At the beach, life is different.
Most can only take "different" in small doses, going to the beach for a weekend or a week or two.
They have to manage being "different" while the rest of us embrace it as a complete and total lifestyle.
The beach is a world of extremes.
There's too much contemplation and too many opportunities to have fun.
Living here means you swing both of those ways because you can overdose on too much of either.
As my friend Jane Fishman told me, "On an island everybody is either running to, or from, something."
Plus there's lots of water ... and lots of alcohol.
Both are used for baptisms.
Life moves slower, probably because we're constantly confused about which way we're heading ... contemplation or fun ... to someone or from ... seeking forgiveness or just diving back in for more sins ... sunrise or sunset?
I've got friends on both sides.
The contemplative ones are all involved with the Government, passing laws, making policies and forever sprucing up Paradise.
The fun ones only notice when one of the Government's numerous employees ... policemen and policy enforcers ... pull them over to arrest us, give our dogs a ticket or issue a "Stop Work" order.
I try to slide under both radars, strolling with the dogs and a little Blessing or two, by the Back River, inhaling the smell of the Marsh, listening to the Mussels tick and pop in the mud which naturally makes you think about sex.
It's a different way to live.
My Mom will be the first to tell you I've always been different.
I've been much happier once I accepted it.
I feel really bad for those who haven't and are still trying to fit in.
Which are you?
I want to know who to say prayers for tonight.
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