This is another area of camp life where I stuck out like a sore thumb. Boy, was my Speedo out of place! Remember all those paparrazzi photos of Aristotle Onassis in a tiny swimsuit? That's me, only without the billions of dollars that render obesity irrelevant. Actually, my Speedo stayed in the suitcase. When I hit the beach, it's in street clothes so I'll be prepared to return to the street at a moment's notice. 30-45 seconds is about the upper limit of my beach appreciation.