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Showing posts from December, 2014

NICE? OR JUST SPACED OUT? (EPILOGUE TO STOP BEING SO NICE!)

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So, out of curiosity, I decided to swim past the 9:25 time last night to see if the lifeguard would kick us out.
It was a calm night at the Oakland pool—the wild winds probably keeping even the hardiest swimmers at bay. (Yes, even though the pool is indoors, it’s a psychological thing, you know? If the weather’s cold, then the pool is less appealing.)

Yet there were a few of us. Chinese Guy Bad Butterflier. Stringy grey haired square woman. Timer guy in Hawaiian Trunks with cute girlfriend stop watching his intervals.

And me. I’m back up to swimming half of my swim again. My arm is better. The exquisite pain lessening. Though it’s still not 100%, so I moved into the walking lane at 9:20 and watched the clock. 9:25 came. I glanced up at the Bored Lifeguard who was making zero move toward her whistle. Interesting. Maybe the 9:25 enforcement last week was simply that one overzealous guard?
In any case, tonight, I just kept swimming. Till 9:30 when over the intercom I hear, “It is now 9:3…

Stop Being So Nice!

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“POOOOOL CLOSED!!!!!” Puffy Pasty Lifeguard bellows and whistles.

I pause in my kicking, glancing up at the clock. It’s only 9:25; the pool has always closed at 9:30. What’s up? Special holiday cheer for all swimmers? You thought you’d get that last 200 yards in before the whistle, but no, time’s up. Get out and get out and hey, would you just get out of the pool already?


I glance around at the other few swimmers in the pool. There are only a few of us this 23rd of December. Everyone’s at the mall? Or out of town? Or they got the memo about the pool closing 5 minutes earlier this evening and decided to stay home and watch Happy Holidays from NBC?

“Don’t we get till 9:30?” I holler back now.

She shakes her head, blows on her whistle again at one lagging swimmer. “Nope. Pool closes at 9:25.”
“Since when?” I ask.
“Since about a week ago,” she answers, as the last straggler stops at the wall. Perplexity all over his mug too.

“They should put signs up or something so we know about the ch…

Elephant Tattoo Adonis

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“Is that an Elephant Tattoo?”

Of course it is. I can see that plainly. But what else to say in the thrill of the moment, when paused at the side of the wall after kicking kicking kicking ,so amazingly boring, for the past 45 minutes, and then lo and behold a young Indian Adonis rests at the side of the wall, sporting an elegant elephant tattoo right below his collar bone?

Yikes.

I am in love.

Of course, not all of my readers may know about my obsession with elephants. It began about a year ago, in the class Art and the Symbolic Process, part of JFK’s Masters of Transformative Arts Program. We were all to pick one symbol to make art from all term. I chose the elephant because of a baby elephant dream I had and also because I saw the silhouette of an elephant during the first night of class meditation. I initially thought it was a mushroom, but no, it was the ears and trunk of an elephant.

So, now, tonight, at the Oakland Y, after kicking endlessly since I still can’t use my little ar…

Exquisite Pain

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“You sure have Strong Legs!” Water Walking Weirdo gives me a strange sideways leer.

I’d seen him earlier when I’d been kicking back and forth back and forth back and forth in one of the lap lanes: so boring! But I’ve somehow mysteriously injured my arm and while the Nurse Practitioner, when she examined me and I winced, pronounced I had “Exquisite Pain”, she also told me that it would take several weeks to resolve. I was to rest it.

This meant, no swimming. Can you even imagine?

I’d been going crazy. But then I texted the Lovely I who’d suggested that there were other ways to be in the water: “You can kickboard. Or use the water belt. Or even water walk.”

Duh. None of these would be using my arm, so on this Sunday, here I was at the Oakland Y, fin kicking mightily with the kickboard, hoping WWW would leave before I switched from kickboard to walking.

He didn’t. Much to my dismay.

I’d observed his strangeness while I’d been kicking. He had a lopsided grin and seemed to be singin…