I got my feet wet in the same water Odysseus swam in, and even when I don´t plan on giving my feet a little bath in the Mediterranean, if I´m sitting on the beach next to Sean with a bottle of Sangria between us, I can´t help but stand in the inches high waves on the Spanish edge of that very long sea. Really, the beach itself smells, looks, and feels like Ocean City, the beach that´s sharpest in my memory, except serious incidents of historical importance happened on these waters I´m sitting by now, and some of these incidents didn´t even happen in reality, but only in the voice of poets long ago. To be fair to the O.C., I guess some cool stuff happened on the Atlantic Ocean too, but nothing as cool as Odysseus stabbing a cyclops in the eye. And let´s be honest about our old crabby Maryland beach now, nothing of real historical importance ever happened in Ocean City, besides some dude maybe eating the world´s best funnel cake, and even that´s a stretch. I hear the cakes are better in Chicago.
Beaches are seductive, and I don´t think it´s because of the semi-nude figures switching from cavorting and lounging. It´s the rhythm of the waves. Like other seductive things, the power is in the rhythm that can´t be perfectly kept, because it´s consistantly broken by spontaneity. Chaotically joyous, it keeps your interest, tempts you to understand it, and when you´re convinced that the waves are breaking just in this certain way, a tall one rises in the distance unexpectedly. So you grin, drink some sangria, eat a pistachio, and console yourself that it´s okay to never understand the sea because probably Jacques Cousteau never really understood it either. Then you resume trying to understand the sea because there´s nothing around you that´s quite as captivating as it is, not even the pretty blond girl with long hair that billows in the wind. She´s standing in the water getting her feet wet, looking at the milky distance of the same sea Aeneas once sailed, and probably understanding it better than you are.
this was totally better before the girl came into it.
ReplyDeletealso, i miss the sea. and i want a pistachio.
I was taking a swim in the Medi this morning and thinking about this blog entry a little more, and I realized that first off, these thoughts really are incomplete and should be finished soon, and secondly, the ending of this blog with the girl goes pretty much nowhere and isn´t necessary. I´m leaving it as it is though. ¿Was that what you were thinking about it? Don´t they have pistachios in Santa Fe
ReplyDeletethat's mostly it. the sea just... is, you know? when you put a third party into it, somehow the power and mystery slips away. it dilutes the sea, big as the sea is.
ReplyDeletethey do have pistachios in santa fe. but i don't have any of the pistachios.
I was thinking you would have missed Sangria too.
ReplyDeletethere is more sangria in this town than you would believe. you could become a cousteau of sangria in this town.
ReplyDelete