Zuma One. Those two words were enough to spur a frenzy of action--Somebody get the towels! The lotion! Some snacks! Then we’d all pile into one car, chip in a couple bucks for gas, cram every remaining cranny with skim boards and boogie boards, and hit the road, ending up parking as close as we could to the first lifeguard tower at Zuma Beach. Much of our youthful angst and zeal played out on that particular patch of sand. Offhand, I can think of ten people--adults with jobs, kids, and even grandkids--I’m Facebook friends with who I watched tan, body surf, and play there. And a 
few whose time here didn’t last as long so they stay frozen forever in my memory young, bronze and beautiful. I always wanted to be a beach bunny--one of those girls who oils up and spends the day looking glamorous on a towel with perfect hair and makeup--but it never worked out. I couldn’t resist the lure of the water. I never did get the hang of skim boarding and I haven’t actually been on a surfboard in the water, but boogie boarding and body surfing kept my craving for saltwater therapy in check. In Brian Lies’ Bats at the Beach, when the moon is shining bright the nocturnal ones come out to swim, moontan, and eat all the junk food they can hold before it’s time to brush off the sand and go home. I wonder if they ever go to Zuma One…http://www.amazon.com/Bats-at-Beach-Brian-Lies/dp/061855744X
http://www.brianlies.com/
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