The screensaver photo I am currently using is a shot from our cruise to the Hawaiian Islands last fall. It’s a bright and warm day in Waikiki and the setting is a rooftop swimming pool at the Hotel Miramar where we stayed for a few nights at the end of the cruise.
But in the photo, aside from the pool, deckchairs, etc. stands a bikini-clad young woman. She wasn’t the motivation for taking the picture – really, she wasn’t – but since she is there, poised at the edge of the water, tending to her upswept hair prior to dousing herself, I began to wonder about her.
It’s strange how somebody can be included in a photograph and hence, immortalized in my files, yet I know nothing about her. Do I want to know anything about her? Do any of you know her? Is she a sister, or daughter, or niece?
I have, however, developed a backstory of my own about her.
Her name is Amanda, but she goes by Mandy.
She was raised in the US Midwest (Minnesota, I think. OK with that, Pearl?) but currently lives in Portland, OR. She’s recently married, to a grade school teacher named Harvey. They were high school sweeties and things are OK between them. Not great. Just quite OK.
Judging by the photo, Mandy’s a ‘healthy’ girl. You know, grain-fed and all that. She was in 4-H and raised her own calf when she was 16.
Although I don’t recall having seen her face, I suspect she’s pretty. And, if it wouldn’t embarrass her, permit me to say she has a great caboose (as guys of my dad’s generation used to say). Good strong legs, too. Probably swims well.
She swims well, but she’s at the pool because the ocean, with all its sharks and all, not to mention “icky” salt taste doesn’t appeal to her.
She and old Harv went on a moonlight cruise the previous evening and Mandy got a little too heavily into the mai-tais, so she’ s not feeling all that well at the pool this lovely morning. Harvey feels worth, which is why he’s at the poolside bar around the corner in this picture having a refreshing brewski to get the dust out of his throat.
Love you, Mandy. And if you’re reading this, drop me a blog comment. And Portland’s a really nice town so, even though you’re homesick for St. Paul, think of the winters back there.
Enjoyed this piece enormously. We were just looking at our vacation photos on the t.v. screen, and we took the time to study the faces in the crowd. Amusing to see what people are up to when they are in a crowd setting. I’m always expecting to see someone engaged in some nefarious activity.
I am protective of my beautiful daughter, as some men can be quite offensive and leer at her, take photos of her while she is shopping, and make comments under their breath, all of which make her very uncomfortable. She certainly doesn’t dress provocatively, or look for attention. I once looked at a man that was salivating when he saw her, and loudly asked him “what are you looking at?” Quite sure he will think twice before he subjects another young woman to that. Be subtle, Ian. Women like subtle…… Drooling, not so much.
No sophisticated man is ever unsubtle, Debra. Cards close to the chest. Anyway, I don’t go about leering at females, including Mandy in the story. I just chose to make up a tale about her.
Love this. I play “lives” all the time when I’m waiting in airports.
Oh, we do that, too. A remarkably entertaining way to pass the time. Remember the blog about ‘Bob and the Girls’ I wrote years ago? I should resurrect that one. Similar theme to Mandy but different plot line.
I loved the tale. I didn’t mean to imply that you were anything but respectful. You must have hit a nerve. When my late husband and I first met, we would always create stories about the characters we would see on the street, or wherever we happened to be. He was an actor, and he would put on fabulous skits about some of the people we saw. Hysterically funny and great fun.
I love your blog, Ian. I only just started reading it and now find myself spending an inordinate amount of time reading your previous entries, trying to make up for lost time.
Well, now, thank you for the kudos. Actual skits about the characters of life; what could be better?
Lithus and I do this daily. Local or tourist? Conventioneer or dream vacation? First day, last day? Also, we often wonder just how often we make it home in the background of vacation photos of people we never even saw.