If You Steal My Sunshine

On my way to a surfin' safari at San Onofre State Beach this afternoon, No Doubt's Rock Steady album blasted and the wind blew my hair all about. In my peacefully charged bliss, I pulled off the freeway at Basilone Rd., veered appropriately right, and took in the sights of blue ocean and white tubes. As my glance wandered left, I saw a disturbing sight.

Across the 5 Freeway resides the 11-mile stretch of Camp Pendleton Marine Base. In the air, I saw several white flares highlighting the mid-day sky with cloudy lines and fire. Later that day, not far from where I saw the flares erupted an all-out fire. This fire eventually billowed black smoke into an area highly visible of my surf sesh. I'm not concluding that the flares directly caused the fire, yet the scene slightly disturbed me altogether. Smoky skies, in any capacity, makes the bohemian in me sad like the "Wierd Naked Indian" dude in Wayne's World 2. Tear.

I've lived most of my life 30 minutes from the base, where frequent drills occur within sight (often overhead in choppers) of the 5 Freeway. While this is never exactly a friendly sight for me, it's nothing new. However, while some might cheer the drills as preparation for freedom, I must admit that I don't share their excitement. Call me a weiner, I just don't like the imagery of warfare via practical drills a mile away the place where I put my "zen" face on (my fave surf beach).

Listen, before those of you who A) are involved in the military in some way or B) support wars of freedom, in general, or the Middle East debacle, in specifics, this is not meant to dishonor your service and/or beliefs. Don't get all up in arms, okay! I may be a "lib" but I support our troops and have family in the military. Simply, I felt like directing an open comment toward the ugly and ironic scene occurring so close to the place that makes me feel most at peace in this world.

My surf sesh was still awesome and relaxing, so long as I didn't look too far right of Pam Anderson, a.k.a. the nuclear reactor with boobs. Sometimes, I guess we simply must be reminded that in all our peaceful bliss, somebody's paying for it somewhere.