California Beaches

I went to the beach yesterday and it was good.

But I was thinking about what it means to me.

I think California beaches are highly underrated.

While it is true, we don’t have white sand as Florida or warm water as Grand Cayman Island.

It is still ours, to enjoy and to remember always, that we can go there if we want.

But how many thoughts run through my mind as I sit on the sand.

So many times and stories are connected to the beach… or should I say the ocean in its entirety.

 

When in high school, I slept there, building a makeshift sand bar up against the cliffs of Point Dume in Malibu.

All was well till sometime around three a.m. when the water came crashing over us, as we hurriedly scrambled for warmth straight up the cliffs to our car where we spent the rest of the night partying.  In the morning only to see our towels and blankets strewn up the side of the cliff. 

 

I remember hearing a story right before a scuba diving adventure off Nassau Island where one of the local ‘deep’ divers went down well over a hundred feet which is the normal limit for a casual diver with his buddy.  The story goes that they may have been two hundred feet deep or more but the only one to surface was the buddy of this fellow.  The fellow’s body was never found and was always thought to be an intentional murder by the townspeople.

 

Then I remember laying on Point Dume beach with a buddy from my first ‘real’ job at Lynda Ann Sportswear in North Hollywood.  His name was Howard and before CDs there were cassettes.  We used to take a boom box with about fifty cassettes and we thought it was cool.  We would play Supertramp and Billy Joel blasting so the folks would have to move away forming a perfect circle around us.  Funny how as a kid you might find behavior fulfilling and cool but after growing up, it just seems so rude.  But that is what happened and again, I haven’t forgotten.

 

I recall meeting my son and his mother on Point Dume beach as well.  Remember picking up my friend Warren from his house, going to the beach and deciding to take a walk where I stumbled across them.  With a feeble attempt at some attention I said something to the affect of ‘hey you’ and they said ‘hello’ back as odd as it seems.  We all three sat down on the beach where after a while, Chris my son who was seven years old at the time, wrote their phone number down on a piece of paper and handed it to me as he gave a rendition of ‘Mockingbird’ slapping his hand in the sand for a beat.  You see, he was always talented his entire life, genuine, loving and charming.  I instantly fell in love with him and my life was forever changed.

 

I recall everything as I lie on the beach, man moments and stories that have been told but only one is in the forefront of my mind.  My Father who passed away two years ago was cremated and cast to sea and this is where I go to visit and remember him.  I say a prayer and hope he is listening, knowing that I will see him again one day I am sure.  And this is really a nice place for a memorial I truly believe.  Much better than a cemetery which is questionably run by someone you may not even like.  The ocean was created by God if that is one’s belief.  It is magnificent, glorious and bountiful as it’s shores reach far and wide. 

 

Whenever I look at the ocean I will forever think of my Dad.  God bless him as anyone who knew him would feel blessed in his presence.  Imperfect yes but with small qualities of compassion, sensitivity and humor which surpassed most men’s attributes.  He was always faithful and never left the family.  Extremely sensitive and wouldn’t hurt a fly.  Never raised his voice in anger and was hardly ever angry.  He loved my Mother with all of his heart and it showed immensely.  He was a role model in many ways and I loved him.

 

So, that was my day at the beach as my thoughts ran through my mind of how very beautiful a day it really was!   

 

 

Allen