I was down in Ocean City, MD, recently, enjoying some beautiful weather and Thrasher fries and being amazingly out of touch with teh internets. Unplugging can be a beautiful thing, at least for a time. Unfortunately, if you need to interact with other parts of the world, being unplugged can be mighty inconvenient. Email tends to pile up.
On the beach, I was noticing all these aging bodies with their sad tattoos and thinking that for most people, tattoos are really only attractive -- if at all -- for a short period of your late youth. Look, I'm not young and I've never in my life been confused for chiseled, but I can guarantee you that my modest spread would look even worse with a tattoo adorning my sagging tapestry. As you might guess, the "tramp stamp" does not age well.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, our lifeguard was a great trip. Every few hours another lifeguard would relieve him, and he would use his break to do pushups and crunches behind the lifeguard chair, much to the delight of the ladies and perhaps a few men. He became even more intriguing one day when he called the beachgoers over to his chair for the obligatory shorebreak speech and unleashed his foreign accent on the assembly. Turns out he was Quebecois, a fact we discovered the day we moved out of our rental apartment only to realize we'd been living next to him the whole week.
Speaking of our little rental apartment, we had a little surprise when we arrived late on Sunday night. The typical move-in day in the OC is Saturday, but we were otherwise occupied, so someone else picked our keys up and held them for us until we arrived...late Sunday night. So around midnight, we're coming up to the door of the place and the TV is on. I turn the key and come face to face with some shirtless man who turns out to be the owner of the unit who thought no one had rented it that week. A little embarrassing all around, but he picked his sheet and pillow up off the sofa and drove off in his truck to parts unknown.