This is a shot of my (now ex) wife, down in Baja California, a week or so after we got married, which was somewhere around 1991, I’m pretty sure, although I have really always struggled with dates.
Then, as now, the thing I enjoyed the most in life was spending all day, every day at the beach. What I didn’t realize is that this is somewhat rare. Even my surfer friends nowadays have this ridiculously activity oriented approach: they head out, surf for a couple of hours, and then leap back into their cars and dash back into town so that they can engage in activities and feel like good, productive, patriotic Americans. Surfing is leisure to them, but leisure is an activity.
This makes no sense to me. It’s a Calvinist thing, from what I understand.
One awesome thing about Celia was that she really could chill out on the sand without any compulsion to do activities. She understood leisure.
