QUENCHING THE THIRST FOR SURF

The new, nature-based art class I just started is being taught by a young woman who grew up on the Oregon coast, in a very nature-lovin' family. After spending most of her young-adulthood in a southern-Cal metropolis, she and her little family have just recently relocated to the town where she grew up. This class, I think, is her way of sharing the joy that she feels over being back home. Several of the videos we have seen show them strolling along the beach or playing in the surf, and I haff ta tell ya, it's really given me The Urge!

You see, other than those ten or twelve years spent in the Dallas burbs and west Texas, we have spent the rest of our thirty-seven-year marriage within an hour of the ocean, including one oh-so-memorable stint on Java, where we actually lived in a bungalow right on the beach!

I don't know that I love being in the ocean all that much, but I love, love, love being near it. It has always been one of those creative-trance-inducing things for me. I love watching it, hearing it, and could spend hours and hours walking along the beaches beside it, scanning for treasures and becoming ever-more lost in my imagination. It's like free hypnosis or therapy for me.

Anyhoo, like I said before, I've really had the yen for some beach-time lately, and when two different sets of friends mentioned going to Port Aransas this summer, my antennae perked up. Growing up, Padre and Galveston where the places to go if you wanted to do cool stuff like shop and surf (or at least, ogle the surfers). Port A. was where you went if you were serious about fishin'. I wasn't, so I didn't. I think those lines must have blurred over the years, and since it's the easiest place to get to from here, I decided it was worth looking into. When I asked my young friend Kris for recommendations on where to stay and eat, she sent me the names of all the "nice" places, thinking that's what we old people would probably prefer. I sent a note back to her, saying "We're not all that picky. All I really need is a not-too-crowded beach for my early morning walks, maybe a nearby coffee shop where I can hang out and write or sketch until my hubby decides to get up. We don't need any gourmet food, just some decent shrimp and oysters. Oh, and John will need a bar with a deck where he can hang out and bikini- people-watch."

A short while later she sent me the link to this place, touted to be "among the last authentic Beach Bars in the U.S." She said "I've been wanting to check this bar out for a while. Now you can try it for me, and let us know what you think." Bar? That's no bar! That's everything I just asked for, all rolled into one place! I sent a note back to her saying "We're gonna do more than just check it out for you. We're gonna stay there!"

Know what's the very best thing about being retired? It's being able to wait and go in early September, mid-week, when most everyone else is back in school or at work, but it's still hotter 'n blazes here in Texas.Woohoo!