Bikinis? Oh hell no. I thought you said martinis. Having a beach vacation is much easier than it used to be. The Boomlennial is much more comfortable being with a group of pasty white strangers and relaxing. No more worrying about a ripple or a wrinkle or a stretch mark that isn’t going to unstretch no matter what gooey concoction you apply to it. Probably not going to get toned or ripped or elongated at this point. We’ve thrown in the beach towel and are just grateful for sunshine on our scraggly face. Of course I’m the last person who still believes the sun is good for you. Love me some vitamin D. Love me some rosy cheeks and bronzed skin. Love me the mental health benefits that only that blazing ball gives me. My dermatologist may not agree with me so he is not invited along. I will deal with the consequences of my good/bad decisions if necessary and just soak up the glorious rays. I take really good care of my pancreas whatever that means so it better not be touched by that no names please disease. Planning for that beach getaway gets you through the dregs of winter. As opposed to a ski trip, beach clothes are light and small(ish) and you can bring so much more that you’re not going to wear. How fun is that! Toes get brighter, hair gets lighter. The serious books of dark days are replaced by trashy novels that you can proudly refer to as beach reads. The celebrities become my friends as I catch up on the rag magazines (sorry People), and Oprah will enlighten me with her wisdom. What’s not to love? I think salt water is good for what ails you and the straw on my head might disagree but poof! Mermaid hair, don’t care.