In times when teenages were really young, they came in daily droves... In 57' Chevys Fan tailed Plymouths, and in red convertibles, laid back and free. The girls...they were girls then... packed in like lolipops...and yes, they knew just who might be on Beaches Six and Ten. Then, swinging beach bags laden down with Coppertone and swimming caps, they searched the crowded sand for a just perfect place to spread an Indian blanket down... to lie in oiled skin beneath the pulsing sun that beat, beat, beat down rays to the rhythm of the hearts below that skipped and shivered when a bronze- tanned Prince walked by with nose Noxema white and hair slicked back, allBrill Cream cool.
Sandra Peasley Bush
