“Hey, take a moment to look around at all these people,” I told my daughter. “See them?”
“You mean all these pale, pasty, semi-translucent people?” she asked, gazing at the beachgoers around us. They were mostly tourists. It was President’s Day. Un-seasonably warm. And the beach was hoppin’ with out-of-towners, all keen on turning their skin lollipop red. You could tell they weren’t Floridians because they tromped into the freezing, glacial-like water without screaming as if their skin was being burned off by acid.
“Yes … these people,” I said. “Take a moment and think about how they have worked and saved and planned for months to come here to enjoy a day at the beach, maybe the only time they will see something like this.”