Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Feeling High

OK, so feeling better. Well...there is the one problem I seem to be experiencing in the lower GI region that requires immediate access to toilet facilities, but beyond that everything is fine.

Rain. Lots of rain today. And for the first time in weeks (since we've been back from California, for sure). The landscape sure needed it, yeah. This now poses the question, will tomorrow's planned after work ride through Cathedral Pines be a washout? That freakin' place does not drain, and those in charge are quick to put up the blockades if someone so much as spits in the parking lot. Welcome to Long Island: the land of control.

Which sends me on a rant. When in the fuck will people lighten up about ocean activities around here? What I'm talking about is that every single time you go to the beach around here the sheriffs are out in full force implementing and policing the rules. Case in point: swimming (or "bathing" as it is called here) only between the flags.

This is bizarre. We have beautiful ocean beaches here. MILES of them. But every morning the lifeguards come out and stick a couple of flags in the sand about 50 yards apart. And that's where you swim. Only there. Nowhere else.

One of the unfortunate realities of life on Long Island is that you can count on one hand the beautiful, fit people in the entire region (And, yes, I'm one. That leaves four more). So if one chooses to swim in what amounts to an aquatic subway car, one must share close, intimate, wet space with all manner of fat, ugly, smelly humans.

Contrast this with California, my home state (Rah!). There you can swim wherever the fuck you want. There's a tropical storm kicking up 20 foot faces and deadly rips? Hey, grab your boogie board and go! The human group understanding is clear: you better know what the hell you're doing or else you're gonna die and nobody gives a shit about you, you pathetic turd.

Here, however, we demand protection. We matter, dammit. We are important. And if I die, YOU are liable, no matter how fucking stupid I am.

OK, rant and summer are over. Well, at least after Labor Day all the lifeguards go home. I can now go out and drown wherever the hell I want.

Two news flashes from the Long Island bike scene:

Whitmore's is on TV


A mountain bike race on LI? Huh?

Oh, and ps: I "bathe" at home, not at the beach.

1 comment:

gewilli said...

"you better know what the hell you're doing or else you're gonna die and nobody gives a shit about you, you pathetic turd."