Klowns in my Koffee

Daily Kup (And the thunder rolls ...)


For two days in a row, I've taken the kids to the local beach to escape the sizzling heat. Between thunderstorms, we've hit the beach with our large plastic shovel and inflatable beach ball. The kids splash, dogpaddle, run on the beach and exert themselves into tired little piles of wet Lycra and sand. They are SO cooperative when soggy that a whole new management philosophy is suggested. If every recalcitrant executive had to do ten cannonballs in a row, the result might be a kinder, gentler business atmosphere and more naps.

I am gratified to see that there are women at the beach who look worse than I do. Not many, but there are some and I cling to this slender thread for solace. Besides, positive attitude has got to count for something.

At the local park, there were maintenance items everywhere labeled like this. I thought at first there was a graffiti artist loose with a limited repertoire. Then I realized: Shady Oak Beach.

Either way, I bet this labeling limits pilferage.

Yesterday, I observed a bald, middle-aged man frolicking in the water. He had his back to me and I marveled at the ingenious watershirt that he was wearing with its intricate cable knit patterns. Then I noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt. (Involuntary shudder)

The phrase "Life is a Beach" is thirty years past clever. Still, the analogy works:

+ Enjoy the sandcastle now -- it will be gone with the tide or the next running toddler.

+ It's OK to jump from on high, but keep a firm hold on your waistband.

+ Don't ignore a whistle.

+ If you are constantly claiming to be drowning, then no one will save you when you really are.

+ Most things eventually settle down -- sand in water, and weight distribution in a bathing suit.

+ If the signs say that there are rocks under the water, don't dive anyway without doing some research.

+ You can go somewhere or you can tread water. It really doesn't matter to anyone else.

+ Don't choose to swim through -- or make -- suspiciously warm areas.

+ Nobody is as interested in anything about you as you think they are. You are, at best, a momentary source of amusement or annoyance before people go back to thinking about themselves.

+ And, finally: In the end, it's up to you to learn to swim.















A Caffeinated Toast!
I was delighted to hear today that fellow Porkus refugee and spousal unit of frequent blog commenter/talented local artisan Kim B has secured a new and promising job! Way to go!