Friday, March 25, 2005
While growing up there were many things that my family liked to do together. One of the finest things was to take a trip to the harbor one town over. Oceanside's harbor is relatively small, but to us children it was a place of great excitement and wonder.
My family loved to walk along the wooden planks and watch the seagulls, the fishermen, the locals, tourists, but most of all, we loved to watch the boats. The different kinds of "sea travel" would bring much speculation from all of us children. My parents would foster the dialogue with questions like,"Do you think that he lives on his boat?" "Maybe this boat belonged to pirates." "I wonder where this boat has traveled."
Oh, yes, just thinking about taking a trip to the harbor brings the pungent scent of sea water mixed with fish guts deep into my lungs. Going to the harbor made a Saturday evening wonderous.
A trip to the harbor was not complete unless we had a stop at the Candy Store. I don't know how the tradition got started, but whenever we visited the Oceanside Harbor, my parents knew that they had better have enough cash in their pocket to purchase their ticket of departure. The price they would pay was $1 per child. What would they have to purchase? Seven large jaw breakers, of course.
One jawbreaker the size of each small child's two fists put together would keep all of us children quiet the whole ride home. This small price for 15 mintues of peace and silence must have been worth every penny to my parents. Mom and dad also knew they would have to put up with our moans of pain for the rest of the week, but still, it was worth it.
If you have never had the joy of finishing off a LARGE jawbreaker before, let me fill you in. We would lick and lick, until half of the jawbreaker would be worn flat. It was magical to see which color layers you could break through. To this day, whenever I view an image on earth and its layers, I still think about those hundreds of jawbreakers consumed. The images always have a pretend image of the earth cut in half, as to portray the different layers...these images look just like a half consumed jawbreaker.
Why am I so familiar with the state of a half consumed jawbreaker, you ask. The reason is that most of the jawbreakers we earned at the harbor almost never got more than halfway consumed. When a tongue is engaged in that much liking through harsh layers, it eventually gives way. Yes, the jawbreakers would eventually smooth out, but they would always leave our tongues one bloody mess. Therefore, we never had the courage to actually finsih the delectable eye candy. When we got home, we would retire the jawbreakers away in a sandwich bag, and before our tongues would heal, they would usually end up in the garbage.
When I think of the Harbor, not only do I smell the scents of the sea, but I can't help but salivate profusely... the saliva tastes of a mix between layered sugar and bloody tongue. I can't figure out why whenever I see a large jawbreaker, I STILL MUST HAVE ONE. You would think that my tongue has endured enough torture by now.