Random thought
Being an artist is seeing the world’s single file line and stepping out of place at the risk of losing rank. Then look inwards, backwards and finally forwards. Take a shortcut, but don’t get too far ahead of the pack lest ye be labeled a progressive madman AND don’t let too many people see you cutting in front of them in line lest ye be a fad.
Wow! We found the most spectacular beaches today, different but no less exciting or beautiful than the white sand beaches I saw in the Bahamas. Jenifer and I spent the day frolicking around the warm sand and because there wasn’t anybody around we were naked most of the time. We had sex and a picnic and we played in the massive sand dunes and collected seashells while drinking sodas and lukewarm Tecate beer. The water was very cold (it’s the Pacific, duh!) but I bodysurfed until my skin and lips were blue. I kept worrying that a big fish would come by and chomp on my dick, maybe thinking my cold shrinky penis was a minnow or something, but I stayed in the waves most of the time. I don’t know if staying in the waves makes any difference to fish that chomp, but it helped me not to worry. Hey I can worry about my penis if I want! It is also very relaxing to know that I could drown or get carried out to sea and nobody would be able to save my ass. When did I start thinking about stupid shit like that? Ever since I popped out of the womb I guess. Honestly the isolation made me get a peaceful feeling inside, partly because of the minute danger. The danger just reminded me how we were the only two people on Earth at that moment in time. The ONLY two people on Earth and it wasn’t scary, it wasn’t worrying about grades, it wasn’t having to go to a job or buying gas or dealing with our respective insane families it was just…nice. No that’s just the salt in my eyes really. It was a windy and tiring day but great. We found a couple of great beach spots, unfortunately a majority were spot marked with telltale litter. We just explored the oceanside with no particular agenda.
Today Jenifer and I drove down to the beach again in RedOne and just played in the sand off the coast. The water is still a little chilly, but the sunshine and the secluded embrace of the Pacific makes the wind and sand feel great. To stand and lean forward at a 45 degree angle while a sandy ocean breeze holds you aloft on top of giant dunes of Sahara-esque sand is incredible. We are still so alone out here and there are many more miles and miles of beaches to see. We had to alternate between warm clothes and total nudity, favoring warm clothes for the most part. It took forever to finally get warm again yesterday after swimming out in the Ocean. True to Mexico, a lot of the easier to reach beaches seem to have remnants of long forgotten parties; beer cans and used rubbers and the like, but for the most part it’s still an untapped desolate paradise. Each day we’ve explored a different path off the “road” in an effort to find the perfect beach but it’s all perfect for the most part.
Today our expedition got waylaid slightly due to the low clearance threshold of RedOne’s tires and the soft sand. We were temporarily stranded out in the middle of nowhere by a patch of moist beach sand where our tires could not find any purchase. We tried digging and putting driftwood under the tires in the back but only ended up peeling more sand out from under the car. It wasn’t a big deal as far as survival goes, we had all our food and camping equipment in the car, but it seemed like it could be weeks before anyone might come along this area. Or so we thought. From out of nowhere, an entire family of yuppies—Dad, Mom and 2.5 kids in a brand-spanking-new Land Rover with all the trimmings—comes bumping along the same road. We were waving our arms like crazy intent on getting their attention while I could see the wife on the passenger side in her soccer mom sweater telling her husband that they should get out of there, as if we might be vicious “banditos” or something. I think they realized our predicament pretty quickly, and once they confirmed we were white people, they seemed glad to help. Besides there was no place they could have turned around on the sandy path before getting to our car.
The husband got out and the wife and children stayed in the car. I imagine their conversation went like this “Stay here honey, I’ll handle this. If they try anything funny, lock all the doors.” I love to see the traditional family roles in action that people feel like they should still play out. (Just like when I go to Home Depot I had to explain to the guy what the problem was, what’s not working and the logistics of the formulas I’ve tried to work everything out with.) Jen and I could almost get our tires out of the hole the rear tires of the car had dug with her driving, but in order to get the guy to help me push we had to go through the motion of turning on the car, letting the tire spin and putting wood und the tire and show him that it wasn’t working. I told him “Look, if she can drive the car the two of us can push it out of this hole pretty easily. The car is not that heavy.” This must have seemed too easy for him or he really wanted to use his new toy because it just so happened that ‘family man’ went for the extra-extra option package on the Land Rover and got a winch for the front. So this desk jockey goes off on his repressed manly parade, determined to show off his outdoor survival skills for the sake of his watchful family, who by now realized we actually needed help and felt it was OK to get out of the car and stare at us from a distance. The guy attaches his winch to our bumper and I should mention that the bumper on a Ford Escort is just a piece of plastic with about the same strength as a cheap Storm Trooper Halloween mask from the early Star Wars days. He’s very careful not to get his dry cleaned Eddie Bauer pressed flannel “outdoor” shirt dirty as he’s attaching the winch while we are trying to politely convince him to just help give us a little push out of the sand instead of ripping the bumper off our car. Our clothes have been slept in for many days and both of our hair is starting to ‘dred’ up so we look as comfortably grungy as any decent road trip adventurer should, but we’re not vocal enough to protest since he’s trying to help and we don’t appear observably smart enough for him to want to listen. We’re tired and finally just let him play out his manly role and finally, after he almost rips the back bumper off of the car he acknowledges that I am right and within minutes of our combined efforts to simply push the car, we have the hole cleared. We politely said our thanks and drove off quickly to another beach to spend the night.
It’s still bitterly cold here at night. The wind off the Pacific on both sides is pretty intrusive. I think the cold water in my ears is making me come down with a cold, but it might just be the inhalation of saltwater wreaking havoc on my sinuses and grinding against my skin. We both slept in the car (again), no biggie, and I lit a giant fire to cook some food and get little stinky warmth before we huddled in the car and listened to the great roar of the ocean.