LET'S admit, there's hardly anything so obvious as bringing our summertime yearnings to bear on sand, surf, skimpy swimsuits, longboards, short boards, skim boards, volleyballs, webbed chairs, straw hats, escapist novels and the tang of Coppertone on the seashore.
But this is no time to shirk. At least half of the best things in life are those we can count on, year after year, especially as we anticipate the sun beating down on our overwrought, overheated noggins.
Remember back. Was it second grade? \o7On summer vacation I went to the beach.\f7 The sentence dripped with meaning. In my case, the teacher (and I've forgotten her name) stifled a yawn and looked around to see if anyone else in the class might have something original to say. I don't recall being dissuaded, not then and surely not now. Some cliches have earned their place in our hearts.
Just a few steps west of the last "For Sale" signs, at the terminus of a continent that we have divided up, paved over and civilized as best we can, our beaches are our grandest public spaces. Pity those we call "urban planners" who are forever dreaming up ways to bring us together in pleasant surroundings outdoors. They'll never do so well, and they know it.
Deed to this slender terrain, barely as wide as a freeway, is the most valuable we hold in collective trust.
Arriving at the seashore barefoot and buttered up on a sizzling day is license to breathe easy. Have you noticed how few people spend their time at the beach talking on mobile phones? How very few laptops you see in laps? How seldom children descend into tantrums? Whether you are out to work up a sweat in a pickup volleyball game or to simply repose on a towel, the beach energizes those senses that are understimulated and soothes the others.
The experience is different from going to a theater or a stadium, where you escape not only your surroundings but yourself too. At the beach, engulfed in the comfortable anonymity of crowds, with the metronomic white noise of surf blotting out the din of the city, you have the leisurely chance to enjoy your own company.
When I've left Southern California to postings afar for this newspaper, I missed my friends foremost and, secondly, the beach. Today, many of my friends have given up on the beach. Teenagers no longer, they are mindful of skin cancer, sewage spills, potbellies, parking -- not inconsequential things, granted. But might they be giving up too soon on their youth?
