I spent years wondering why so many people enjoyed the beach. Have you ever really looked at those tourists baking like lobsters in the heat of a summer's day? They don't seem like they're having fun. My parents dragged me to Anna Maria Island or Clearwater Beach a few times. I marveled at crowds of future skin cancer patients and wondered why they weren't inside with a nice cold beer and cable television.
When a seagull pooped on my head, I wondered the same thing about me.
As I got older, my outlook didn't improve. Whenever I put on a bikini, friends complained that the glare of my pale, white skin was worse than the sun. Years later, after I gave birth to twins, getting half-naked in public caused onlookers to threaten litigation, citing psychological damage and bleeding eyeballs.
Then, three things happened: I had a tummy-tuck, spent one landlocked year in Colorado and learned to relax. When we moved back to Tampa two years ago, I started making the beach a regular destination for family outings.
We discovered ways to enjoy ourselves, even with sand up our ass. Here's how:
Avoid the leather look. Load up on sunblock SPF 30 or higher and don't forget hats, cover-ups, sunglasses and shade. There is nothing sexy about sunburn, and pale is the new black. Besides, hats come in handy when you find yourself directly underneath flying animals with digestive issues.
Don't feed the birds. Sorry to harp on this topic, but my God, have you seen what comes out of them after a few bites of a hot dog?
Arrive early or late. The best beach locations get crowded. Arrive early in the morning, just after sunrise, to snag the best spots. You don't have to worry about the damaging rays of the sun at that hour. Stay until late morning and leave before everyone gets cranky. Another option is to get there at dusk and watch one of our area's celebrated sunsets. The best establishments from Hudson to St. Petersburg have music, happy hour and beach bums who know all the words to Jimmy Buffett songs. Applaud with the people you love, happy and content, because you made it through another beautiful day without killing each other.
Supervise your kids. Don't let them go into the water alone. Didn't you see Jaws? Or that creep in a Speedo hanging around your 12-year-old?
Bring a cooler. Stock it full of food and drinks. If you're like me, a concession stand offering the same garbage they serve at NASCAR events isn't an option. Kids get hungry and dehydrated quickly, and so do grownups. But be careful. Many beaches don't allow alcohol. Personally, I believe that's why God created paper cups. Line up a few bottled waters and soda cans, for show, and keep your voice down. If you're partying with assholes who are loud and laughing inappropriately at that creep in a Speedo, don't blame me when they haul you in.
When living in Florida, surrounded by rednecks and Confederate flags, it makes sense to focus on our strengths. Enjoy the breeze and the water. Just don't forget the sunblock.
Catherine Durkin Robinson, a popular presence on the Daily Loaf and at her own blog, Out in Left Field, contributes regularly to Creative Loafing.
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This article appears in May 13-19, 2010.