J-J-Jaded

'My beach', growing up, was Myrtle Beach, SC. With the exception of the two times we crossed the country, we went to Myrtle Beach every summer in my memory until I was eighteen.

Prior to that - prior to what I can actually remember - I summered on the beaches of New Hampshire where my dad went to grad school. I'm told I felt quite at home there. I have no cause to doubt that information.

During my mad running away from home trying to find myself years I visited many fine beaches in Texas and Florida and up and down the east and gulf coasts. I didn't make any of them my own, but I loved them all.

When I settled in the eastern PA/south Jersey region, I claimed the Jersey and Maryland shores as my own. I spent as much time there as I could, drawing something vital from the salt air by day and the boardwalk by night.

I love the beach.

So I moved to Ohio.

Yeah, I don't know. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

A couple years ago my sister introduced me to her father-in-laws place just off Marco Island in southwestern Florida. My sister and her husband have a boat and use it to get to small uninhabited island beaches.

With all those beach going years under my belt, I have never seen anything like it.

The first time she took me I was completely awestruck.

The shells are insane.

The privacy and quiet and freedom are something I've never known on a beach before.

The water temperature is perfect.

It truly is a paradise on earth.

This is the first time my family has been here.

I could not wait for my kids to experience these beaches.

Don't get me wrong - they loved it. They had a great time. They ran, they played, they swam, they shelled. It was a great day at the beach.

But they weren't impressed. They most assuredly weren't awestruck.

The things that bring delight and wonder to my middle-aged soul were viewed very matter-of-factly by my children.

Do you think kids in general are just jaded? Or do you think they just expect wonderful things to the point of taking them for granted?

I remember traveling with my own parents and having my mom get all excited about something we were going to see or do and giving it a big build up. When we finally got there, more often than not, my sister and I would say something on the order of, "That's cool, I guess.", shrug, and look for something to play.

We were certainly not jaded.

We hadn't seen it all.

But we had no reason to believe there shouldn't be wonder all around us. We enjoyed it - as my children enjoyed their day on the pristine isolated beach - but we weren't amazed.

Expecting wonder.

Jaded, as I've implied? Unappreciative, as my mom expressed?

Or just the opposite?