortment of little kids and perhaps a half-dozen friends, not to mention some elders, folks my age.
They are always a key component in gauging the potential disruption factor since, as I believe, the older you get, the less likely you are to cause a public scene.
Besides, theyre usually smarter and quieter, a very fine combination thats served me well since my third-grade teacher told Mom, Mikes very bright and he doesnt say a lot, but he has a mind that takes wing.
This is not a conversation I actually recall, but over the years of my childhood, my mother used to repeat it verbatim, especially when I brought home a report card that had a B or two on it.
A mind that takes wing, shed sigh. Better fly a little higher.
Still, I think Mom wouldnt take issue with the fact that Ive left Ohio and taken on the life of a part-time beach bum; in fact, I think shed say something like, Maybe theres something to all this taking wing talk. You look good.
Which I didnt last Saturday morning.
I was exhausted, having pulled a fourth straight graveyard shift. My skin was pasty and nowhere near tanned, my hair was a greasy silver and needed a trim and my body ... well, lets just say its not entirely a bad thing that my 40th high school class reunion has, unofficially, been canceled.
Just found out about that development the other night and Im not sure how to feel about it. Faithful readers could recall that Ive never missed a reunion and that I almost always have a great time hanging out with my classmates once every five years.
But this time around, the Class of 1973 seems not to have been able to pull it together.
And that could be a good thing. Maybe everyone will miss it so much well gather in Jamaica on New Years Eve.
Lets cue up Joni Mitchell for a moment, shall we?
You dont know what youve got till its gone.
BUT TO GET BACK TO THE BEACH: The surf was crazy and riptide warnings were everywhere and anyone with any sense was keeping well away from the breakers, which were crashing in with little space between them.
Sort of like a Dickey Betts solo, perhaps on Blue Sky.
And speaking of the Allman Brothers Band, has there EVER been a finer live album ever released for public consumption than Live at the Fillmore East?
Its a personal thing – like everything about music that matters – but the only LPs Id put in that stratosphere would be Lou Reeds Rock and Roll Animal, the Whos Live at Leeds, Otis Redding and Jimi Hendrix at Monterey and Get Yer Ya-Yas Out, the Rolling Stones on their 1969 tour.
Well, Id be remiss if I didnt at least mention CSNYs Four Way Street, which practically got me through high school reasonably intact.
I could listen to Carry On and Southern Man 10 times a week and never get bored.
Speaking of the South, a place Ive called home since the fall of 2000, when youre on the beach, you have to go with the flow, which is why I used to get all weird and nasty and ill-humored when some grotesque excuse for human beings would invade what I considered to be my space.
This, friends, is folly.
Youd be smarter to believe in bipartisan cooperation in the U.S. Senate than to pin your hopes on having a communal experience when you just never know whos tromping down the dune, aiming to plant an umbrella, Iwo Jima style, so close that you can almost hear the country music CDs being loaded and the volume being cranked to 11.
And thats what made our neighbors so appealing to me the other morning. Sure, they number more than a dozen, but they were nice and quiet.
Given my state of mind, this was balm for my flayed soul and I looked at that collection of human beings as, well, if not friends, then certainly not adversaries.
Youre almost smiling, my wife said as the afternoon lengthened. I thought youd be asleep by now.
No worries, I said, glancing at my civil neighbors, sharing the same sand. Im fine.
And then, well, everything changed.
NEXT WEEK: All I Wanted to Do Was to Lend a Helping Hand or No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.
Mike Dewey can be emailed at CarolinamikeD@aol.com or snail-mailed at 6211 Cardinal Drive, New Bern, NC 28560. If you havent liked him on Facebook already, thats OK, but you should.
