Water Park Revelation: What I Learned from Seeing Elderly Men in Speedos

  Recently I went to a water park with my kids and I have to say, it was downright revelatory. Here are a few things that struck me.  

1. Walmart will sell a bikini to anybody. For reals. No physical prerequisites. Whatever your “situation,” Faded Glory is down with it.
2. That said, 50% of Americans may be dissatisfied with the President, but 99.9% of folks at Splashtown, Spring, Texas, are totally satisfied with themselves. 
3. I don’t know what they are making bikinis of these days, but the tensile strength of it is mind boggling. They should make bridges and sky scrapers out of it. I saw strings holding up, holding back and holding down body parts that I’m not sure the Hoover Dam could handle.
4. Anyone, regardless of race, religion or tax bracket, can get plastic surgery and they do. A lot. All over. I heard a kid ask their parent for some ice cream and the parent replied to the child, “do I look like I’m made of money?” I’m not sure what the kid said in response but in fairness, both yes and no should have been completely acceptable.
5. There should be a Room of Reckoning that you must walk through before entering the park akin to the Southern Oracle that Atreyu had to walk through in The Neverending Story. In that room you should see what your swimsuit will look like after getting off a water slide. If it appears as if your body has in fact swallowed the swimsuit, you should have to put on a pair of shorts. If you refuse, you get fried Southern Oracle style.
6. If you are pregnant, don’t waste your money on a tent-like swimming frock. (See #1)
7. If you are a fair skinned red head like me, do the honorable thing and wear a burqini. (Look it up. It’s a real thing.) Not only will it keep you from blinding others with your luminous, pale skin, but it will protect you from the sun. Plus, if you get one in black, like I have, people tend to let you step ahead of them in line because they fear you may in fact be the Angel of Death.
8. I now know where Tim Burton goes for inspiration.
9. The only people not having fun, the %.1 I referred to in #2, were probably the folks worried about how they looked. Did I see any of those people, the ones tugging their swimsuit to make sure they were covered or sucking in their stomachs? No. I saw no one seemingly worried about their appearance. I assume they existed just by statistics.
10. Being surrounded by folks completely oblivious or unfettered by social propriety, is kind of nice.

While I have to say that although I do not approve of teeny bikinis on women, men or kids, I wholeheartedly am in favor of being ok with who you are. Whatever your situation, tall, short, fat, thin, pregnant to the max, and/or tragically pale, embrace it. If you spend all your time tugging at your swimsuit or wondering which waterslide will make your thighs look the best, you’re going to miss the fun and not just at Splashtown, but in life. How do I know that? Personal experience.

I’ve missed the fun on occasion. I was the girl at the beach digging a hole in the sand so when I lied down, my butt would go into it, thereby making it seem smaller. Yes, I did that. I also sucked in my nonexistent gut and stuck out the padding of my bathing suit top. (Seriously, I had so much padding, I could have been shot at point blank in the heart and walked away unscathed.) 

And, that’s all I was able to do. Suck it in, stick it out, make sure my butt was securely in the hole I had dug. I couldn’t get up and have fun because the only thing anybody can do when all they’re thinking of is how they look, is think about how they look. You can’t surf, knee board, play beach volleyball or even build a proper sand castle because a righteous sand castle involves squatting and bending over.

So, in summary, may we all take a lesson from the lady at Splashtown wearing a leotard and stockings, the elderly men in Speedos and the man with the tattoo that was probably way cooler before whatever surgery he had that cut out the middle portion of it, as well as the multitude of others completely unfettered by social propriety. May we all, like them, embrace who we are and how we look so fiercely that we are able to completely let go and enjoy every moment of life.