Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Our Aruban Vacation
There is something invigorating about the thought of a few days with nothing to do except sit on the beach, soaking in the sun, doing absolutely nothing but napping. That is why the Hubs and I try to sneak away to the beach a few days a year. When life stresses you out, let the sand and surf renew your mind and spirit.
What I forgot about though, was the amazing array of people in scary swimsuits that make for great people watching. I considered whipping out the camera to take a few photos, but I was gripped with fear that I might one day become one of these scary people and opted to leave the camera in my beach bag.
Here are a few of my favorites:
1) The men in speedos. I never understood, as the late great comedian Richard Jeni said, "why men feel the need to wear a bathing suit designed for olympic competition". There is not enough makeup or cover up in the world that makes back and butt hair look good.
2) The large and in-charge women in a bikini (sometimes a string bikini). I sympathize, I am not skinny, but I am a firm believer that is you have a big, jiggly tummy (and you are not pregnant), no one wants to see it bouncing around on the beach. There is a reason bikins look good in the catalog, the models are skinny and gorgeous.
3) The scary tube-top bikini on women over 50. Yes, you may in fact be proud you are still skinny enough to wear a bikini, but a tube top a few inches above your belly button is not the stuff dreams are made of.
Whenever I see these scary swimsuits and those who adorn them, I always wonder, do these people just have amazing body confidence (something I long for) or do they just have faulty mirrors?
A question for the ages because let's be honest, there is no way I am going to ask them.
And seriously for all of the scary people, there were plenty of good looking ones, so at least it balances out.
But even scarier to me ar the tourists who are all blotchy lobster red and sun-burned, or those as dark as tobacco and leathery to prove it. This is the stuff my nightmares are made of. I love to be tan, but the fear of looking older than I am freaks me out, so I slather on the sunscreen and reapply dilligently (a habit enforced lovingly by the Hubs).
Even with all the people watching, sometimes scary, sometimes just entertaining, the beach always lives up to its promise of relaxation and revewal of mind and spirit.