by Bobbie Cimo
With the end of summer near, I realize two things; One, I hate to see the summer end and two; I grew up loving those teen beach movies. Don’t know why, since I couldn’t swim or surf. However, I did manage to learn how to float on my back in case of an emergency, like if I were lost at sea and had to wait it out to be rescued. Luckily, I never had too.
I guess the real draw about those movies for me, were the cute guys who played in them--because it certainly wasn’t the plot or storyline, since most of them didn’t have one.
Like all people, who didn’t grow up near an ocean, the first thing I wanted to see when I moved out towas . And with all the enthusiasm of a seasoned swimmer, when I did see it, I ran out to sea. I got about knee high into the water, when I felt my lips turn blue (okay you can’t actually feel your lips turn a color), but if one could… Nobody told me that the was freezing, even in July.
If I couldn’t enjoy the ocean, I could at least enjoy the sunrays and work on my tan, by basking in the California sunshine. Well, I could if it wasn’t for the fact that with every initial sunbathing session, I tend to break out with a zillion red dots on my legs (maybe a zillion is a little bit of an exaggeration). But enough red dots to make my legs look like I went stomping in a vat filled with purple grapes. The doctors call it sun poisoning. I call it annoying. Once the purple fades away, I usually end up with a pretty good tan.
Ah, then there’s all that lovely beachy air--unfortunately, I have a problem with that too. It seems whenever I’m near anything that has to do with humidity or dampness, my hair comes down with a terminal case of the frizzies. In other words, if I had red hair, I could easily be mistaken for “Little Orphan Annie”
So just because I couldn’t be a surfer, didn’t mean I couldn’t like those silly beach movies or have my picture taken with a teen idol, like Frankie Avalon, who played in them. And I could do it, without the blue lips, blotchy skin, and frizzy hair.