Back to the Beach

Wasn't there a Gidget movie by that or a similar name? I think I'm remembering correctly, but then again I'm older now. That means my mind tends to transpose things now and then. Take for instance what I saw as I drove by the beach this weekend. It was a decent weekend. They were out in droves. And they were determined to let everyone within eye shot know that summer is here, in all it's naked glory.

Who...will someone please tell me...invented the thong? Was a fashion maven standing in the mirror flossing her pearly whites when the idea flashed in her brain......"Wow, I could floss my butt as well!" And then there were thongs? I just don't get it. I always thought butts were part of the anatomy that remained under the bathing suit. Remember how we were told in recent years to explain improper touching to children? "Any area that's covered by a bathing suit." Well, I really thought that included butts. And for that matter, when the butt is merely flossed by a colorful string, exactly how much of the front do they propose to cover with that teensy garment? Not much. No, not much indeed.

Thongs on women are equaled in repulsiveness only by Speedo bikinis on men. They're so tiny (the Speedos) and they cover very little, and absolutely nothing is left to the imagination. I tend to think that the imagination works in a lot of people's favor. Take for instance 70-year old men. For some reason they're the ones I always get to see wearing the Speedos. Their George Hamilton tans and '70's aviator sunglasses are only made perfect by the donning of the hot pink or shiny gold Speedos. Or how about the tall, thin stud-type strutting around in his banana hammock, diving for the frisbee as it heads his way. And who got the idea to call them banana hammocks? Sorry, guys. Grandpa's banana doesn't need a hammock. In fact it ought to be planted soundly in a pair of mid-thigh length trunks, complete with mesh insert.

I'm not a prude. Bathing suits are fine. Bikinis work on younger women. Speedos work on no one. Ditto for the thong.

I wonder if at the end of a hot and sweaty, sand-laden beach and thong day if removal of said thong requires expertise. Is there an instrument used to pluck the damp and sticky butt floss out of its deep, dark crevice? If not, there's got to be money in the future of the Einstein who invents that implement. And what happens when the barely-there garment gets wet? You can't tell me that embedded string will ever dry!

I guess it shows my age when I admit I'm afraid of what I might see on the beach instead of dreamily hoping I might see something fleshy. You tell me. Isn't there something a little bit alluring when not everything is displayed in plain sight?

I love the beach. I'll definitely make quite a few stops there over the summer. In the winter when I'm gratefully lounging in the Florida sun I practically live at the beach. Still, the only floss I use is that intended for my teeth. And while I'm sans a banana hammock I do have a banana hanger in my kitchen......that is used for ripening bananas. And while I'll fight back nerves as I gingerly step out onto the sand, I'll don my dark glasses and say a little prayer.

"Please God, may the thongs and Speedos stay home today."

(And yes, Grandpa, that means you, too!)

But alas they'll all be out in full force; flopping, wiggling, picking and swaying in the sunny breeze. I'll probably never understand it, but I can guarantee you one small certainty: this definitely won't be a case of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!"

At least not this season.