The noon day sun was hiding high above the low puffy cumulus
clouds as I lay lounging on the sands of the beach. Occasionally, the
sun broke through the clouds with its brilliance and mighty splendor,
casting its energy on the sunbathers below.
The coarse, gravely feel of the white bleached sand was deliciously warm
beneath me as I burrowed my bare toes deep down in the coolness. I
marveled at the sand’s crystal-like reflections from the sun’s rays as
bits of sand clung to my damp bathing suit.
Bathing suits of every conceivable color, chroma, and hue were visible
everywhere. Men with one piece, one color suits, or two piece suits with
a narrow white belt separating the tops from the bottoms, the legs of
which came to just above the knees. A circle of material was cut at the
hips for air circulation, but still careful not to show too much bare
skin.
The lady’s bathing suits were equally demure. Some wore bonnets. Some
did not, The less daring wore bloomer-like panties, barely hidden
beneath a fringed skirt. The more courageous lady’s legs were bare,
while others were encased in black cotton stockings, tied in a knot just
below the knee.
The ocean close to the beach was a brilliant emerald green, which
graduated to a Prussian blue far from shore where the waves started
cresting on their determined journey to shore. The whitecaps got higher
and higher and whiter in color as they neared the beach, ending in a
roaring thunder-like sound as they completed their journey; leaving
only a trace of greenish-white foam.
Later as the sun sank below the horizon in a splendid display of reds,
pinks and orangey colors, leaving the western sky a brilliant light
cadmium red, my parents and I, strolled, hand-in-hand along the not yet
weather beaten boardwalk. Only the aroma of popcorn popping and peanuts
being freshly roasted, could compete with the smells of salt water taffy
mingling deliciously with the salty sea air the was being brought in by
a gentle breeze from the ocean.
My thoughts were of the foot-long hot dogs that cost a nickel that I was
soon to taste. The savory flavor and aroma of sauerkraut blending
lusciously with mustard , all placed within a large-long bun, was only
a prelude to the soft, creamy vanilla custard, sitting on top of an ice
cream cone that was yet to come.
I looked at the grand and majestic hotels and mansions with their
Victorian architecture, standing tall and proud overlooking the beach
and boardwalk. The windows of some were adorned with alternately striped
awnings; some blue and white-some red and white, partially hiding their
gothic-like windows, like huge eyes starring approvingly at the people
below.
But that was a long time ago. Although the beach is the same, the
bathing suits are not. The hot dogs cost more than a nickel and just
don’t taste as good, and the custard is not as creamy and tasty as it
once was. Even the aroma of the salt water taffy does not mingle as well
with the salty sea air. The proud majestic structures are no more. In
its place are the cold granite and marble gambling casinos. The sound of
slot machines, clinking away, taking all and giving very little.
