Frogs in a blender

Hi kids!

We went to the beach fish fry last night. There are three small
restaurants near us that have a 'fish fry' special on Wednesday
nights. We had fresh fish, conch fritters (chewy and delicious!), rice
and guava roll for dessert. No, I don't know what a guava is, but it
was good.

The restaurant was outside. It was nice eating in the warm breeze. The
bad part came later.

After we paid our bill we wandered over to another place, right on the
beach, where they were playing loud reggae music and serving drinks.
We watched a group of thirty Japanese tourists play 'take my picture'
for about a half hour. These guys just LOVE snapping pictures. First
one guy had to take a group picture of all of them using each one's
camera. Thirty 'squeeze in and smiles'. Then all the boys took group
pictures of all the girls. Then they made them turn around and did it
again. Then all the girls took group pictures of the guys. Turn around
and repeat. Lord, didn't they go on with this for a long time!

Then it got really ugly. Most of the crowd was old white people from
cruise ships. The night got dark and the old white people's
inhibitions started slipping away. They got up to dance.

Children, there is nothing uglier than a bunch of old white farmers
and farmettes whose proper Protestant inhibitions have been eroded by
island fare and island air trying to dance to a reggae or hip hop
beat. Oh, praise the lord, was it ugly. They looked like frogs in a
blender. One of these Midwestern escapees had been convinced by his
distance from home to have beads woven into his beard by the lady in
the booth downtown who puts cornrows in people's hair. So he was
kicking up his heels with these beads bouncing around his chin.
Whoop! Who let the dogs out! Whoop! Whoop!

Please, children, dance. Learn to dance now. Dance from your heart. Be
good at it. Maybe, just maybe, when you get on in life and show up at
the Bahama beach to cut loose on the dance floor you can look like
you've been there before.