The tourists start early.
By daybreak, even on a Sunday, they forgo church and make the sand their sanctuary. The groups are easier to spot. They dress alike for the wedding photo, engagement, graduation, anniversary or expected baby.
They want the best future so they pick Laguna Beach.
The photos will show up on their memory feeds, posed with just the right amount of forgiving light and background blur.
This purposeful affectation has become normalized because candid is somehow less than. Even “candid” poses are suspect. Is that a real smile or a fake one? It’s hard to tell. Now with AI nothing is certain.
Why show up at the beach at all? Just take a family photo in the backyard, then tell Photoshop or any other program to create a paradise instead.
It’s here now, the manufactured life, the surreal life that’s so real the word “surreal” has lost its meaning.
The reality is tourists don’t really care. They want what they want. And who can blame them? It’s Laguna. Why create a paradise when there’s a real one just a short drive away?
And drive they do. This summer, like so many, has been inviting. With warm days, lingering COVID claustrophobia and threats of hurricanes, people are not taking anything for granted.
Why wait for life? Why wait when one catastrophe can level a town.
Make no mistake, Laguna can be Lahaina – in a heartbeat. The shops, the whaling wall, the landmarks … gone.
And then what? Doubtless, we would return to our roots: the ocean, the sand, the infinite horizon.
Like tourists, we would claim the right to capture a picture-perfect future, using Laguna as our fountainhead.
But we would forgo the unnecessary posing, filters, and bad background music.
Instead, we would just breathe, drink the salty air, and move forward, buoyed by the comfort of the tide.
