The Beach, Perfection And Big Wheels
This past weekend I went to the beach, and I was reminded how important it was for me when I was little to create a “perfect” last day vacation memory. Basically, if we were leaving the beach the next morning, I thought that the last time I stepped off the beach the day before needed to be postcard-worthy ideal. (Can we say obsessive much? This is even before that obligatory age when you have to read Our Town, after which I tried desperately to notice life in the moment. I found it exhausting and only made it about two weeks.)
In particular, I remember a time that we were staying at one of those condo units where you had to use a raised bridge to safely cross the street from the beach to your hotel.
On our last day of the trip, I walked up the center of the stairs at sunset (because no perfect memory happens without symmetry or when you’re too close to the hand rail), turned around to face the ocean, took in a deep breath of sea air, and then turned to walk down the center of the bridge – without looking back – towards our condo.
At the time, I thought, “This is a perfect moment.”
Since then, it’s been my experience that trying for perfect moments is more likely to ruin an experience than enhance it. Putting too much pressure on anything other than a bleeding wound usually tends to backfire, and it’s pretty hard to manufacture perfection outside of a movie set. I find imperfection much funnier (usually) as well as a good indicator of whom you should and should not be dating. (I mean, if you’re going to be stuck in the airport for added hours, wouldn’t you far rather it be with someone who can find some fun in the situation rather than the person who yells at every flight crew member they spot?)
Also, being quite flawed myself, a life that didn’t involve embracing imperfection would be pretty darn frustrating. And I just don’t think Thornton Wilder wants that for any of us.
Moving back to what was going to be my core topic, I also remembered some other awesome ideas/beliefs/misconceptions I had as a child. Here are a few of the “brilliant” ideas from my youth:
1. Doctors should use magnets on gunshot wounds. If a bullet is metal, why wouldn’t the magnet just pull it out of the skin?
2. Unicorns – real. Everyone else – confused and unwilling to believe.
3. Drinking and driving applied to any beverage. Therefore, I would not take a coke or water with me before a bicycle or Big Wheel ride.
4. There’s no such thing as infinity. Space may be vast, but it has an ending or borders. It just fit inside a really, really big box.
5. Policemen were mind readers. If you had done anything wrong and were anywhere within their vicinity, they would know – whether it was sneaking cookies or robbing banks.
Truthfully, I’m still holding out hope on #2, and every policeman makes me nervous to this day, but at least I’ve given up on the idea of patenting #1. As for those perfect vacation memories? They have a much broader definition as well. As long as I don’t drown in the ocean, I tend to call it a good day.