I love the opportunity travel affords for one of my favorite pastimes—people watching. I had two back-to-back trips recently that gave me ample and varied people-watching opportunities.

Not all of it is good. Here’s an example of a conversation I witnessed in the airport:

Old woman to husband (in a slightly bossy tone): “Go to the bathroom, tuck in your shirt, and put your belt on.”

Husband: “Okay.”

From that little exchange I can guess a lot about what marriage is like for this couple. Poor guy.

Then on the airplane I sat next to a couple who smooched a lot. Just what I wanted to see for three hours. Tonsil hockey. Ick!

On the plus side, people-watching in Boston was great. I’ll have to write a separate blog post on why I’m crazy about Boston, but one of the things I love is the general air of history and education, which doesn’t exist in the touristy, theme park, vacation environment of Central Florida. To me it seems to permeate the atmosphere, even among those who are not educated beyond high school. I saw people reading everywhere. People reading while laying out on the grass in Boston Commons, reading in the subway, reading in the airport. People in Boston READ. As someone who used to regularly walk into doors and walls while reading (being unable to put down a book even for the length of time it took to move from one room to the next), I love being in an environment where people take a book with them everywhere they go.

People watching at the beach this weekend was completely different. Here were people clearly on vacation. Lots of families. Some of whom looked happier to be there than others. Lots of bathing suits. Some of which were entirely too skimpy. It really makes one wonder what some people are thinking! I also noticed that lots of people dress their little girls in bikinis. I don’t know why this bothers me; I certainly don’t have anything against girls in bikinis. But Maia has never had one and won’t until she asks. I guess I was a little put off several years ago when she attended the birthday party of a boy from her class at daycare. There was an inflatable water slide, so of course bathing suits were a must. The grandfather of the birthday boy had heard much of Maia but had not, until then, met her. He expressed disappointment that she wasn’t wearing a bikini. It was probably an innocent remark, but a grandfather being disappointed that my 3-year-old daughter was not sporting a bikini creeped me out a little, and so to this day I have yet to buy one for her. Of course this story has nothing at all to do with people watching except that ever since then, I’ve always noticed just how rare a one-piece swimsuit is on little girls.