

So this morning I decided to “do church” by driving twenty minutes south from my place in Savannah’s historic district to Tybee Island. Even though the dark clouds kept threatening to open up, I communed with nature and thanked God for the beauties of creation.
(I wanted to take up an offering, but the obviously heathen beachcombers just would not cooperate.)
So I walked.



And looked.






And listened.
And then, lo and behold, at one point I glanced up from checking my stock portfolio …

… and all of a sudden JUST KNEW what my Tybee trip this morning was Really All About:
“Look! I am meant to Be a Lifeguard!”

And, clearly, the island is in dire need–the lifeguard stand stands sadly empty.






“Hey you! Yes you!”

“I’m talking to you!”

“That swimming suit looks ridiculous on you!! What were you thinking?!”

And a little later:
“Oh gosh, someone’s in trouble! I gotta take action!”


After the life save, I hurried back up to my post 14.

And then this “official” rescue personage came driving up …

… and asked me what the heck I was doing on a condemned life guard stand. Like it wasn’t crystal clear that I was saving lives while he was golf-carting around and looking at girls.
“Sir, for future reference, please do not climb on these old structures. And be careful climbing down.”
(As if a fit lifeguard like me would have any issues.)

If you need me at the beach, rest assured, I will be on the lookout.

Nice Legs!
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