PONTAL DE MARACAIPE - PE

PONTAL DE MARACAIPE - PE, a photo by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS on Flickr.

PONTAL DE MARACAIPE - PE by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS
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This photo tells me not to expect any snow in the forecast; it's the photo that conjures up what this blog is all about, beachfront lifestyles. Thanks to MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS

CALHETAS-PE

CALHETAS-PE, a photo by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS on Flickr.

CALHETAS-PE by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS

PRAIA DO JACARÉ - PB

PRAIA DO JACARÉ - PB, a photo by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS on Flickr.

HERMOSA DEL MAR DE PINTURA EN LA TARDE DIA--Beautiful by the sea picure in the late day...
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PRAIA DO JACARÉ - PB by MARCIO ROGERIO - FOTOGRAFIAS

Bikini Swimsuit Model Goddess

Bikini Swimsuit Model Goddess, a photo by 45SURF Hero's Journey Mythology Goddesses on Flickr.

Bikini Swimsuit Model Goddess by 45SURF Hero's Journey Mythology Goddesses
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GREAT PHOTOGRAPHY.........Keep up your great work. The world welcomes beautiful photos of smiling, pretty women. It is our hope for a better world, a kinder and more gentle world. Robert

Manhattan Beach

Manhattan Beach, a photo by VerismoVita on Flickr.

Great photo. You captured a good amount of real estate here. Most beachfront views go for $5,000,000 to start. I spent the summer of 1958 here. Great memories. Great photo.
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Manhattan Beach by VerismoVita

SANTA FE TO LOS ANGELES FOR A BEACH WEEKEND 1960S

One of the last Santa Fe passenger trains on its way to San Diego. This photo is not one I took. I used Wikipedia for this classic memory. If memory serves me correctly, it was in 1971 when Amtrak took over this route.

My memory serves me right when I remember the weekend trips I took from San Diego to Los Angeles on this coastal train. Sitting and sipping a drink, I was totally fascinated by the beauty of the coast. What a great trip, beginning with the train ride, then getting out in Los Angeles and making my way toward Santa Monica on the "big blue bus." (Photo of Venice Beach above is not mine, it is one I downloaded from Wikipedia and is in the public domain.)

Once I reached Santa Monica, I would rent a cheap motel room for about $9 per night. It would become my personal "beach house" for the weekend. I would shower, lay my threads out on the bed, figuring out which outfit I would wear when I began my bar hopping hunt after sunset. Usually, khaki trousers with a black polo shirt, yes, that would be cool. Shoes? Always wore the brown suede Hush Puppies.

So, having decided that part of my first night, I would fix myself a drink. Vodka over icecubes mixed with a cold can of pop from the vending machine down the outside hallway.

Yes, I felt relaxed as the vodka calmed the nerves in the back of my neck. As I sipped my drink, I peered out my window facing the beach, noting every bikini-clad young lady who passed by on her way to the sandy beach only a few hundred feet away. Yes, those were the days, my friends.

REMEMBERING THE ALLEYS OF
VENICE BEACH, CALIFORNIA 1960S

A watercolor by Robert L. Huffstutter. Remembering the alleys of Venice Beach while I lived there in 1959 and 1960. It was a fun time in my life on the beach.

REMEMBERING THE SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA BEACH TOWNS OF THE 60S

You will notice the relaxed attitudes of this group of young people. This was the typical street corner crowd in most of any of the southern California towns along the beaches in the 1960s.
Those who were not here were either in Vietnam or still back on the farm, plowing, planting and making food for America to eat. Others you do not see here were working the mines of West Virginia, working their asses off to keep the lights on here in the USA. Some of those absent were hanging out in law schools, figuring out how to implement new ideas when their turn at bat came up.
But sooner or later, most everyone spent their share of time on the street corners here, until they got tired of the day after day routine of nothingness. Sooner or later, each would find a destiny, a path to follow. Those who remained became more tan and sun-baked; some became real estate moguls while others finally married the one they had been shacked up with for the past two years and began having children.
If you are in your late 30s to your early 50s, you could be an off-spring of this 60s generation. We are all Americans with diverse backgrounds, but we shared one thing in common for many years--freedom.

BEACHFRONT CONDO OFFERS SERENITY

AS I WALKED AROUND VENICE BEACH IN THE EARLY MONTHS OF 1960, I met several old gentlemen who owned a home right on the beach, right on the Strand or Promenade, whatever one chooses to call this long ribbon of concrete that runs the length from just north of the Santa Monica Pier all the way to Manhattan Beach and beyond. One can walk this Strand, cycle it on a pedal bike or jump on the "Nickel Snatcher." It costs more now.

So, in the early days of 1960, these two very old gentlemen whom I originally met at the Carousel or some other small and fun bar told me they were wanting to sell their small, two-bedroom bungalow for around ten grand and thought I might consider it an investment. They looked like they had enough money to last them far beyond their lifespan, but I just assumed they were ready to retire to a quieter and less hectic lifestyle. In their 80s, they had to be careful while walking to the grocery.

And they were drinkers too, so they had to watch their steps even more carefully. By noon, they were well into another world as they sipped California wines. "Buy this property and get it off our hands," the elder of the two demanded. I liked the place. And although Venice was in a general state of disrepair, I sensed the time would come when the property value would increase.

THE BEACH THROUGHOUT OUR LIFETIME

FROM THE FIRST TIME...I saw the Pacific Ocean and the beach, it was a relationship that was personal and loving, though it grew lonely at times and at times almost too lonely for me to continue. There is the photo of the footprints in the sand, taken by my good friend, Shane, a Kansas City friend who has been a friend and friend indeed. I borrowed his photo from his Facebook page because it reminds me of the "Footprints In The Sand" poem. The bench at the top is a concrete seat where I sat while taking some time out in the Veterans's Hospital back in Perry Point. If I had never seen the beach, if I had never walked along the beach, would my life have been different?

What would I have missed that has been so special to me throughout my lifetime? This is a question each of us can ask about a favorite geographical location. No matter how full of joy an area might be, there are usually some heartaches attached in our memories. I will not use this space to dwell on my saddest moments, neither will I say that "life is a beach" without the thought of some of the sorrow I have known as I walked the beach deep in thought about decisions I have made.

FREE LIKE A GULL, FREEDOM OF THE BEACH LIFESTYLE

At this very moment, there are bureaucrats sitting in cubicles drawing up new lists of rules and regulations about our nation's beaches and coastal waterways. One of the regulations in some areas is a ban on smoking anywhere near the beach. This is wrong. These type of bans are unconstitutional and should be stopped before the smoker has nowhere near the beach to enjoy a smoke. Since smoking is not unlawful, and since smokers usually pay tobacco taxes, there should be an area where smokers are able to smoke. Let us keep in mind that each of us, smokers or not, have very personal civil rights about the space around our faces and we must reach a mutual agreement on the presence of smoke. However, we must remain sensible about the bans that are posted.

The color photographs in this feature are by David Craig Wylie, one of California's best coastal photographers. I have known David for nearly five years now, though we have only met on the internet and share some of the same preferences in photography. I do not believe Dave is a smoker. I am a smoker and I am one who values my freedom as a treasure. David feels much the same as I do about liberty and freedom.

THE FIRST TIME I SAW THE PACIFIC OCEAN,

IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT...

I have never been the same. Since that summer day in 1959, my mind has been full of the kind of freedom gulls must feel as they soar, swoop, dip, dive and finally find a perfect place to relax for awhile. Freedom of the beach. Let us hang onto that freedom like we do our treasures. Let us not let those who make such rules and regulations ruin it for us and our offspring.

ENOSHIMA ISLAND, A WATERCOLOR BY R.L. HUFFSTUTTER

ENOSHIMA ISLAND was one of my favorite destinations for a weekend getaway while I was stationed in Japan in the early1960s, more than 50 years ago. While that is, indeed, a long time ago, my memories of Enoshima are as pristine and clear as if it was only yesterday when I climbed those steep stairs that led to the top where various shrines were located.

It wasn't the shrines, really, that appealed to me as much as the various little shops where gifts were sold. Some of the items sold were intended, if I recall, for the ancestors while others were for the tourists. Before meeting the young lady whom I shall never forget, I went to Enoshima alone. After meeting Noko, we went to Enoshima together. I still have one of the gifts she purchased for me, a seashell ship with masts. Since I was a sailor, she thought it was perfect. Yes, it was the perfect gift, wrapped in red paper with gold ribbon bow. I remember her eyes watching me as I unwrapped the tiny gift box. Our eyes met when the miniature clipper ship came into view. Neither of us thought about a time not too far in the future when she would be waving good-bye to me, a sayonara time, from Yokosuka pier. But we were in Enoshima and we were enjoying the moment. There would be so much time to think about the future--and the past.

Enoshima probably looks nothing like it did in 1962. What impressed me was the stone walls that were so perfectly constructed on the sides of the stairs that kept climbing up and up. Some were covered with a deep green moss, an emerald shade of green, moist and controlled by the creases in the various stones that served as boundaries for each stone.

Noko and I enjoyed several trips to Enoshima before I finally steamed away from Pier 7 at Yokosuka on 30 December 1963. At the time, our plans were to meet again and spend our lives together. Fate stepped in and changed our plans. As I grow older, I have to accept that it was Fate that made me forsake the love of my life. Am I alone in this situation or are there others who share my sorrows when it comes to affairs of the heart? In order to justify our romance, I must simply say that it was a short romance, one that was not meant to last. If her memories are as bittersweet as mine, then we still share a certain link that will never disappear from our hearts or minds.

ENJOYING SMOKE IN ENSENADA, BAJA CALIFORNIA, PLAZA HOTEL 1960

ENJOYING SMOKE IN ENSENADA, BAJA CALIFORNIA, PLAZA HOTEL 1960, a photo by roberthuffstutter on Flickr.

ENJOYING SMOKE IN ENSENADA, BAJA CALIFORNIA, PLAZA HOTEL 1960

Frio amanecer.

Frio amanecer. a photo by constancio agüí on Flickr.

This work has two features that appeal to me: the abstract of the surf and the reality of the horizon, both combined to make a fantastic image of the sea and surf.

It is an oil of remarkable talent; the colors are spectacular and reflect the beauty of the sea as it comes ashore. A great work
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Frio amanecer.
Pintura rápida.

Óleo a espátula sobre lienzo, tamaño 45x55.

Uploaded by constancio agüí on 25 Jan 11, 12.57AM PST.

Odilon Redon - Breton Village at National Art Gallery Washington DC

Odilon Redon - Breton Village at National Art Gallery Washington DC
Originally uploaded by mbell1975

This is my first glimpse of this work. Immediately, I was enthralled by the levels of color, the levels of the composition using the rooftops and the geometrics of the buildings. It is well put together with colors that are complimentary, colors that speak Breton, and it bespeaks an era that I would have chosen to be a part of, at least for awhile. This is definitely a work I would rather see on my wall rather than in the Smithsonian, at least for a few months out of the year.

One of the best paintings I have seen in almost 70 years, and I just saw this work. There is so much left to learn and one lifetime is not nearly enough to enjoy the world of art.

This painting of Breton Village is a real masterpiece, in my opinion. It is one of the best works I have seen in many decades. I must see more of this painter's work and study the work much more. The light, the composition, the balance--it is truly a joy to view.

Odilon Redon - Breton Village at National Art Gallery Washington DC
Odilon Redon - Breton Village, 1890

East Wing - National Art Gallery Washington DC

Uploaded by mbell1975 on 28 Dec 10,

"NEW YEAR'S EVE IS OVER, NOW EVERYONE GO HOME AND HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011"

"NEW YEAR'S EVE IS OVER, NOW EVERYONE GO HOME AND HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011"
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

Earl R. Stonebridge's new year's eve party will be one of those events that will seem like fantasy as time passes, but the party is over and until next year, according to Earl, "...there won't be another party of this nature anywhere near my place." Earl talked to the reporters from TYME shortly before dawn this first day of the new year as the party was ending at his estate just south of Laguna. The theme was all about the 60s and according to some locals, the popping of the champagne corks could be heard beyond the twelve-mile off shore limit
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NEW YEAR'S EVE IS OVER, NOW EVERYONE GO HOME AND HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011"
Photo by Robert L. Huffstutter

Uploaded by roberthuffstutter on 1 Jan 11, 11.24AM PST.