Yesterday it was sunny and hot, maybe close to 90 degrees with a decent breeze, low humidity, felt FABULOUS. I wait all year for this, so I get a little giddy when it finally arrives and some cloud is not pissing on me. I went down to the marina to drink a yummy pineapple-mango-coconut smoothie and do a little people watching from a bench overlooking the lake. It was a cornucopia of visual delights, in many different ways. So, imagine me, on the bench, the tiny gray brown beach to my right, marina with bobbing big boats to my left, and a fair expanse of grass and a walkway ahead of me just in front of the water. Everyone was out. Here are a few of the Everyones:

  • The Obviously European Fashion Boys. If I had a hunnerd bucks on me, and if I had found a dumby willing to bet against me, I would’ve have bet and WON that these three dudes were not American, Canadian, or some other such mutt-like people. No, I think Italian, like Milan or Florence Italian. Perfectly-gelled spiky expensive haircuts, very thin and tall with a fashionable amount of fitness applied, premium denim, carefully and evenly rolled at the bottom with wide, flat cuffs to avoid lake wetting. No American dude is gonna roll their pants like that, no way, you kidding me? They were evenly tanned, sported some light jewelry, and had on black or white button-down shirts with the short sleeves further carefully and evenly rolled to expose the correct amount of bicep. My gaydar went off on one of them, but I could not be sure. He might have been just extra-incredibly European.
  • The Obviously European Guido-Type Boys (+ Their Girlies): Italian or Greek, the nemeses of the OEFB above. They had serious slow STRUT going on in their board shorts and no shirt thing. Steroids seem to have been ingested, and they had that crab-like roll to their gaits. Their jewelry was significantly heavier, as their muscles could clearly handle a fence-chain or two. They had bagged two hotties, too: one a reedy blonde in a black bikini, the other a slightly more buxom girl with long black hair, who tottered on what looked like 5” heels. Both the girls had on quite the makeup, and carried those incredibly large purses with all kinds of studs and jewels and buckles and other adornments that let you know it is well worth the $1250.00. In one of the McMansion totes was a Chihuahua. OF COURSE, you say. But this Accessory Dog was so small that it could have stood and pooped out its rabbit pellets in my hand. I stared at it, and imagined that it could well be a kitten, or a wingless bat, or a rather large spider from a tropical jungle. After a short time, the Totterer stuffed KittenBatSpider into her bag, and the four of them slowly crabbed off to one of the boats tied at the closest dock. I felt pretty sure a rousing game of canasta and a few ice-cold cans of Sprite were in their evening plans.
  • The Notably-Fit MILF: Maybe the hottest girl on the beach that day, and there were some very nice looking wimminz. She was tiny, maybe 5’2” or so, and maybe 100 pounds. She had short brownish hair, was deeply tanned, and wore a small bikini top with a pair of low-rise jean Capri pants and chunky heels. Not an ounce of jiggle on her, oh no. Her arms, back, and legs were toned and muscles and damn if she didn’t have six-pack abs. I saw that she had a couple of kids, looked to be in her mid-30s. I bow to you, ma’am, as I know how hard you have to work to get and keep that body. Well, I imagine I know, because I would never get that body even if I did devote my life to obtaining it. The only thing that was not attractive about her were the giant veins on her forearms and hands, like our workout pal, Madonna. I wondered if that bothered her much, but I bet it didn’t.
  • The Old Dude/Filipino Bride Combo: Holy man. Holding hands down the walkway, we have a big guy in a polo shirt and shorts, with the whole black socks/white tennis shoes thing going on. He must have been in his upper 60s if not his 70s. His paramour also had on extremely high heels (is this proper beach footwear? am I missing something? ah, well.) and had a great deal of difficulty walking as her feet shifted awkwardly in them. I was waiting for an ankle turn at any moment. My eyes where drawn up from her feet to legs, as I imagine everyone else’s were. She was wearing thigh-high sheer stockings, with the dark brown tops of the stockings very visible, uncovered by her very very very very short flippy black skirt. Her shirt was ruched with many ties and sported a giant bronzy-gold metallic cat design with the words “I’M A PUSSYCAT” on it. Her black hair was long and permed into ringlets, and she wore massive black sunglasses with the Chanel logo on the stems. It was almost impossible to tell her age, but it seemed as though she had tottered around the block a few times. They made a most interesting couple, and I was glad for their love.
  • The Adorable Little Boy: There are always lots and lots of cute kiddies at the beach, ploching around in the muck, meeting the various dogs that come by, giggling when a speedboat wave finally makes it their way and knocks them over. But this little guy caught my eye. He was about six or so in a green and white rash guard. He was quiet and spent most of his time gathering up some precious rocks, glancing at his father every so often. He had long, almost shoulder length dark chocolate brown hair, and a face that would turn seriously handsome in another ten or fifteen years. Sometimes you see children like this; when I was doing children’s portraits my eye got trained to see them, the ones that would grow to be beauties. I wondered sometimes, would that beauty be spoiled someday just by their knowing it? Sometimes that happens too. And often the more interesting photo subject is not at all classically good-looking, but you are able to bring out what is wonderful and lovable and unique in them.
I could have sat there well into the evening, but I had to go. I did not get sunburned, I finished the yummy smoothie, and flat-sandalled my way home.