It's basic math - pre-summer style. A sun-filled Memorial Day + 80 degrees = A beach day. You just have to love parking it seaside, watching the waves frolicking with the shore. Well, I do, anyway. We headed out bright and early and before I knew it there was nothing between me and the sand but an orange towel and some SPF 30 (& last years bathing suit, of course. Hey, I'm no peep show.)Gary LeVox was blowing his famous pipes in my ears via the IPOD. The southeasterly breeze was blowing just enough to keep us from frying. The sky looked the way it does in every artists rendering of THE PERFECT BLUE HEAVEN. I was...content.
Fast forward eight hours. Post shower. No. Not sunburned. Itchy. Very, very itchy. While I'd been busy with my s & s (sun and sand) and r & r (that ones a given) it seems a group of hungry mosquitoes were going to town on my flip-side. Maybe not a group. Maybe a small third-world mosquito country - one of those starving insect nations who'd sufficiently put an end to their worldly famine courtesy of my bare back. Shoot, when I say covered, I do mean covered in bites.
I am a humanitarian. I donate when I can, crusade when I can't. I have a healthy respect for the food chain and the earth's ecosystem. But, I mean, come on you guys, spread the wings, spread the love. Save the fangs for another happy camper.
From here on out I will decorate my beach body with some OFF. Now excuse me while I run for some more calamine lotion.