I am predisposed to not act my age when the mood strikes me, which is probably too often but what the hell. Thus, today after lunch at the Santa Monica Pier to beat the heat for a bit we went walking on the sand and found a deserted swing set that I immediately set to enjoying. Susan did to for a spell, but certainly didn’t see the need to swing as high as I. She did get vid/pix of my 42-year-old immaturity though (you’ll have to click on the images for biggification):
Personally, there is a joy in swinging that I’d too long forgotten. So much so that I wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days I make a trip back over to the beach just to get me some more.
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