There’s something about sand between your toes that makes you a bit giddy, a bit child-like, a bit uninhibited. You suddenly have the longing to build sandcastles and bury your friends up to their heads in the wet, shell-laden sand. Frigid temperatures and shrinkage be damned, it wouldn’t be a beach trip without testing the ice-cube-creating waters or getting on a boat. Nor would it be without dancing, each foot on one of two boats, to Def Leppard, no less, while consuming copious amounts of Bud Light cans and discussing insurance adjusting with a guy that looked you in the breasts instead of the eyes when speaking.
Beach trips are notorious for inside jokes with dear friends, and even if you see the person only once a year, you all remember the “JUUULLLL-IIIEEE” episode or the reason we think John needs to invest in some waxing. They’re the times when it’s perfectly acceptable to dance on a pole, a stop sign or a floor lamp, when kisses and drinks are flowing and when going home by midnight or staying out until six am really doesn’t matter.
Throwing caution to the wind is the pervading attitude. If you want to throw a football on the beach while wearing tie-up high heels, a la Tina Fabulous style, go for it. If you make the bartender create a drink in your honor, more power to ya. (And if it’s so good that the entire table chooses to order it as well, then you, my friend, may be the Queen of the evening.)
It’s about relaxation. It’s about back porches and rocking chairs and trashy books and girlie magazines and paddle ball and sunburns and the near-orgasmic rush that is cold aloe on a burnt back and skimpy bathing suits and vodka-lemonade and grilling out and dance parties and kissing and kissing some more and old friends and new friends and sand in your bed and fighting for a shower and visible thongs and late-night pizza and late-night phone calls pledging undying love to numerous cell phone recipients and gasping at the true words of Lil’ Kim’s “My Neck, My Thighs” and advice from friends and hangovers and creative mixed drinks and the smell of Banana Boat sunscreen.
It’s about Summer, it’s about being young, and it’s about time we do it again. Any takers?