...beats a beach.

It's known as Sardinia's Emerald Coast. Where rich and famous people hang out. Far too rich for my blood, if not my pocketbook. My true love and I drove by and through the place the other day. I couldn't get away fast enough. Made me uncomfortable. Because there seemed to be no beach access for ordinary folk. My true love discouraged stopping for an espresso because it might cost an exorbitant sum. High prices discourage the riff-raff. On this day, the hotels and homes along the Emerald Coast seemed clustered in a ghost town. We saw hardly anyone. Because it's the off-season. I was thankful for that. Because we might have been arrested. For driving a 1986 Fiat. A sign that we are not rich or famous. And therefore, don't belong. I was wondering if the affluent had access to the beaches along the coast. But as I looked down from a high cliff, I noticed a swank and lengthy swimming pool. Almost big enough to float a battleship or aircraft carrier. Guess that for some people, that beats a beach. --Jim Broede