My lethargy today nearly approached total inertia. It was a sweeping dormancy made all the more difficult to energize because it was so indisputably pleasant. The pleasantness was reminiscent of a soporific or a drugged state of mind. It was though I had somehow earned the privilege of indolence. Securing industry was a noticeable effort, a struggle against languidness. I nonetheless succumbed to my customary habits of showering, breakfast and bicycling. Being in the burnishing sunshine on the pathway along Gulf of Mexico Drive revived my yearning for the beach and the sea – though for the added exercise I extended my routine cycle beyond Bayfront Park at Block 4000 to beyond Block 5000 near Joan M. Durante Community Park.
It was a Sunday today. Families had already begun congregating along the shore of the sea. People continuously arrived carrying baskets, folding chairs and carts laden with umbrellas and fishing poles and beach towels and toys.
As I lay on my Polo shirt with only my shoes stuffed with sunglasses, Apple watch, iPhone and lip balm as a head rest I felt peculiarly economic when compared to the paraphernalia of the other beach goers. Most of them were lily-white and judiciously employed their tents or umbrellas as needed. My unsheltered carcass was by comparison the colour of old leather. I was covered in fine white sand on my hands, arms, legs and abdomen. My gold rings shone.
As I swam in the sea I mockingly floated upright in the shape of Jesus Christ on the cross. The buoyancy was remarkable. I was entirely undisturbed except for the occasional thin wash of water like clear paint over my face. I displayed my fish ancestry by diving to the sandy bottom of the sea, touching the sand with my fingers, exploding to the surface with a snort of air.
Each time I withdrew from the sea I was again overwhelmed by the enervation and collapsed onto my Polo shirt, lay back, spread-eagle and gleefully – almost honorifically – absorbed the burning rays of the sun in the western sky over the vast horizon and glittering sea.
By three o’clock I knew it was time to head back home. Again I extended my customary jaunt to the southern end of the Island where it meets The Resort at Longboat-Key-Club. The sounds had commensurately diminished. No longer the crashing sea or the sounds of children’s blithe utterances. Just the birds and the wind in towering grape bushes and palm trees.
At the pool in the condominium I chatted with Nancy of 306 and Joe Grolen (the professional personal trainer and dietary consultant). Nancy informed me that the nasal inhalers (which Lou Ryen prompted me to buy) were popular in Thailand because they assist clearing the nasal passages of the many pollutants from the air. She also advised there is an upright piano in the apartment they rent next to ours. I asked that whenever she ha a moment she invite me to try the piano. After Nancy left to get ready for an evening engagement, Joe and I talked about business and travel. His youthfulness was naturally refreshing. Meanwhile the regular cocktail gathering had commenced at another side of the pool.