American Dream - Revisited

 

There is a certain feel to the beach, beyond the breeze and salt air, and much more than the sunblock and seagulls.  It is the distance from your desk at work, that’s what is lifting your spirits.  As long as you keep your cell phone off that spirit will live. All the shops that line the boardwalk, selling trinkets and tee shirts will look inviting.  Strangers will smile and the beach burgers will taste amazing.

 

The image of your life is suddenly framed by escape.  It’s the freedom that everyone talks about.  It’s flag waving at its best.  There are no schedules or deadlines.  Half-finished reports remain stuffed inside the darkness of drawers, and lunch whistles are nothing more than the cry of the gulls.  Those that are not flying sit calmly in the sand, facing the breeze head-on.

 

Oh, but if you could only bottle that feeling, you’d make millions and millions.  You could buy a big house and fancy cars.  You’d never have to work again.  You would have captured the American dream.  Then you’d be happy.  Unfortunately, on your next trip to the beach, instead of seeing the lovely little shops along the boardwalk, all you’d see were the crazy beach prices dangling from the obnoxious shirts, and the crazy trinkets, all from China.  You’d never pay that much for a burger and the seagull poop would be everywhere.

 

Walking back to your car you’d spot a pelican sitting there, looking back at you.  There would be an odd knowing in his look, like “I told you so.”