a perfect day (m)

Friday morning. Forecast is for sunny skies, dry, low 80's...in other words, a perfect summer day. I look at my "To Do" list and it's about 10 items deep. Still cleaning up after the anniversary party and the Arriverderci barbecue. Laundry, bills, grocery shopping. Projects for the medical school and for the skating club.

By 8:30 a.m., I've made only a small dent in my list. I look out the window and decided to take advantage of the summer day. I'm going to the beach.

My brother Phil calls. I convince him to join me at the beach. He convinces his wife to join us, too.

Of all the beautiful beach options, we decide instead to go to Revere Beach. I'd say it's Boston's answer to Coney Island, but Revere Beach is the first public beach in the United States so it pre-dates all others.

We pull up to the sidewalk in my Yukon. Take out the beach chairs and set them up on the sidewalk. Hey, if you are going to do Revere Beach, you do as the locals do. Sand? Fuhgeddaboutit.

Sitting in the sun, we realize we have a most strategic location. A few yards away is the public restroom. Across the street is a place for lunch. My skinny sister-in-law gets two huge slices of pizza. I get a salad with tuna on it and skip the dressing. A few yards in the other direction, someone is playing CDs from his car. Frank Sinatra to Amy Winehouse.

People stroll up and down the sidewalks. Old, young, some in bathing suits, one woman in a red wool coat. It's a sight to behold. Some stop and talk to us.


After a quick two-hour junket, we are back in the car with fresh tans.

Quick. Easy. Fun. Memorable.

Perfect.