By Georgia Osten
With all the scary things you hear about the beach, it’s a wonder anyone wants to come here at all. We’ve always had sharks, we know they’re out there, but when someone brings in a big one, we panic. Now, there’s a flesh-eating virus, and there are alligators and snakes coming out of the water. Every time I go down to the beach, I’ll look out to be sure I don’t see a 6 or 7 foot alligator out there floating in the surf. When did we get so paranoid? As a kid, I can remember running out into the water the minute I got to the beach. I can remember skiing in the Neches River. Of course, I’d be praying to the Almighty that I wouldn’t fall off my skis, especially when I would see the nutria or moccasins floating over by the banks. Being a typical teenager, I begged my Mom for a surfboard. My surfing abilities were comical to say the least. I probably had the sharks laughing so hard, they lost all desire to attack someone so un-athletic and awkward.
I’m a scardey cat now, that’s for sure. I surprised everyone two summers ago when I actually went in the water. Thank goodness I haven’t instilled my fears on any of my children or grandchildren. I intend to do my surprise act again this summer, every two years is a good goal.
[6-27-2016]
GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you.
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Dear Georgia,
I loved your article. I remember “back then” when we would spend all day floating on inner tubes, worried only about jellyfish, and swallowing copious quantities of brown Gulf of Mexico water. We survived. AMAZING!