I am invited to a party. Alright, good times! They want an RSVP, no problem. The party is at the beach – oh no.

There was a time, and it wasn’t long ago, that I enjoyed a party at the beach, but not anymore. When we lived on Starchaser and were cruising, we did a lot of beaching, and that is part of the reason that I don’t like going anymore. As I think on it, I can’t come up with a single reason why I ever enjoyed going to the beach.

First, there is sand. It’s everywhere! Not only is the beach made of the stuff, but 20 minutes after you arrive, it is in, on, and between everything. It first attacks between your toes and stays there the remainder of the day, no matter what you do. You can wear boots with your trousers duct-taped over the tops and the boots taped over, stand perfectly still, and the stuff will find a way in where it begins to teach your delicate toe tissue why it is used for sand paper. That is its nature and it fulfills that nature very well.

Should you sit, walk, or swim, you will find sand in your clothes, again teaching you lessons concerning friction and abrasion. If you have a chair, it is in the chair; a blanket, count on laying in it; food, I hope you like it crunchy. It clings to cold drinks and migrates to the mouth opening. Try and wipe it away and you have done sand a favor by pushing it into the drink where it wants to go. Sand follows you home. You will now have it in your car and house for months to remind you of your day at the beach.

Second, there is the water. Not only does it make you wet, it is the favorite transportation medium for sand. The water also has things in it that sting. As it breaks in waves, it can break you, and I have discovered that it is difficult to breathe the stuff. Seawater has salt in it, which, when you have been out of the water for a few minutes, will dry to a sticky crust that aids in rubbing you raw.

Third, there is the sun. There is no escaping it. You will cook slowly tricking yourself into thinking, “I’m getting so tanned!” Fooled you! You are now close to knowing how the roast feels in the oven.

To combat the sun’s effects on your skin, there is sunscreen. Its purpose, other than being the grease that aids in your being slowly basted, is to be another medium for sand. Now you have a vicious cycle. You try to wash off the sand in seawater, which dilutes and mixes with the sunscreen, which dries to the consistency of wallpaper paste. You apply more sunscreen over that, and you are a sand magnet. What fun!

Then there are tar balls, broken seashells and glass, sticks washed up, seaweed, sea urchin spines and a thousand other things that are there to torture your feet. Here again, I mention sand.

Considering all that, how will I RSVP? Heck yes I’ll be there, because I have come up with the single reason to enjoy the beach. There’s going to be food! Who can say “no” to that?

David Wilson Atwood is a local freelance writer whose human-interest columns offer a unique perspective. He may be contacted at david@starchasers.us.