Stupid Questions and the Sixties

Tides Are Caused By What?!?
I get my fair share of idiotic questions. "Can jellyfish kill you?" No. No they cannot. "Are those SHARKS?!?!" Oh, you mean the DOLPHINS jumping around in the surf? "Am I too close to the bluff?" Do you need to ask? While staring at the tide board with the water temperature written on it: "what's the water temp today?" But I got the best one ever today (and it's not the first time, either-- this one just jogged my memory).

"What time is low tide on this beach in the morning?"

Well, darlin', you see, it changes every morning. What morning did you have in mind?

"REALLY? Well, how do you know?!?!"

We have these nifty little things called tide books. They tell us when the tide is.

"Why does it change?"

.....

"Why does the time of the tides change?"

.....

"Well?"

The moon.

"What?"

Jesus H. Christ! The moon! The moon makes the tides change.

Thankfully, the phone rang before I could start telling her off for being a complete dipshit. But sometimes I really want to. Just in case anyone is confused: the tide changes every day. There are four tides a day. At high tide, there is a lot of water on the beach. No, I can't do anything about it.


The Sixties

I've always held that I was born in the wrong decade. I just can't decide which decade I should have been born in. I'm a pretty big fan of electric blue eyeshadow. Maybe the eighties, which I missed by a few short years, were the decade I was meant to experience. But I'm not a big fan of the synthesizer, which was overused to a fault in eighties music. The fifties, with their bubblegum poppy sound, are fun and lighthearted and romanticized greatly in today's society, but anyone who knows me knows that I am not a housewife. Maybe the 20s, with the roarin' jazz scene, and the ambiguously-sexed flapper girls. I could get into that. Especially top hats, they're pretty badass. But it's not my calling.

Let me preface this story with this: I love showers. I am hugely concerned with the environment for the most part, but I indulge in 15-20 minute showers on a daily basis. Why? Well, I like to be clean, for one, and the beach injects sand into places I didn't know I had. Secondly, long, hot showers alleviate the chill that comes from sitting around in a wet swimsuit all day. On with it.

Guys, I love the sixties. I love the music, I love the feeling of the era, the hippie-dippy, peace-love-freedom-yeah-man stoner vibe. I hate the war with every fiber of my being, to the point where I'm not even sure which war I'm hating on-- Iraq? Afghanistan? Vietnam? Who cares! Peace and love, man, peace and love. I have been greatly disappointed by the aging hippies in my life. They've turned from sharp-tongued, astute, acerbic critics of government to wet-noodle run-of-the-mill conspiracy theorists. Boo. Am I allowed to love the sixties without being smelly or a conspiracy theorist? Can I shave, wear a bra, and shower daily and still emulate this wonderful decade? Can I be hopeful for the systemic foundations the country was built on, while hating the corruption of pure systems?

But the reason I'm having a fantastic day today has nothing to do with these aging hippies, or my shower conundrum.

Today, a surfer my age (20ish) walked by me, and without irony, flashed me a peace sign, and said: "Peace and love, friend."

Peace and love indeed.