I’m a Dad. It’s what I do.
It also afforded me the opportunity to people watch. You can learn a lot about the way things are and the times we live in by simply sitting behind your sunglasses with a book in your hand, watching, and listening. It’s a technique I developed over college summers working at Opryland and honed in airports all over this great land of ours as I traveled from city to city putting systems in hospitals. When done correctly, you see people at their most honest, even though sometimes all that you see is that all their 'most honest' means is that they honestly put on a show for the world.
Here are a few things I noticed yesterday.
The Music
The music that played over the sound system in the waterpark was not a radio broadcast. It was piped, much like the music was at Opryland. Unlike the Opryland music, though, the music in the waterpark was more recognizable. And none of it was current popular music.
No Miley Cyrus.
No Lady Gaga.
No hip-hop of any kind.
No Katy Perry.
No Green Day.
No Ke$ha.
What they played was music from my generation. Music from the Steve Miller Band’s ‘Book Of Dreams’ album. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’. Early Journey … Departure, Escape, Frontiers. Madonna’s more upbeat stuff got some play. I heard quite a bit of Duran Duran, particularly the ‘Rio’ album.
I don’t know if they were intentionally targeting the 40-something parents of the kids, or if the Guitar Hero/Rock Band games have had some effect. But I don’t recall hearing “Poker Face”, “California Gurls”, or “Party in the USA”.
The Bathing Suits
This was an interesting mix. Bathing suits seem to actually be a bit more modest than I expected, particularly on the teenaged girls. I saw a lot of tankinis, and fewer string bikinis than I expected. Maybe they figured out that going down a 6 story waterslide isn’t conducive to having your string bikini stay put, but there are fewer than I expected. I even noticed a few one-piece suits on the teens.
The people who were letting it all hang out were the people my age. They weren’t doing as much on the slides … they were doing the sun god/goddess thing. The bathing suits were small.
The people, on the other hand, were in most cases, not.
Thankfully, I saw no Speedos on men.
The People
At one point I spoke to a park employee who worked in a supervisory capacity. The ‘alpha’ as we called it at Opryland (which is what they called it there as well) was about 8. So there were about 8,000 people in the park at the time I spoke to him. Based on his experience, that makes it the equivalent of a fairly busy Saturday. Given that, I believe I had a pretty decent cross-section of people to observe.
The comments I make here are generalities, and I freely admit as such. Having said that, this is what I noticed.
A. The easiest way to tell if someone was over or under 18 was to simply look at them. If they didn’t look like they had been a little too close to the paint counter at Lowe’s during that awful paint-can-shaker accident, they were probably below the age of consent. Easily 75% of the people over 18 at the waterpark had ink of some type.
B. Most of the aforementioned tattoos looked like the wearer had gotten drunk, stumbled into a tattoo parlor, and asked for the best tattoo they could get for the 50 bucks in their pocket. Repeatedly. To look at them, what I saw implied that very little went into the decision. No thought. No meaning. No significance. Mighty Mouse here, Eeyore there, lots of the classic Superman ‘S’. Tribal armbands galore.
One woman had the 23rd Psalm written on her back. She was a 55+-year-old sun goddess. It looked as if it were intended to be a simulation of how the passage was found on the original parchment. I kept expecting Indiana Jones to show up and take her away as his latest find.
Most of the tattoos looked old. There was very little bright, new ink, and that was mostly on college students. Maybe the fad is playing itself out.
C. You would think that with all of the advances in medical technology today that they could create a natural looking breast implant.
This was an interesting mix. Bathing suits seem to actually be a bit more modest than I expected, particularly on the teenaged girls. I saw a lot of tankinis, and fewer string bikinis than I expected. Maybe they figured out that going down a 6 story waterslide isn’t conducive to having your string bikini stay put, but there are fewer than I expected. I even noticed a few one-piece suits on the teens.
The people who were letting it all hang out were the people my age. They weren’t doing as much on the slides … they were doing the sun god/goddess thing. The bathing suits were small.
The people, on the other hand, were in most cases, not.
Thankfully, I saw no Speedos on men.
The People
At one point I spoke to a park employee who worked in a supervisory capacity. The ‘alpha’ as we called it at Opryland (which is what they called it there as well) was about 8. So there were about 8,000 people in the park at the time I spoke to him. Based on his experience, that makes it the equivalent of a fairly busy Saturday. Given that, I believe I had a pretty decent cross-section of people to observe.
The comments I make here are generalities, and I freely admit as such. Having said that, this is what I noticed.
A. The easiest way to tell if someone was over or under 18 was to simply look at them. If they didn’t look like they had been a little too close to the paint counter at Lowe’s during that awful paint-can-shaker accident, they were probably below the age of consent. Easily 75% of the people over 18 at the waterpark had ink of some type.
B. Most of the aforementioned tattoos looked like the wearer had gotten drunk, stumbled into a tattoo parlor, and asked for the best tattoo they could get for the 50 bucks in their pocket. Repeatedly. To look at them, what I saw implied that very little went into the decision. No thought. No meaning. No significance. Mighty Mouse here, Eeyore there, lots of the classic Superman ‘S’. Tribal armbands galore.
One woman had the 23rd Psalm written on her back. She was a 55+-year-old sun goddess. It looked as if it were intended to be a simulation of how the passage was found on the original parchment. I kept expecting Indiana Jones to show up and take her away as his latest find.
Most of the tattoos looked old. There was very little bright, new ink, and that was mostly on college students. Maybe the fad is playing itself out.
C. You would think that with all of the advances in medical technology today that they could create a natural looking breast implant.
Apparently, they can’t.
It’s really simple. If you’re facing north, your breasts should be facing north as well. If your breasts are facing east and west, and I can see the insertion points where your ribs go into your sternum … yeah, that’s not natural. If the ‘WWE Diva’ look is what you’re going for, you nailed it. If not, you need to go back to your surgeon and ask for a refund.
D. I’m not sure if it’s the current trend toward the Brazilian wax or what, but as soon as the bottom of the vast majority of the bathing suits got wet … well, details began to appear. Significant details. ‘Remove all of the mystery’ details. If my career path had taken me down ‘OB/GYN Boulevard’, I would’ve felt like I was at work.
I don’t need to know the size of that particular piece of your female anatomy. Nor do I need to know that you have hardware in it. Do they not make bathing suits with liners in them anymore?
E. Along similar lines … if you have been a sun goddess since before “Dark Side Of The Moon” was released, your skin is going to look like my old softball glove. You know it … I know it … the American people know it.
Now, don't get me wrong. I’m glad you can still get in to that bikini. Heck, I think it's great that you’re proud of yourself and the way you look. I'm happy for you that you have the self-confidence to go out in public wearing a bikini at this point in your life.
It’s really simple. If you’re facing north, your breasts should be facing north as well. If your breasts are facing east and west, and I can see the insertion points where your ribs go into your sternum … yeah, that’s not natural. If the ‘WWE Diva’ look is what you’re going for, you nailed it. If not, you need to go back to your surgeon and ask for a refund.
D. I’m not sure if it’s the current trend toward the Brazilian wax or what, but as soon as the bottom of the vast majority of the bathing suits got wet … well, details began to appear. Significant details. ‘Remove all of the mystery’ details. If my career path had taken me down ‘OB/GYN Boulevard’, I would’ve felt like I was at work.
I don’t need to know the size of that particular piece of your female anatomy. Nor do I need to know that you have hardware in it. Do they not make bathing suits with liners in them anymore?
E. Along similar lines … if you have been a sun goddess since before “Dark Side Of The Moon” was released, your skin is going to look like my old softball glove. You know it … I know it … the American people know it.
Now, don't get me wrong. I’m glad you can still get in to that bikini. Heck, I think it's great that you’re proud of yourself and the way you look. I'm happy for you that you have the self-confidence to go out in public wearing a bikini at this point in your life.
But you’re 60 now. And if you put your feet flat on the edges of your lounge chair with your knees that far apart, your suit is going to gap in the front. The world doesn’t need to see your vulva. Stretch your legs out and cross your ankles, please.
F. Listening to the 25-ish guy next to you talk to his friends about how this or that tattoo was done by his cellie with a guitar string tattoo gun isn’t as interesting as one might think.
G. If you have any doubt whatsoever about the childhood obesity problem in this county, go to a waterpark.
F. Listening to the 25-ish guy next to you talk to his friends about how this or that tattoo was done by his cellie with a guitar string tattoo gun isn’t as interesting as one might think.
G. If you have any doubt whatsoever about the childhood obesity problem in this county, go to a waterpark.
I’m not talking ‘full figured’, nor am I talking about ‘big boned’. I’m talking about fat. I’m talking about making Eric Cartman look anorexic. I’m talking about 11 year old boys with bigger breasts than Kendra Wilkinson. I’m talking about 14 year old girls with stretch marks on the cellulite on their thighs.
We can’t all be Victoria’s Secret models or “The Situation” from Jersey Shore. I understand that. But the obesity problem I saw on display yesterday was a definite eye-opener.
It was the rule … not the exception.
H. Either my skin is thinner than it used to be, or the sun is more intense. When I was in elementary school, I spent all summer running around wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. By the time school started, my skin was the color of walnut wood stain.
When we got married in 1986, we would go to the apartment complex pool and cover ourselves with baby oil to enhance the sun. Every half hour, radio stations would remind us to ‘turn, so you don’t burn’. All summer long, and in the fall until it was just too cold, we either went to the pool or laid out on the apartment patio in chaise lounges.
Yesterday I was at the waterpark for 5 hours. Every 30-45 minutes, I coated everything I could reach in SPF45. It didn’t seem to matter. I’m so sunburned this morning I can hardly stretch my arms for fear that my skin will tear.
We can’t all be Victoria’s Secret models or “The Situation” from Jersey Shore. I understand that. But the obesity problem I saw on display yesterday was a definite eye-opener.
It was the rule … not the exception.
H. Either my skin is thinner than it used to be, or the sun is more intense. When I was in elementary school, I spent all summer running around wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. By the time school started, my skin was the color of walnut wood stain.
When we got married in 1986, we would go to the apartment complex pool and cover ourselves with baby oil to enhance the sun. Every half hour, radio stations would remind us to ‘turn, so you don’t burn’. All summer long, and in the fall until it was just too cold, we either went to the pool or laid out on the apartment patio in chaise lounges.
Yesterday I was at the waterpark for 5 hours. Every 30-45 minutes, I coated everything I could reach in SPF45. It didn’t seem to matter. I’m so sunburned this morning I can hardly stretch my arms for fear that my skin will tear.
* * *
So apparently, there will be more observations to follow.
Now, where’s my SPF100?
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