As soon as I saw these two, I laughed. I have no idea where they were taken. I'd guess it's about 1981 or so, but the location escapes me.
Who the heck drinks champagne from a paper cup, at the Ramada? Oh yeah, my dad.
I remember spending a lot of time in the water as a kid, both at the beach and at the pool. By the time I was four, I knew how to ask if the hotel had a pool, and figured out in about five minutes how to get there. I always had tan lines, always had tons of bathing suits, and back then, I didn't care what I looked like in them. "She swims like a fish!" my dad would say.
My Aunt Irene taught me to hold my breath and swim underwater, and how to body-surf. Mom taught me about riptides and currents, and Dad? Well, Dad mostly showed me how to look really goddamn cool.