Between Rockport and hard bodies

Rockport, MA.

So I was out in Rockport last Saturday. I took the 2.15 commuter train and returned by the 7.30. The weather was awesome. The (young) people looked good. I was one of very few people in the entire town who wasn't white. I thought that I had stopped thinking on such terms a long time ago. Actually I have. But I must have been quite a standout (from the number of people who stared at me) that I couldn't help think on those terms, even if only briefly. Anyway, other than me, I noticed a black family and an Indian family. The latter comprising of the usual married couple with a bawling kid and another guy (looked like kin) who looked like he couldn't wait to get married. On a side note, I have seen his demeanor before. He was probably finding all the skin around him a major distraction and needed release from...a guaranteed traditional source :)


Testing the Olympus C-5000 that had been rusting for a while: My calves are now about 1/2 inch bigger from all that sprinting this year and I showed my legs off (with glee) while in Rockport.

So back to Rockport...on the beach, yeah, I was definitely the only non-white person. I noticed what looked like a couple of Chinese kids but they were clothed (so we can "discount" them). But a lot of the young white women there looked pretty vanilla. From the way they kept casting glances over my way, I gathered that they've probably never attended school with anyone non-white. I enjoyed the attention. There was one girl that I noticed on Beach street shortly after arriving in town. She was probably 19 or 20 years old with a flawless body in a not too radical bikini. I casually took my sunglasses off and gave her an appreciative (not lascivious) down and up and then let myself briefly linger on her eyes. I imagined myself at the Museum of Fine Arts back in Boston appraising one of those female Greek statues. I noticed a twitch below her right eye as she walked past me. I realized later, rather refreshingly, that she hadn't been wearing sunglasses.

By the way, they had a shop there that promised good Austrian style, apple strudel but I came away unimpressed. I did dine at the Beach Street Bistro which looked more like fine dining inside (outside it looked like a rickety shack). Man, that roast pork was good after a long afternoon! Did I mention I bought a painting...of boats out in Gloucester harbor by a local artist? Between the strudel, dinner and sunbathing, I managed to finish reading the wonderful The Millionaire Next Door. I will post a review of that book one of these days.

When I left town roughly 4 hours later, I spotted Ms.Flawless amongst the 100 other bikinis strutting their stuff between the beach and Beach street. My heart skipped a beat.