Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix...BEACHES.
I brought the beach Umbrella, the beach Prop/up DIVAN lie down thingy, the Beach wheelie bag STACKED with cans of Draught Guinness, Vino Bianco, corkscrew, plastic cups, tissues, extra tobacco, cigarette papers, SUNSCREEN, a kitchen extended gas lighter, my note book, 3 pens, a jug of Yogurt, forgot the spoon, a humongous Ham on brown bread PANNINI smeared with butter, ketchup and Dijon mustard, some Q/tips, my Costa Rica Jungle hat, nero shorts and nero Crosby, Stills and Nash Tee shirt....and my good looks.
I had THE BEACH tutte Mungus scoped out. No worries. No prioccupare. Basta! I-M da MAN!!!
What could go wrong....Question.
*Sciacca, Sicily.
I had come a LONG way. I had hitch hiked from New York City to Los Angeles. Many encounters, many faces, GREAT Americans enabling me, rootin for my destiny! Finally, in MALIBU, as it was THEN, a coastal community of Movie Stars and a plethora of subservient Worker Bees who counted their prestige by limited association with those very Movie Stars that U or I care little or less for, as we should. Still! I made it! West coast. First night in the BUUU, Mali/whassit! ...Foggy, dank, dark.
The tide is out. I have 10 bucks, liquor store neon...on that foggy night....so sucking on cold brewskies under the Pier, adjacent Surf/rider point, rock star Stevie Nicks twists and twirls, wearing a turquoise cape, dances by in the all enshrouding, anonymous fog whilst my OWN brows grit for tomorrows penury survival. And too wacked out to sing RHENANIA!
...Malibu, California.
Scorby Mills, by Scarboro, by Bridlington, as any home grown Yorkshire kid will know...The Pallisades of an IN/land epiphany, where from, where landed the Vikings and the Danes. Meagre beaches, hidden coves, Flamboro head, Danes Dyke< please! No jokes! I was at a Scout Camp there, Flamboro Head. There-s a lighthouse, ancient church, etc. We boy scouts were given a Discovery trail. Clue on clue led U on, excepting ONE clue, the FISH in the SKY....Turned out to be the Salmon on the old Churches weather vane and to this day, looking UPwards, instructs my perspective!
....Flamborough Head, Yorkshire, England.
In Jaco, Costa Rica, Surfing, Cheeseburgers, Burritos, Tacos, displaced, aging Yankees. A spiritual graveyard, ever IN/fused by FAZED Americano Surf riders a head of NONE and a dollar short. Black beach, incestuous foliage, bugs galore, NO SMOKING every where U try to eat or drink! Social Fascism at its best.... under a canopy of paradise sunsets and great white sharks in coastal waters where Angels fear to tread. The Rich Coast. My buddy Carol and I walked many a beach mile yet still could NOT evade the House, Hip/Hop gorging DJs. What DRIVES this GEO/insanity, the Scum of greed as a 3 foot long Salamander wanders, careless, ahead of my feet...
......Jaco, Costa Rica.
DAMNED black sand, Dave!
Yup!...Mind ya Umbrella!
Jeeze!
Close.
U seen Mickey
No.
U seen Sam or Neil..
Check the Ambulance guys...
Half of THEM are dead.
I know.
U got some WATER
I-m dyin
Not Yet, ya piece o- shit!
Wha!
Lets switch Dog tags!
Why not!
Yup! Double luck!
Greetings from IWO JIMA,
Life-s a Beach!
and Fuck U too!!!!
Fast forward....Mio, Foggia beach, Sciacca, Sicily. The beaches have not changed. As for ME or U....I cannot say.
c2018,davedelacroix,foggia beach, sicily.
