On the Boardwalk

We survived the Thanksgiving Day feast!  A wonderful, warm(in more ways than one), family gathering.  That part was easy.  The preparation, and the clean- up were more work.  But, a great day nonetheless.  The advantages of hosting the day are several: set our own schedule, decide who brings what etc., but, one of the best aspects is enjoying the leftovers.  Many  “doggy bags” that went home with guests, but there was still a lot to deal with.   Most of the dishes do well in containers in the fridge, to be sampled, or gobbled,  over the next week.  I always make an excess of dressing (some in muffin tins), and gravy,  both of which can be frozen and used later.  The two turkey carcasses yielded a lot of meat (some for the freezer),  broth  and scraps that will become soups, casseroles, sandwiches, and snacks.  I never tire of inventing new uses for these ingredients.  The “cooking thing,” I guess.

Another result of the feast and following meals is a large measure of what I call diet/ guilt.  My  belt got really tight that day, and because of the continuing surfeit of high calorie food, it remains tight.  So, I have embarked on my recurrent program of more exercise, especially since my overindulgence has slowed minimally.

The boardwalk along the beach of Pacific Beach/Mission Beach is a few blocks away, my favorite low impact exercise venue.   The draw is obvious.  The ocean breeze to cool me, the ocean views, and  the continuous soothing sound of the surf are there every day, and in San Diego, so is the sunshine!  It may not be unique as beach walks go, but it includes other sources of pleasure, amusement, and annoyance that add to the picture.   First, though, I want to mention that the boardwalk is really an ocean- front walkway constructed of concrete with a low wall separating it from the sandy beach.  Not a board under your feet anywhere.  I grew up on the East coast where boardwalks are made of wooden boards (with splinters)  and in many places one can actually go “Under the Boardwalk.”   In PB, the vagrants are forced to sleep in the open,  the lovers do it on the beach, no privacy, no place to hide, for shame!

People, all kinds of people, as well as a lot of dogs are there.  Visitors, as well as beach neighborhood residents stroll, jog, bike, skate, skateboard, and occasionally Segway along it’s length.  I have overheard conversations in 4 or 5 languages on the same walk.   Wheelchairs and baby strollers are common.  Dogs in bike baskets, strollers and bike trailers, and on foot are seen every day.  San Diego Code prohibits dogs from the beach, walkway, and parks during mid day hours, but nobody told the dogs, or their owners, either.

Yesterday, As often happens, I  saw one of the PB institutions: Slo-Mo.  SM is a retired neurosurgeon, in his seventies, who enjoys in-line skating on the ocean walk.  His nickname refers to the slow motion, balletic movements which are accompanied by classical music (from a small sound system he carries).  On a busy day on the Walk, I might hear the music before I see SM, as he slowly and gracefully threads his way through the crowd, sometimes holding an arabesque for 50-100 feet, always smiling,  with a friendly greeting for all.

Frequent walkers, joggers, skaters, or bikers soon begin to recognize and greet  each other among the hundreds of people one passes. The “regulars,” as I call them are a varied lot.  There’s the football guy who will play catch football with anyone who is willing.  Extensive  quarterback  and wide receiver mannerisms are thrown for free.  There’s also the two OMBAC (Old Mission Beach Athletic Club, emphasis on old)  guys who have come up with Cruiser Frisbee, a variation on a classic beach activity.  They ride their fat tire beach cruisers up and down The Walk passing the Frisbee back and forth between them.  When a likely participant ( anyone who makes eye contact) is encountered, the Frisbee is zipped in his/her direction, and the resulting catch or flubb is cheered or jeered accordingly.  Any spectators are fairgame also, so anyone in the area might get a quick throw, also.  Could be embarrassing, but always fun.

One of my favorite “attractions” is the Flag Man.  I have not seen him in recent weeks, hope it is only turkey overdose related.  He is a middle aged redhead who sets up near World Famous, about ten yards out in the sand, with a beach chair, an umbrella, coolers, bread crumbs for the birds, and a horseshoe game setup for anyone who stops at his station.  But, the main attraction is the flag.  It is not huge, 4’x6′, I think, but it is HIGH.  A sectional pole skewered into the sand raises the flag about 12′ above the beach.  Why so high?  Well, here’s the story.  The Flag Man is a retired US Navy veteran.  He places the flag high enough to be visible to the sailors on the frequent warships passing offshore.  His respect for our Flag, his love of the USA, and his sense of brothership with other sailors spurs this display.  He remembers well his days aboard ship, remembers leaving on deployment from San Diego, remembers coming home after many months at sea and in foreign ports.  He knows the excitement of leaving port on a mission to protect our freedoms or to succor those injured by an act of man or nature, mixed with the sadness of leaving home and family.  He also knows the joy of returning, proud of the work well done, happy to be home, warmed by those who come to welcome him.  So, the Flagman is doing something that he hopes will add to those departures, those arrivals/returns.  In hopes that even one sailor will see his American Flag on the beach as he is leaving or returning to port,  the Flag Man flies it high!  I get it, I love it!  I hope you do, too.

 

 

 

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