Thursday 29 Sep 2016

Tropical Dreams
Matt Seinberg

One of my co-workers came in, today, dressed in a tropical-looking shirt that had hibiscuses on it. I told her it reminded me of a tropical vacation. All of a sudden, past vacations sped past my mind’s eye, all involving a beach or tropical drinks.


Caribbean vacation dreams galore.

The first one I remember is a vacation I took when I was young, single and stupid. Ah, I miss those days. I went to a Club Med resort, on Paradise Island, in the Bahamas. I really wanted to go the club in Martinique, but I couldn't afford it.

I remember my sales counselor so well. Her name was Cheryl and she was blond, built and gorgeous. I made it a point to visit the Club Med office, in New York City, just to meet Cheryl. I remember one visit, when my late grandfather Herman met me in the city, and we ended up taking Cheryl to lunch.


Dating Cheryl was my dream, my goal.

I wanted nothing more than to date Cheryl. A couple of obstacles stood in my way. First, she was way out of my league, but I tried. Second, she had a boyfriend. Big deal, that never stopped me before. Third, she said she didn't date younger men. Oh well.

Anyway, the two memories I have of Paradise Island are quite different. The first is lying on the beach, watching a French family frolic in the surf and all the women are topless. They aged in range from a sixty-something grandmother to the eighteen-year-old granddaughter. I kept inching my beach chair closer. Hey, I was twenty-years-old and still a walking hormone.

Sometime during that vacation, I went on a sailboat with one of the counselors and two other women. As soon as we hit the water, bam, the tops came off. I thought I died and went to heaven. They were both attractive young women that didn't mind showing off their female attributes.


Sneaking a look during a family vacation.

Let's fast forward to 2006, when we took a full family vacation to Bermuda on the Norwegian Cruise ship Dawn. Sitting in the hot tub were a couple of young, nubile young women that were almost showing all the goodies. I later saw them in the theater for a show and somehow they didn't look as good clothed as they did in bikinis, but they still were very cute.

There is nothing like sitting on the deck of a cruise ship, wearing dark sunglasses, holding a book, drinking a Pina Colada and watching the bikinis bounce past. It's easy to get away with it when the wife is sitting right next to you, with the sunglasses on.

In 2009, we took a cruise on the Royal Caribbean ship Majesty of the Seas, which took us to Nassau, Bahamas, Key West, Florida and their private island of Coco Kay. If you've never been to Key West, go there immediately! You may never want to come back! It's the home to the first Margaritaville Bar, made famous by singer and songwriter Jimmy Buffett.

When you walk on Duval Street, the main street in Key West, you will encounter anything and everything, gorgeous women in bikinis to outrageous men in drag. We once stayed at a hotel called the Reach, which had a pool and its own private beach. It's so hot in Key West in August, that you want to wear as little as possible, whenever possible. So if you're at the pool or beach, much skin is exposed. Just wear a lot of sunscreen.

See what happens, when you let your mind run wild. Many good memories come flooding back, in the blink of an eye.

Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.

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