With the arrival of Summer, this Chicagoan can’t help but feel that same two-tipped tingling. First, the little thrill that believes in the poet’s words: “Summer is what life ought to be;” but second, the even larger twinge that rewinds the mind to those haunting old Charles Atlas ads: “Don’t be the 98-pound weakling on the beach the girls laugh at.”
How to reconcile such conflicting passions? A mission you too may re-experience in these lazy hazy days. OK, here’s my advice:
* Never ever squeeze into a bathing suit again! There is more than enough travesty on our screens to add one more to our mirrors
* Try to recall the sweet melancholy of the lyrics: “Beautiful girls/walk a little slower/when you walk by me.” These are visions not of quick lust, but of lingering appreciation.
Alright, fellas, you are now better prepared to walk the warm sandy steps of Summer in peace. With the confidence that you are now and forever free to drink in its planetary profusions without the demand for personal performance.
The way I see it, now the bounties of beauty out there — both natural and human — suddenly become like a great mural to be savored. But without the need to actually step into it.
To put it another way, now you can enjoy Summer beaches just like the Bikini-ites — without ever getting wet.
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