Monday, June 14, 2010

Stop It.

Summer doesn't really get going at the beach in Venice until more like July. It's funny to watch the news and hear about scorching temps in the Valley or wherever, when you're in a sweater and still a little chilled. I guess the bonus to that is that the Summer lasts longer, all clear and warm until well into the Fall. I guess.

So you put on that sweater and you go for a walk along the beach. You see a seal dying in front of your eyes, being tossed around in the shore break. There's nothing you can do, but tell a lifeguard and walk away, with the image seared into your brain like a cattle brand for the rest of the day, and probably life. Moving on, you almost slice your foot off on a brown, jagged, broken bottle bottom. 'Cause it makes total sense to leave behind glass bottles where little toddlers squeal around in the sand.

You walk a little further up and see a sad bunch of wilted balloons being pushed around in the foam like the seal. Disgusted, you pick them up and take them to the garbage can, only to find it FULL of other balloons inside (at least SOME people bother to put them in the cans)! Folks - your kids will still have a happy birthday without bringing murderous (to sea life) balloons along to the beach. They'll probably like it more, since balloons are kind of creepy/terrifying if they pop. So be forewarned, I will slap your face if I see you at the beach leaving balloons (or cigarettes) behind. I will, and I'm a pacifist. Up off the beach, I see it's phone book delivery time, as every house I cruise past has one on their front steps. WHO in the world still uses big fat phone books anymore? We do not need them, they're a waste of paper and trees, and a complete hassle to even have around, falling out of your cupboard, heavy with lack of use. (Click HERE now to Opt Out of getting them).

Dumb. Stop it.

Feeling rather irked, I pedaled away from the beach, waving to some friendly faces, stopping for a fun chat or two, which changed the whole vibe straight away. I went past the big old Rip Cronk mural of Abbot Kinney on Venice & Pacific, and thought about that dude, Mr. Kinney. How visionary and cool he was, to create such a lasting legacy of a place out of a dream he had. And how we really should honor him by taking a little better care of the joint.

Plus you don't really want to get slapped at the beach, on your sunburn that still got you, through the clouds.