Beach Ball IV is Here

It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday. The regular crowd shuffles in.

There’s a nude man sitting next to me, asking me where I have been.

I said, “Dude I am here for the melodies. I’m not really sure how they’ll go. But I’ll bet they’ll be great while the crowd fills their plates and strips off all of those stupid clothes.”

La da da diddy daaaa…

La da diddy daaaaa da da…

Sing us a song, oh Whoever Band! Sing us a song tonight! Cause we’re all in the mood for a melody, and our pants were feeling too tight.

I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Consider this to my contribution to today’s music festivities.

Someone asked me last week if I play a musical instrument and, I don’t. Not because I wouldn’t love to, but I’m pretty sure my left hand is operated by someone else. Perhaps by remote control.

Anyway, I doubt you’ve come to hear about my left hand, so I’ll tell you about the right one. It’s easily my favorite.

I use it for everything. Eating, brushing my teeth… It’s really no surprise it’s become so good at a variety of things. Maybe if lefty got his act together we’d give him a little more responsibility.

For example, show me you can throw something without me looking like a 4 year old girl. Just pick up something and do it. You clearly don’t listen to me, so take some damn initiative. What is it with you, guy?

Whatever. I don’t have time for this. It’s a big day here at the park, and it’s not too late to get here. Not even close.

So when you think about what you’re going to do today, or even tomorrow, what’s there to think about? Exactly.

This is going to be good.

The Perfect End To The Perfect Weekend

I came here for some writing inspiration and, as it turns out, I’m now only inspired to write while I’m here.

It’s not that surprising. When I’m not here, I don’t do anything that would inspire.

Sure, I can tell you all about Ancient Aliens. Or my weekly visit to the grocery store. The walks in which my dog and I chase squirrels through the park.

Ok there was this time when we were outsmarted by one and somehow became wrapped around a tree. My dog was choking and I was bleeding. The squirrel was laughing. All the squirrels were laughing.

So my best story from months and months of life is the time I was intellectually bested by an animal that has a 50/50 chance of getting across the street.

I can’t imagine they’re suicidal. Then again, I’ve never seen my friend carried away by a hawk.

Squirrel 1: Where’s Bill?

Squirrel 2: (Lowers and shakes head)

Squirrel 3: Oh man. Roaring beast with wheels?

Squirrel 2: No. Flying claw monster.

Squirrel 1: Poor bastard. What is it with those guys? They are such a-holes.

Squirrel 3: I mean, we’re all just squirrels trying to get a nut, ya know? Sometimes I want to throw myself into a wheel beast stampede.

As you might have guessed, I have an active imagination. It’s like I said when I was 8, “This is the right imagination for me. I think I’ll keep it.”

I would like to take this moment in time to thank God I am not a squirrel and that my chances of being carried away by a bird of prey are strongly in my favor. I’d also like to respectfully request you don’t make birds any larger. Amen.

Oh yes. What I actually sat down to write about.

After a perfect weekend of the perfect amount of social interaction and quiet relaxation, I decided to go get a sandwich. (All of my stories will have a sandwich somewhere.)

As I reached the gate, I was stopped by friends notifying me of the impromptu live jam happening at the pavilion. And of course, I told them I would be there soon.

About 30 minutes later I would pull up to the pavilion in my golf cart and park next to a row of golf carts sitting in front of the stage.

If you’ve never sat in the front row of a live jam session in your golf cart at dusk, that is the spice of life you are missing. Good music, good friends, beautiful weather and all in one of the happiest places on this planet.

I am a lucky, lucky man.

Speaking of good music and friends, the Annual Beach Ball Music Festival is August 8th. If you haven’t made plans for that weekend, don’t, unless you’re coming here. Then it’s fine. Just hurry, though.

The World Is My ___________

Last night was karaoke night, but I didn’t go. I wasn’t feeling great, and I certainly can’t lay down my rendition of “Bad To The Bone” with a tummy ache.

So what did I do? I watched a movie and fell asleep at some absurdly early hour. Which made me wake up at an absurdly early hour. So now I’m bored and thought I would do this. Lucky you.

“Wow, Mayo, we can’t wait to hear the thoughts your boredom inspires.” I know.

It’s not that there’s nothing to do right now. I’m sure there’s a group at the clubhouse having coffee right now. I would be there, but my chair is here.

I also can’t annunciate… what do you call them… “words” before 9 am (PDT) and especially not before I’ve had my weight in coffee.

Anywho. What were we talking about? That’s right. My chair. So comfortable. I might glue it to my back today.

One of the greatest things about this place is whatever your mood, there’s something for you.

Like, if I want to go hang out in the sun today and play games, I can do it. On the other hand,  if I decide to go get some industrial strength adhesive and permanently attach myself to furniture, that’s well within my grasp.

The world is my oyster. So I guess I’m trying to figure out what to do with my oyster today.

Wait. I don’t want to live in an oyster. That’s a horrible reference. It’s like the liver of the sea. I’m coming up with a new one.

The world is my Kit Kat.

Ok that’s good. I’ll be using that one moving forward. I’d advise you to go this way, though you can stick with that oyster crap if you want. It doesn’t even make sense.

I mean, I get the pearl thing, but do you think a pearl is happy living in an oyster? I’d rather live in a shark or something. That’s good eating. Oysters filter impurities from the sea water, or more scientifically, sea dookie. That’s a pearl’s house.

And then its best hope to get out is being sold into jewelry slavery. No, thank you. You be a stupid pearl. I live inside a Kit Kat now. Beat that.

There is a Petanque tournament today and also a possibility I’ll participate. It’s really up to the glue and whatever humidity factors come into play with curing time, etc. I’m not really big on instructions so we’ll just have to see how it plays out. I’m sure the guy at the store will know.

I can be pretty handy, but I’ll admit, this project will test even my skills.

Best Sandwich Ever

I’m a simple man, with simple needs. For example, if you take a good piece of meat and put it in between two pieces of white bread, then hand it to me, I love you. You can even say mean things while you do it.

Sandwich Maker: Here’s your sandwich, jerkhole. I hate your stupid face.

Me: Mmmmmm… Do you have any of those little mayonnaise packets?

Fortunately, my resident sandwich maker is Mama Sue, and she never, ever has called me a jerkhole or expressed hatred for my face. So I’m sure you can imagine the place she holds in my heart.

This weekend, the most delectable prime rib was the specialty of the week. And when I walked in, she knew what was about to happen. I’m not even sure we spoke. We both knew what was up.

After having the first several bites, I almost put down my beloved prime rib sandwich to write a post about the symphony taking place in my mouth, but the inspiration was overtaken by my natural instincts to keep forcing this thing across my taste buds.

If I’m even THINKING about putting food down to write about it, that is some rocking food. Normally, my policy for unhanding my sandwich is “from my cold, dead hand.” I’ve bitten people. Not really, but I want them to think I will. So if anyone asks, just say, “Oh yeah. That guy will totally bite you if you try to take his sandwich.” I need that kind of press.

I’m just saying that nobody has tried to take my sandwich away and we should all work to that end. I think we can come together on this, because no one wants that scene to play out.

You might be thinking this isn’t even an issue, but most issues aren’t issues until they are issues. I think you can say that about 99% of issues. One day gravity will be gone and you’ll be like, “Oh, that’s a new issue.” But at least you’ll be flying and that’s pretty awesome.

I know I own some responsibility for protecting people from me and I will be taking some precautions. For instance, I bought some police tape to put around me while I’m eating. I also purchased a bullhorn and a little siren.

You don’t have to thank me. I’m a people person and I do my best to blend in. I’m not saying you shouldn’t thank me. I’m just saying I’m the kind of person that doesn’t need appreciation to do good, but you’re welcome.

Forced Relaxation

I might sound like a broken record, but I can’t quite explain the sense of relaxation that overwhelms one when settling in at the park.

It says it right on the website. When I first read it, I was like, “Sure. Whatever. I want to see what it’s like to walk around naked.”

After a few days, it became so much more than that. And my story is the same as many members. They show up for a weekend, yadda yadda, they set up a place and become friends. Even family.

I’ve now been here for 4 years. I can’t even believe it’s been that long and each time I’m amazed at the way my stress just goes away. Almost entirely. And I have things to be stressed about.

For example…

I don’t really have an example. It’s part of my formula. Work is stressful, but I’m not going to sit here and drone on about it. In fact, you’ll find very little (if any) work talk in social situations. I like that, because unless you’re a crab fisherman or something, I don’t need to know. And you don’t need to know what I do, because I will tell you. At length. Then I’ll grab your arm when you try to leave me. Then I’ll follow you around until you get it.

Just kidding. I won’t have to follow you around because my grip strength is pretty impressive. You’re not going anywhere, because I’ll also be standing on your foot. You just need to listen, accept the training and await orders.

Today I think I will sit here and do nothing. NOTHING. I might find the motivation to put food in my face, but that entails walking a hundred yards. That’s 1 x 100. 75 steps. That’s 1 x 75.  I’m getting tired just thinking about it.

But this is what we have to do to stay alive. I didn’t make it up. I would have done that whole thing differently. Air. Boom. Done.

Not to question the “grand scheme” and all, but life shouldn’t have to consume life to perpetuate. I don’t mean to get all philosophical on you. I’m just saying if it only took air to live I could just sit here and breathe. Is that too much to ask? I don’t think so. I’m a simple man with simple needs, but I want it to be simpler.

Do I sound like a baby? Good. Then maybe someone will come feed me. Don’t be surprised if I’m wrapped in a blanket and lying in a basket on your doorstep (around lunchish).

Woo hoo!!

So I’m sitting here watching a basketball game after a long day of convincing people I’m right about everything, and then it hit me. MEMORIAL. DAY. WEEKEND. THIS WEEKEND. AT THE END OF THIS WEEK. AND INTO THE BEGINNING OF NEXT WEEK.

I know we’re all clear on how the whole week thing works, but after some of the conversations I’ve had today, I feel compelled to offer 18 explanations and hope one of them sticks.

You see, when people disagree with me at work I get all, “You are wrong. And maybe a little insane.” And they’re like, “I don’t like you very much.” Whatever.

You see, like many Americans (perhaps even you), I spend many days shaking my mind-fist at the day-to-day annoyances of life. Like today.

What I wanted to do is watch Kung Fu theater. I found a channel that shows it all day and, well, that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing.

But instead of watching “Shaolin Avengers” (again) today, I had to make money. And despite all my efforts, the Kung Fu channel won’t pay me to watch it. I think it’s a bunch of BS because I work from home and can just keep it on all the time (and am willing to do so). Whatever.

But guess what? There is light at the end of this tunnel we call “not being able to watch kung fu all day.” And it’s only a few short days away. The naked season kick off. Woo hoo!!

Thanks, But I’m Ok Right Here

When I arrived at Serendipity Park last week, I was so excited to be here. Despite some broken pipes and my lack of forethought, it wasn’t long before my troubles melted away.

The couple of weeks prior I had been considering a job offer, but unfortunately, like many companies, they have an office and expect you to walk into it. The nerve. I think the biggest problem with the modern business model is that you are required to show up, wear clothes, talk to other people about money stuff and clients and PLFFFFFFFTTTTTT. What a snoozefest. No wonder people suck. (Not you.)

It’s a great job offer and would probably secure my financial future. It’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities and something I thought I wanted for years. I knew I needed to think long and hard about it, so I decided to wait until I got here to make the decision. It took me about an hour. No thanks.

What swung me were a few things, in this order:

I want to be here this Summer!

I don’t want to be in an office!

Ok so just 2 things, but they were enough. I realized that I’m already living my lifetime opportunity. I’m one of the luckiest men I know.

I don’t need a lot of money. I don’t need a lot of hassle. I need a lot of Netflix, because there are some really good shows on there. I’ve been watching this one for about the last ten hours. Do you think Mr. Boss-man would let me watch Netflix for ten hours? Well we’d find out, wouldn’t we? Uh huh.

What a lot of people don’t know about me is how childish I am. Well, I mean all the people who know me know it, but there are a lot of people I don’t know.

I like fun and things that are fun, so I’m just going to try to do those things and let the not fun things be done by the people who do that stuff. It’s not like I’m asking them to. As far as I’m concerned, we can all stop. I can live off the land (as long as it has a Wal Mart on it).

Ok, ok. I do things that are not fun. I know we all have to. I just try to do as few of those things as possible. You could agree, you could disagree, you could put on a little hat and riverdance. My point is that it’s your business and I won’t judge you (at least not out loud or when you’re around).

Where is all this going? I don’t know. How it works is I say to myself, “Hey you should write a post.” Then I reply to myself, “You write it!”

“Hold on, Mister! What’s with the attitude?”

(gives finger)

“That’s just great. Fine.”

And here we are. It’s the process.

A lot of people wonder how I do make a living and I get asked quite a bit. My answer is always the same: Human trafficking. I’m telling you, it’s the future.

Hey I said I wouldn’t judge you and I would appreciate the same in return. Not everything is about you.

Of course, I’m kidding. It’s in the show I’ve been watching. Trading people is wrong, or at least it feels like it. Would you believe people pay me to write things? I know. Chumps. I can’t even read good. I mean, “goodness.”

Please stop getting me off point. What I’m trying to tell you is how awesome this place is. The opportunity of a lifetime can’t even peel me away. I think that says more about this place than anything else I can say.

Get ready for one awesome Summer.