The Miracle of Merging: Boys on the Beach

I was at the beach on Friday. It was a beautiful day. Glorious big waves. I was sitting in between two totally separate groups of guys and I watched as they merged, and the merging happened tentatively (for about 2 seconds), before full-on immersion, and it was like watching the Platonic Ideal of the development of democracy. When I set myself up between these groups, they were completely separate, and had nothing to do with one another because they didn’t know one another. When I left the beach, two hours later, the two groups had completely merged, were drinking beer and talking about the World Cup. If I had arrived at the beach at that moment, I would have assumed they had come to the beach together, had known one another all their lives.

So here is how it went down.

To my right was a group of guys who looked like (speaking of the Platonic Ideal) Ivy Leaguers. Maybe they were finance guys. I don’t know. All I know is they were wearing madras shorts and Ray Banz, and had some pretty high-end gear going on. Umbrellas. Boogie boards. To my right was another group of guys, who barely had one ratty towel between the four of them. The most important thing they brought to the beach was a packed cooler. They were covered in elaborate tats, and one had an actual duck-tail hairstyle (see the Elvis photo to the right. That’s what he had going on.) They were classic Jersey Shore boys, although maybe a little bit leaner, meaner.

Madras guys had a game set up in the empty space of sand behind their area. It appeared to be a cross between croquet and horseshoes. Or a ringtoss involving mallets and little spikes. Nobody was playing, though, when I arrived.

One of the Tats guys came back from the boardwalk and sort of idly inspected the game. He was trying to figure it out. One of the Madras guys, lying on his towel, noticed Tats guy’s interest. Tats guy said, “This looks pretty cool, man. How do you play?” Madras Guy got up and started telling him. Tats guy listened. One by one, curious, the other tats guys came over to listen to the rules, too, and then one by one, curious, the other Madras guys got up to join, and add their own tips for how to play the game. Without even making a decision, they all started to play.

Magically, they organized themselves into teams. It happened with no fanfare. I didn’t even notice it. It “just happened.” And it was not broken down as Tats vs. Madras. The guys had mixed themselves up, so that each team had a couple of Tats guys and Madras guys. Total blending. Madras guys knew how to play, Tats guys didn’t, but Tats guys picked it up quick. The first game was sort of a trial run, giving Tats guys a chance to get up to speed. The mood was jovial, ribald, and totally unselfconscious. They had no idea I was observing all of this go down as though it was a nature program. One of the Tats guys was having a problem picking up an aspect of the game, and he was getting frustrated (“Fuck ME,” he exploded at one point), and a Madras guy on the opposite team told him helpfully, “Use your jerkoff hand…” and Tats guy nodded like, “Okay. Thanks for the tip.” His game improved.

Within 10 minutes, a full-on ferocious competition had exploded. There were huddles where strategies were planned. There were high-fives done while mid-air. There were choruses of “OH SHIT” and “YEAHHH” when something went wrong/right.

It is possible I am jaded because I watched all this go down and kept waiting for something to throw off the equilibrium. Someone who was an asshole, someone who would ruin the mood. It never came. I saw them introduce themselves to one another, but it was totally casual and off-hand, halfway through the game – suddenly remembering, “Oh, hey, what’s your name?” Shaking hands, then turning back to the game. It didn’t matter to them what their names were. They had connected.

Tats guys had beer in their cooler. You’re not supposed to have beer on the beach. Who cares. Madras guys went over and sat in the sand with Tats guys and drank beer and talked about the World Cup. It was as though they had been friends forever. I left them that way.

All was right with the world.