Where’s the Governor?

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HYANNIS PORT – Sunday- There’s speculation as to whether or not California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was in town today.  

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Before I get into rumors, allow me to preface all this by saying that our Senator “Ted” Kennedy and his dogs appeared to be in friendly spirits after their Sunday afternoon sail around Nantucket Sound.  (See top photo)

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However, ‘It was no day at the beach’ for me. 

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Photo 1:  Actually, the previous line isn’t exactly true.  It started out as my day at the beach when this friendly golden retriever brought me a tennis ball and decided to keep me company for a bit.  So, not wanting to offend my new friend, I decided to delay my usual kayak trip.  The two of us became fast buddies when I decided it was a lovely day to take a photograph of the breakwater on the horizon.

Photo 2:  So wanting to get a closer view I naturally took several steps along the public beach, and was about to snap my photo when suddenly some man with white hair operating a golf cart decided to have a family reunion smack dab in the middle of my shot.  Upon closer inspection I was surprised to see that it was none other than Senator Ted Kennedy.  He was having a chat with a woman who appeared to be Maria Shriver and her children.  I was elated to see that the 'gang was all here,' besides it’s always nice to see Ted out enjoying himself these days.  But my “Kodak moment" was short lived.

Photo 3:  All of sudden, a portly man dressed in a blue shirt and sneakers hastily and purposefully approached.  I knew something was awry.  I mean, who in their right mind wears sneakers on the beach?  ...in the middle of summer?  Hmmm.

            Well, this man pointed at me and started to blurt out all sorts of personal questions.  Like, “What are you photographing?” and “Who are you with?” and “Who do you work for?” and several other inquiries I’d never voluntarily answer, especially when interrogated by a guy dressed up like he was about to do some yard work or take a trip to the town dump. 

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            I immediately developed a distrust for this rude man from out of nowhere; if he had been a cute furry dog with a tennis ball, well that would be a different story.

            I basically told him to scram. 

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            Which he didn't seem to like or be accustomed to.

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            He then tried to tell me that he was with the “California Highway Patrol” as he pursued me towards my beach chair. 

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            I was starting to get pissed; I hate annoying beach people; it's just so uncalled for, especially on such a beautiful day.

            He had picked the wrong kayaker.  

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            “Okay pal, show me some type of identification,” I said.  He produced a plastic California Highway Patrol I.D. from the pocket of his landscaping outfit.  I took it from him briefly, while I thought of a good lecture for this inept beachgoer.  (You see, I also have been trained in "How to be an A-hole 101."  In fact, I come from a long proud line of A-holes, we fled Europe during the A-hole persecutions several generations back...)

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            What followed turned out to be one of my notorious, ‘I don’t care who the hell you are or where you came from’ speeches.  I reminded the confused mixed-up ‘whoever or whatever’ that we were standing on a beach... not just any beach, but one that was part of the Town of Barnstable, which also happens to be part of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts… and that if he couldn't produce valid local or federal law enforcement identification, I would call the Barnstable Police, who along with other certain state and federal agencies are the only ones I would even consider talking to on such a fine day (and that’s only if they were polite). 

            He then told me to go do something involving the “f” word, so left with no other choice I called the local cops, as he and his other Highway Patrol buddies started playing with their walkie-talkies and puffing up their chests.  (I also noticed that just about all the California Highway dudes were driving vehicles with Rhode Island license plates – which was sort of freaky if you ask me)

Photo 4:  Meanwhile, Teddy drives off in his cart.  Looking fine and dandy, a spry young lad.  God bless him.

Photo 5:  While waiting for the cops there was some more chest puffing going on.  I had also had lessons in "Chest Puffing 101," but later learned it can lead to high blood pressure.  No thanks. 

(Notice, the Highway dude on the right at least had sense enough to wear sandals.  Good thinking buddy…)

Photo 6:  Shortly after everyone was done playing around with their walkie-talkies, probably running all my license plate information to find out if it was alright for me to legally possess a camera on a public beach, and with a Barnstable squad car making its way to the 'scene of the scene'… sneaker boy had a sudden change of heart and decided become my dear friend.

            Never one to turn down a hand offered in friendship, I shook hands with my new dear friend and then we exchanged all sorts of pleasantries… sort of... (you can rest assured, however, that I will not be driving through the state of California in the near future, at least not using my real name...)

Photo 6:  I’m not certain whether I had the presence of mind to invite 'sneaker boy' out for a friendly 'cold one' or not, but he did leave me with this very important looking card, and I'm seriously considering inviting him over for a twelve pack one of these fine sunny days…

Photo 7:  Meanwhile, one of the other Highway dudes appeared to be having some difficulty with the local parking enforcement officer… I also happened to notice that not one of the several unmarked Highway Patrol vehicles (there were at least 4) had local Town of Barnstable beach parking stickers.

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I do hope they don’t have to pay any parking fines.  That would be a darn shame.

Couldn’t we all just learn to get along while on the beach, and play nicely together with a tennis ball?  I'd like that.