The Speedo is an interesting fashion statement to put it generously. It’s a study in human behaviour. It’s an exercise in give and take both from the refrained audience and the ballsy wearer’s perspective. It’s a symbol of self confidence as much as it is a man trapped in a young boy’s bathing suit drawing a crowd and comments and all of them questioning why now, why today, why, oh why in front of the children?

We spent the weekend on the beach, a non-European beach, a beach with perhaps a few European immigrants to Canada, most of whom had fully adopted and supported the all-Canadian, total coverage, polite, male bathing suit.

A gentleman in his late thirties strutted past our sand castle post with a thin build, a peacock chest, feathers prominently poofed wearing a bathing suit bottom that provided coverage of his frank and beans only.

On a beach where the Speedo to ¾ length jammers ratio is 1: 428 and the population of said beach is 429, is it any wonder why the Speedo sporter might draw a few stares? It’s a bit like riding down the beach on a unicorn. When you’re the only one, people are probably going to notice….and perhaps want to ask you some questions.

This particular gentleman made his way past our sandy haze as adults tried to engage in moat building, wave jumping, an uncomfortable discussion surrounding body hair, anything to distract from the odd choice in adult male, swimwear sauntering past that in some ways challenged everything it meant to be Canadian.

I guess what struck me was when his walk came to an abrupt halt when he reached the property line and he took two quick basketball, warm-up-circulation style jumps, turned the Speedo back in our direction, followed by a leisurely jog heading back from where he came.

Where he came from remains unknown. We deduced he walked from at least one property length away, crossed in front of us and ran back at least one property length.

Perhaps in some respects I’m relieved summer is over. This is one less uncomfortable conversation I’ll need to have with the children as the weather cools.

We don’t know his name, or how old the bathing suit was. We do know he came into our lives for a reason for a brief, albeit excruciatingly personal visit.

Everything else remains a mystery–The man, the Speedo, the unicorn.