Life's a Beach

I find myself alone at the beach today. I have been attending a conference on logging research, and today is field trip day. I have seen enough pine trees go from vertical to horizontal in the last twenty years, so I decided to skip the bus tour of the woods of the Florida panhandle for a little quiet time.

What to do on a day of nothing to do?

I started by sleeping late. I am almost ashamed to say that I didn't get up until 7:00 a.m.--scandalous behavior for a forester. Showered and went down to the hotel lobby for an overpriced cup of Starbucks.

Later I took a long walk on the empty beach. Nobody around but snowbirds. A few signs that the locals are preparing for the spring break college crowd--tents going up with "Welcome Spring Breakers" being assembled. Otherwise I have it to myself.

I head back to the lee side balcony of my room, overlooking the Miracle Mile. Return some phone calls on the cell since I have no service inside the concrete walls of the room. I notice there is a tattoo and body piercing shop across the street.

For a moment, I consider the proposition. After all, I am alone, wild and free. I am not attracted to dragons, crosses, or tribal motifs. Perhaps something literary. Words from a favorite author: Faulkner, McCarthy, Twain, or Papa Hemingway. Most are too verbose (except Papa) for skin, so I reconsider.

I decide to follow the guidance of another favorite author: Bragg. We both come from a generation where "if you have a tattoo, you better be a Marine, and if you have an earring, you damn sure better be a pirate."

Decide instead to hang out in my room overlooking the beautiful Gulf of Mexico. I check the cable news to see how much closer we've come to the Apocalypse in the last twenty-four. People are being gunned-down in the streets of Tripoli. Unrest is spreading and governments are in danger of toppling all across the Middle East. People are still digging out in New Zealand. The government is broke in Wisconsin (and every other State in the Union, by the way). And then there's Charlie Sheen, who gets at least fifty percent of the coverage.

Note to CNN, Fox, and CNBC. I am American. Screw this other stuff. MUST HAVE MORE CHARLIE SHEEN. Can he keep his kids? What about his show? What does his body language suggest? We MUST know, and we must know NOW.

I decide to spend the rest of the day reading, writing, and napping.

I have to attend a banquet tonight, but otherwise I could get used to this pace. Too bad it's just one day.

But I'll take it.