Vitalis and barbasol

Today I was dragged out of my mopey wallowings to two Granny visitations and one trip to the beach with Father's old childhood friend Ralph who started hating him in 8th grade, ignored Father for the rest of their high school career, and then was stalked down by Father in an elaborate process involving stalking the book Ralph's sister wrote for "clues" and then calling all the Ralph N's in Berkeley, which resulted in a rekindling of their friendship. Ralph's family came to the beach too. I didn't want to go, but as I am again living with my parents I seem to have less control over my activities.
Interlude: Pictured is a man riding a motorcycle with a big dog in the sidecar. Neat? A and I thought so. He so knew we were taking pictures of him.

The waves were GREAT though. I got some quality swimming in (wearing Mother's big collared button down shirt, because, you know, modest is hottest) and I find it near impossible to be dreary when there are nice big green waves to jump over. Then we went back to Granny's again, where I got to explore the record collection of my youth.

There are SO MANY records in that house, and they're all great. There's the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, The Mamas and The Papas, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, The Monkees, old country-folk songs, Guys and Dolls, every other musical a girl could ever desire, square dancing complete with calls...it's genius. It's weird how many childhood memories I have on this island. Everywhere I go I can remember back years of assorted memories. Makes me feel old.