The Beach

I have now lived in southern california for a year and a half, and finally went to the beach. Ann and I pulled into Huntington Beach about noon with all rest of the beachgoers and fought for our parking spot in the midst of many driving maneuvers that were new to me. Walking down the street we observed a guy wearing pajamas and moose slippers smoking a cigarette and carrying a cordless phone, and several abortion activists with giant pictures of severed baby heads. Aside from that, the beach was exactly how I imagined – sand, surfers, sunbathers, strutters, and families all doing their thing. I wasn’t sure what my thing was, but napping and ogling seemed to work pretty well for me and fit my regimen of rest for the ankle injury. Afterward we stepped into a pier-side restaurant for some expensive seafood appetizers, which even after a delay caused by a computer system failure were incredibly good. Then it was back to the freeways, where we had plenty of time to reminisce about our so socal day.

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