There’s an odd saying, something about dancing like nobody’s watching.
The sentiment is noble in gesture. It says you should not allow the thoughts of others to impede a good time.
We tell our children about my best friend Geoffrey, who – even by his standards – hasn’t been well of late, spends most of his time in a wheelchair, can’t see a lot and only remembers anything which happened before the Vietnam War.
Take one look at him and you wouldn’t think he was capable of breaking a sweat.
But crank up something by The Doors or The Supremes and the old fellow’s eyes light up. His body’s not keeping up, but the pupils are jumping to a rhythm he’s got fond memories of.
He can’t remember my name, but he somehow knows the middle name of a girl who’d picked him up in a backlot underground nightclub in 1968.
Knows what he was wearing, and where he left most of it.
Knows the name of the nightclub owner, too. But that’s a story for another day.
Point is, Geoffrey never did worry what others said about his dancing. He was no John Travolta, and I suppose that’s the point. He didn’t care that whatever break-dancing move he was pulling was a good 25 years ahead of its time.
So, while it’s okay to dance while nobody’s watching, I fail to understand how or why the saying extended to our beaches.
Not “dancing”. People have been doing that on sand for a long time.
What I’ve not heard is anything which makes it acceptable to “bathe” like nobody’s watching. Whatever happened to the bronzed Aussie? Being treated for skin cancer, I hear you say?
Last week on the Gold Coast, Wanda and I took a stroll along the esplanade during an afternoon of extreme heat.
Not a holiday, just something we hadn’t done in a long while. We thought the sea breeze might provide some cooling comfort, yet all it did was blow sand into our wrinkled faces.
Thankfully, there are patches of grass where it’s possible to watch the world go by, and in the case of those laying their towels and lathering a thick layer of sunscreen on their semi-clad bodies, I realised some things had changed.
Yes, people are more health conscious. That’s a great thing.
However, the other thing that struck me was that there was no stereotype beach goer.
Sure, there were those who obviously lived across the road with surfboards racked against the tongue and groove, skin the same shade as a Tim Tam.
But looking in front of us, we see – and comment – that the diversity of size, shape and colour is only matched by the variety of art tattooed to their exposed limbs.
The anchor I had pinned to my forearm in the mid-70s is fine. It’s mine, and it’s just fine. Fine, did you hear me?
Over the years, I’ve been lucky enough to travel to quite a few places around the globe, and my go-to point for relaxation has always been the beach.
We’re lucky in Australia to have the best beaches – by some distance – than anywhere else. They are unparalleled, unmatched. They’re cleaner, whiter, more expansive.
And here we are in a society which allows everybody, regardless of who they or what they look like, to enjoy them like nobody’s watching.
Except me. And Wanda. But not in a judgmental way, rather in admiration for the smiles that sit on so many people’s faces as they enjoy the space and freedom their country offers them.
Let it be said that there are places in Europe that received the “bathe like nobody’s watching” memo as early as the 1950s. They took it too far. Nude bodies everywhere if I remember right. Gross, albeit liberating for that period, I suppose.
Thank goodness we embraced Speedos, Billabongs and a respectful Jackie Howe into our wardrobe.
Regardless, I look left and see plus models on a billboard. I look right and an ad for fast food represents people of many origins.
I turn to Wanda. I tell her I love her. Because while many would like to say the world is decaying into a cesspit of recalcitrance, I’d like to argue there are many things which are better than they used to be.
People being who they want to be, dancing like nobody’s watching.
Hey, Wanda … “No Wayne, we’re not going back to Logan to get your swimmers.”
