This Used To Be My Backyard

Sur fside Beach 1985-shot with a telephoto lens that I think I used once, for this picture

So when you sit around and idly contemplate winning Da Lottery, I betcha that the first thing you dream of is an opulent beach house.

Well...believe it or not, I used to live in an oceanfront apartment. Yes. Really. I'll even give you the address: 17 N. Seaside Drive, Surfside Beach, SC. The rent was $450. Feel free to pay a homage visit, except that the apartment I lived in now sleeps with the fishes. Hurricane Hugo washed the entire building out to sea in 1989.

You think you want to live at the beach?

No, you don't.

Well, ok, now you're just staring at me like I expressed sincere pity for supermodels being as they are all insanely hot, young, rich, and thin and all.

Ok, ask yourself a few questions first.

1. Do I have a huge circle of caring friends with long life expectancies?

Because you will never make another friend again without wondering if they really like you or just like sitting on your deck, drinking your Bud Light and watching your waves.

Ok, try this: Call up every friend you have now and announce, pitifully, that you're homeless and broke and would like to live when them while you "get yourself on your feet." If they ring off by saying, "Let me just go change the sheets in the guestroom," then you're cool. If they suddenly remember an urgent appointment with their proctologist, you may want to reconsider this beach life stuff.

Honestly, I want to bitchslap myself silly when I think of the way I used to behave during the two summers I lived on the ocean.

Saturday would roll around and the phone would ring:

Shallow Person Pretending To Be My Friend: Hey! Wazzzzzup?
Me: Well, not much...seeing as how I'm still asleep....
SPPPTBMF: Whacha doin today?
Me: Well, I was planning on having coffee, reading the paper, and maybe picking my nose.
SPPTBMMF: How about if we drop by for awhile?
Me: Ok.

This was, my friends, in the days before Caller ID, affordable answering machines, and before I actually grew a spine. Today I'd either let the phone ring, or answer the Wassup question by earnestly informing the caller that I was googling "cure for running open sores."

I never saw most of these "friends" again after the summer ended.

2. What would happen to my possessions if I filled a large humidifier with salt water and turned it on full blast?

Sea air destroys everything after awhile. Go out to your car and drench every inch of your engine with salty water. Be sure to include the undercarriage. Put your cherished books in a room and watch them mold. Don't forget the air conditioning/heating unit! They work much better after salty air/water gets into them.

3. Can I pack up every sentimental possession in a small box that can fit into the back of a car filled with kids and pets while I'm fleeing the imminent hurricane?

I have friends who lost everything in Hugo. Everything. And I guess the word Katrina rings a bell, too.

and the most important question of all...

4. Can you think of anything in life that doesn't become routine after awhile?

Sadly, the human mind simply lacks the capacity to operate at Full Thrill Mode for long. Yes, the first night we lived at the beach was magical. By the end of the week it was routine, boring, mundane.

I still want to be insanely hot, young, and thin.

But I never want to live at the beach again.