WHY BEACHES ARE SO ROMANTIC By R.L. Huffstutter

BEACHES ARE VERY MUCH LIKE MOUNTAINS in that they attract people from all other geographical areas; beaches attract people from the plains because there are no beaches on the plains. Kansas residents, for example, have only to drive five or six hours and they are in the Rocky Mountains. The beaches are still many miles in the distance. So, what is the magic attraction about beaches, mountains and Kansas? Kansas? Who mentioned Kansas?

Okay, I mentioned Kansas because I am tired of the flatest state in the United States always getting a bad rap because of its geographical features. What about political correctess here? Bashing Kansas is akin to bashing tall, skinny people in some ways. For example, if my Aunt Mary had told me to stay away from tall, skinny people because they were underfed and aloof, the two having both cause and effect upon their condition, there would be public censure of my beloved and departed aunt because of her predjudice against people of such stature. Actually, Aunt Mary once told me that some of her best friends were tall and skinny. Thus, when I confronted her on her demeaning comments about tall and skinny folks, she retorted that she meant no malice, that it was only her experience with a basketball player while attending Kansas University that caused her to adopt such judgment. May aunt Mary rest in peace; she married time and again and never really found true love.

Perhaps she should have gone to the beach or to Colorado Springs in search of romance. Afterall, can one expect to find the love of one's life in Quinter, Kansas, or Goodland, Kansas? And no, not even Hayes, Kansas.

They are, however, great little towns; I have spent some time in each one forementioned. My Morris Minor broke down in the middle of a winter night back in 1967 while I was headed for Pikes Peak to write poetry. What an experience. It was most unpleasant, explaining to my wife why in the hell I had gotten it in my mind to leave the home to go write poetry on a mountaintop. She was not a happy woman. It was, I believe, her first clue that she was in for a most trying marriage. Well, here it is 2009 and we are still together. I have yet to become famous as a poet and I no longer have my Morris Minor, two sad realities that could cause me to go on a binge if I still drank.

Thank God, I got rid of that nasty habit when the doctor told me not to expect to live to see him again if I continued trying to drink a fifth of Smirnoff every day. But about the beach. Actually, there is no one beach that is romantic, they are all romantic. No, the beaches during World War Two were not romantic and never will be to the men who fought for them. But for those who have walked the beach at Waikaikai hand in hand as man and wife, man and lover, lover and woman, or whatever combination thereof, beaches are romantic.

There are memories. Oh, yes, the sound of the surf, the thunderous roar of the breakers as they rush into the boulders along the shore. There is the infinite sound of the sea birds at all hours, even in the hours after midnight, one can hear the sound of the sand piper or some kind of waterfowl as it scurries along in the sand far from where you lay with your lover, embracing, making memories to remember some far off time in the future. Yes, beaches are so romantic, so different than mountain tops, so different than Kansas.

ANNA MARIE ISLAND FLORIDA BEACHES BY R.L.HUFFSTUTTER

The island has a number of beaches. There's Anna Maria beach, Holmes Beach, Bradenton Beach, Coquina Beach, all on the Gulf (or west side); on the Tampa Bay side of the island, there's one long beach that boasts calmer and gentler waters; it's called "Three Piers" and features views of the Skyway bridge and Tampa's high rise building.

One of a number of watercolor paintings of

Anna Maria Island by Robert L. Huffstutter

THE BEACHES OF ANNA MARIE ISLAND

watercolor paintings by Robert L. Huffstutter

Until 2005, I had never been to Florida; I had always assumed the beaches of California were the only ones that mattered. Afterall, having studied elementary geography, I knew that Florida was flat, almost at sea-level, so there would be no dramatic cliffs or hairpin curves around the Gulf or Atlantic like the ones between Santa Barbara and San Francisco on the Pacific Coast Highway. Florida was flat; it still is flat. But I can't deny that many of its beaches are more beautiful than a few of the lesser beaches in California. One thing about the flatland around the beaches that's positive is that there are very few steep ravines where a high-speed vehicle could careen into if out of control. What I like best about Florida beaches is the water temperature. It is so much warmer than the Pacific waters around Santa Monica and Laguna. Oh, the palm trees are more diverse--and taller. Well, the palms around the Beverly Hills Hotel are taller, probably the tallest in the world, but there's a reason and that reason is the celebrities who out hang out around there would not settle for less. I have wondered if the palms there are super-injected with a tall growth hormone of some type. Hey, this makes no sense and has nothing to do with Florida. Yes, I love the Florida beaches because the waters are warmer. At least the Gulf in July is so warm that I do not have to take test runs and get my courage up. It's simple: go to one of the beaches on Anna Marie, plop down the towels and hydration kits, the shades, a chair or two, and head into the the water. From the first time I felt the warmth of the Gulf, I knew I would be spending time floating about, relaxing.

The only problem I have with the island is remembering the correct spelling. ANNA MARIA ISLAND

A BEACH BACK BENEATH A PIER

THERE ARE THOSE BEACHES

BACK BENEATH THE PIER

OW MANY YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE WE MET AT THAT OLD PIER BY CHANCE? IT WAS A SUMMER KIND OF ROMANCE, ONE WE KNEW WOULD NOT LAST. YOU WERE FROM SOME LITTLE LAKE TOWN DOWN IN UPSTATE NEW YORK AND YOU ASKED ME WHY I DECIDED TO SPEND TIME IN BAR HARBOR, MAINE. YOU LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD YOU I HAD NEVER HAD LOBSTER WITH A MAINE BAKED POTATO OR WRITTEN A BEST SELLER. YOUR EYES SPARKLED LIKE THE STARS WE SAW AS WE LINGERED AND STAYED ON THAT RICKETY OLD PIER. WHEN THE ATLANTIC'S NIGHT WIND BEGAN BLOWING IT MADE YOU SHIVER. WE EMBRACED AND SPENT THE REST OF THE SUMMER TOGETHER IN THE CABINS WE HAD RENTED IN ADVANCE UNTIL SEPTEMBER TO GET AWAY FROM LIFE LONG ENOUGH TO FALL IN LOVE. IT'S A WONDER WE NEVER WROTE EACH OTHER EVEN ONCE, BUT I THINK WE BOTH KNEW IT WOULD BE BETTER BECAUSE WE SENSED OUR LOVE WAS TOO PERFECT TO LAST ANYWAY. WE WERE SO ROMANTIC, YET SO FATAL AND SO SELFISH TOO. WE WERE TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND THAT PASSION COULD BE DIVIDED. WE WERE UNWISE. ARE YOU STILL THE DEAN OF THAT ALL GIRLS SCHOOL? YOU DIDN'T KNOW I KNEW, OR DID YOU? MAYBE WE WILL MEET AGAIN SOME SUMMER, BUT THE OLD PIER, AS YOU MUST KNOW, FINALLY FELL IN THE WINTER OF EIGHTY-NINE. IT WAS ON THE COVER OF MY LAST BEST SELLER.

ELECTRIC BEACH PEOPLE HAVING FUN BENEATH A BLUE ELECTRIC SKY

THE SKY SUDDENLY CHANGED

AND BECAME A COOL BLUE

paintprogram image/sketch/painting by Robert L. Huffstutter