If Life's a Beach, can I exchange mine for something else?

Ah......the Beach. When I was a kid, I used to really enjoy going to the Beach. Never big on swimming in the Ocean, my family turned its attention to beautiful, warm, land-locked lake water. We had a family camp in the southern bowels of Maine, and sometimes we'd even pay hard earned dollars to frequent a genuine beach.

Deciding to spend this year's July Fourth at a public beach was a decision that came surprisingly fast. Early July Third, my fiance text messaged me that she wanted to go to the Beach. She loves the Ocean. I like it too, I really do, but I'd rather breathe canned air in a wet suit while in the frigid salt water than swim in it. Also, I'm not really a big lay (lie?) in the sun and tan guy. Taking in her voiceless request, I took it upon myself to decide that we should go a lake so that we could both enjoy the water, and she could still get a little sun. We talked about it later, and decided that the Lake would be a great substitute for Ocean.

Fast forward to our arrival at the Lake, and we quickly realize that July Fourth Two Thousand and Eight (why does he keep writing out the numbers?...) was not the day to go to the Lake. The closer we came while driving to our destination, I kept thinking, "This might be crowded." Well it was. The beach opened its gaping, wallet sucking, chain link doors at nine in the morning (again with the numbers....) and it became very clear that we should have been here well before even that early time. We didn't arrive until nearly eleven am. I knew we were doomed as soon I handed over my eight dollars and the kind person who accepted it turned to someone else and said, "Are we stamping? It's really busy." *sigh*

After we got in, we began to search the "beach" for an ample spot to hunker down and begin receiving skin poisoning rays. Since we didn't get there early enough, all the spots on the sand near the water and in the sun were scooped up. By whom, you might ask? By some of the most undeserving mutants you'll ever lay (lie?) eyes (no, lay it is) on. These people look like they have never left the dining room table, or worse yet, the goddamn basement. I saw an extremely large party of people (only four people, mind you, but LARGE nonetheless) setting up camp (literally, they were setting up a tent) very close to one of the few "BEACH RULES" signs nailed into one of the many pine trees. One of the first rules said, and I'm not kidding here, "No lifeguard." Alright, so under any and all circumstances, there is no chance in Hell a Life Guard will step foot on this beach. They simply don't allow it. Another "rule" on the sign said something about no alcohol on the beach. Looking around, I could see numerous people holding various beverages in their hands. Kids had juice boxes, older kids had two juice boxes, even older kids were holding juice boxes over the heads of their younger siblings, *SMACK* (Get off the juice boxes!!!) *ahem* Sorry about that. Where was I? Right, right....and the adults all had cans in their hands. These weren't just cans though. No. These cans were protected from the beating sun by a can coozie. (that word was painful to type.) Are these very same people who don't seem to care about their girth or their close proximity to several stinking trash cans really concerned about protecting their drinks? Nope. They're being as clever as their feeble minds allow them to be. They're "hiding" their beer cans. It would be one thing if the can coolers (I now refuse to type the word "coozie"...it makes me feel dirty) actually covered the whole can. They don't. Someone needs to tell these people that a Michelob Ultra (they care about carbs when drinking but not eating?) can is not hard to spot when the top three (is he going to write out every number?) inches are showing. But wait a minute....there's no life guard here anyway. Who's policing? Who's in charge here? (And don't those things actually keep the can cold?) I wonder if there are lifeguards disguising themselves so they can get in. Wouldn't it be great if that were the rule being disregarded? "No lifeguard?" observes a lifeguard. "Fuck that, I'm going in. I have lives to guard damn it! Someone wrap me in a coozie." (now I need a shower)

When all was said and done (isn't that a dumb phrase?) we didn't stay at the Lake/Beach very long. Since everyone and their fat ass brother and trailer trash, tramp-stamped sister had taken all the best spots for possible enjoyment, we threw a disc (can't say Frisbee, don't wanna get sued) around in the water for a bit and my Lady got a little sun, and then we left. I felt bad about it really, since my fiance wanted to go to the Ocean. She relieved me of my guilt however, and assured me that we should come back to the Lake on a day when it would be less crowded. She's great like that.

Robert Plant sang about the Ocean once. He wasn't singing about actual salt water though. I just wanted to mention it. Long Live the Zep.