A Day At The Beach

I'm generally not a beach person. Even though I live in sunny Southern California, I rarely go to the beach.

Why?

Well, I've never looked that hot in a swimsuit, I'm concerned about skin cancer and I'm scared I'm going to catch something from polluted water. The Pacific Ocean is cold, even in summertime. Plus, I'm not going to ruin the hair I just spent three tedious hours getting done.

My aversion to the beach changes when I drive up the coast to Santa Barbara. There's something about the views of the mountains to my right and crashing waves to my left that makes me want to just jump in the water. I'm here for work for a couple of days, and yesterday I pulled off the freeway at Carpinteria State Beach. The sign at the beach said that parking was $8. I told the attendant I just wanted to put my feet in the water for 15 minutes and she let me through.

Just me and the water. It was a bit chilly, but not the artic freeze you'd be getting in Lake Michigan at this time of year. Something about the waves crashing over me makes me forget about people who steal parking spots and talk on their cell phone too loud. It makes me forget about how Barack Obama is getting the, "Is he black enough?" litmus test. It makes me just think about...higher things. You know, world peace, the meaning of life, what is true love and what does it really mean to pursue happiness.

Fifteen minutes, that's all it took to come down from all the drama and all the worries and all the little things I stress out about. Hmm...Maybe I should come to the beach more often.