The Hayward Plunge? Impossible!

A couple months ago, PP glanced at the front page of the SF Chron and saw a photo of a POOL! How cool was that? How often is a pool on the front page of the newspaper? (Of course, PP would prefer this over the usual horrific news of murders, foreclosures and politics.)

Yet, on closer inspection, this Pool was featured because it was part of FDR’s Public Works Projects from the Depression era. One of the projects was building this gorgeous pool with the high hanger-like ceiling, green tiles on the pool walls, and magical fairy-tale lighting. And best of all, it was indoors.

So, PP pined for this pool, but thought, hell, I’ll never make it to Hayward of all places. Who goes to Hayward to swim when there are so many pools right here in Oakland?

Yet, the pool had been filed away in the back of her mind. So on their Beach Adventure day in Pacifica, she and DHBF took advantage of the once a year 80 degree weather, where she longed to jump into the surf but instead was sitting there under the umbrella, hiding from the sun, like an old person.





What happened? How’d she get here? Why not just jump in and frolic in the surf?

Duh. Too damn cold!

PP felt a little wistful about her lack of cold water adventure at this juncture in her life, but oh well. What’s a Highly Sensitive Kitty to do?


Later, on the way back home, right before they got on the San Mateo Bridge (After a fruitless search for the Swim School that a sign pointed to in Half Moon Bay. Why is it that Half Moon Bay is always half-assed? It seems like a good idea to go there, but then when you do, it’s always disappointing?)




Well, they didn’t find the Swim School, cuz it was Half Moon Bay, and on their way home, PP remembered that they’d have to pass through Hayward to get to Oakland after getting off the bridge.

Could they find the Hayward Plunge popped into her mind?

Of course, she didn’t know where it was. What the lap swimming hours were. How much it cost or any of the essentials, but hey, this is why cell phones might actually come in handy.

DHBF pulled over to the side of the road before getting on the bridge and PP called information, got the Hayward Plunge’s recording that stated the lap hours:5-7 p.m., M-Th. (It was then after 5:30) and the address if you pressed another button. Naturally you couldn’t talk to a person to get directions, but DHBF seemed confident: “If we have the address, I can find it.”
"24716 Mission Blvd": PP copied down from the recorded message.

Okay, but Hayward? It is a big sprawling ugly city. Where the hell is Mission Blvd? DHBF nodded his head, “It’s a main street. I bet 92 crosses it. We’ll find it.”

And off they went. Only to get stuck in horrific traffic (construction under way) after getting off the bridge.




The clock was ticking. Almost 6 o’clock. Even if they did find the pool, they’d never get there in time for lap swimming. 10 minutes to get dressed. At the very least 30 minutes to swim (though PP liked to swim for 45). This meant that they’d have to find the pool by 6:15 or 6:20 at the latest. Otherwise there’d be no swimming in this marvelous 1930’s pool that day.

The traffic crawled. The clock ticked away. 6 :00, 6 :05, 6:10; they were finally off the freeway and in the lovely rush hour traffic of Hayward.

“Maybe today, we’ll just find the pool and then we’ll know where it is for next time,” DHBF tried to soothe PP’s unspoken skepticism around ever making it in time.
“Yeah….maybe…” she murmured.

“What was the name of that street?” DHBF asks, as they crawl through the intersection.
“I can’t tell. There’s no street sign,” PP answers. And there wasn’t. In her usual optimistic paradigm, she thought, hell, that was probably Mission Street, and slumped down in her seat and the traffic came to a standstill at the longest signal in the world.

Sighing, PP glanced out the window at an overweight heavily made-up office worker on her way to Chevy’s in the idling Buick next to them.

Maybe they should just follow her and drown their non-finding-the-Plunge-in-time-sorrows?




“What’s the name of this street? Can you tell?” DHBF interrupted her alcohol infused musings. She craned her neck forward. Was it Mission Blvd?

No, it was some tree street. Acacia Street or Pine Street or Sycamore Street or some such thing. PP can’t really remember now and besides, they were never gonna make it to the pool before lap swim was over so what was the point of continuing on their quest?

Oh those Distorted Thought Patterns!

She should never let them rule…..

Because….......

~To be continued~

The Hayward Plunge

You won't believe it! Pool Host with Lane Reservation list. Under pool changing room dungeon. Finding it. Swimming in it.

There's a story, but PP is way too tired to write it now.

More when her energy resurfaces. (She's very underwater with no water in sight!)

Swimming Sheep

It’s a theme! Sheep!

First the adorable sheep in Point Reyes, and now....

Last night at the Y, a tattooed swimmer climbed into PP’s lane at the end of her swim and was waiting for her at the wall to ask if she could share the lane (Communication! PP already likes her!).

Tired and cold (the pool was freezing, but that rant has been done ad nauseum!), PP was happy to give over the lane to Tattoo Woman, but not before stopping and exclaiming over her tattoos on the inside of each arm. Initially, PP only spied one, “IS that a Sheep on your arm?”

Grinning, Sheep Tattoo Woman nodded, “Yup. That’s the Good sheep.” Then lifted her other arm, “and this is the BAD sheep.”

PP stared in delighted amazement. Good Sheep. Bad Sheep.

Which is PP?

Definitely a Bad Sheep. Or is that a Black Sheep? Are they the same?
Was the Bad Sheep tattoo black?
No, PP can’t see that it is; only that it had little Sheep Devil Horns.




PP needs some of these herself.

For when a wayward swimmer crosses over onto her side of the lane.... those horns would come in real handy.


Baaaaa!

Inverness Trip

The little cabin in the woods! Ah, to be away from the noise and bustle of the City. Even without a pool handy, (Though as you'll see, PP did visit the Marin YMCA a couple of times)PP did NOT want to leave! Much napping, reading, eating, reading, napping. Oh, and bad movies! PP highly recommends Jennifer Love Hewitt (as you all know, one of her favorites) in "Heartbreakers". She and Sigourney Weaver play mother/daughter con artists to snare rich bachelors. JLH is excellent in her spike heels and short skirts at doing her end of the con. So to speak.




Majestic North Beach (or was it South Beach? PP is horribly dyslexic when it comes to directions!) No swimming here. Unless of course, you're a whale. Which PP is NOT!








Oh the little elk at limatour. Too cute for words! Can you spy them?







Limatour Beach definitely called for ear muffs! (But in spite of the blustery wind, the walk was lovely along the shore. What a stretch of beach!) PP misses swimming in the sea so. Yet none here for the likes of her--it's only Waikiki's warm ocean waters for her now!






The next day, DHBF explored Drake's View Drive. Winding up and up and up to the end of the road, high above Tamales Bay, there was a little trail headed through a tunnel of new pines that eventually emptied out onto Limatour Beach.

PP didn't make it that far! She had to stop and rest and eat and whine about the wind before turning back and taking refuge in the car!




The Birthday Boy!




Went to Drake's Beach for DHBF's birthday. Talk about no swimming for PP! It was so blustery when she got out of the car she almost did a 'Mary Poppins'. Fortunately, once we got around this rock, the wind died down. Later, eating 200 garlic fries at the little cafe overlooking the beach, the waves crashing, wind whipped and freezing, PP actually spied two insane body surfers in the water.

What idiots.

She was so glad she was inside eating fries and watching them freeze.











The first day in our little cabin, we took a stunning hike down to Tomales Bay (no there were no Tamales in the bay, at least none that we could see from this vantage point!)




Picnic anywone?

Oh lovely Dillion Beach! PP didn't even get outta the car let alone swim here it was so damn windy.









Okay, this was just the cutest thing that PP saw the entire trip. The cows crossing the road! They were very serious and quiet. No mooing allowed! PP's delight was contagious -- she did catch one of them smiling at her from his serious cow face!




This guy was definitely full of Bull-Shit! It was all over his tail, but he didn't seem to mind!




Baaa!

Fantasy Pool

Can someone please start a collection to send PP to the Sanatorium at Yalta? (It sounds scary, but this fantasy pool is there!)

PP's dream is to swim in this greeny emerald pool. She would never leave!

Alas, it is probably just a fantasy, but oh....what exquisite torture it is to sit and stare at this pool on the computer screen and pine away for its watery embrace!

S-P-L-A-S-H Week at the Marin Y

She was just a little too perky for PP’s tastes. What with her cool little black rimmed glasses, dark bob, and lithe form.

Of course, Dashingly Handsome Boyfriend was enjoying the show as Perky Miss hopped on and off chairs, pasting big sparkly blue letters on the viewing glass partition overlooking the pool of the Marin YMCA.

S—P—L—A—S—

“Splaaaz?” PP asked as she plopped down next to DHBF.

“No, silly, it’s Splash. For Splash week,” she admonished, wrinkling her pert nose and shaking her head. Some people!

Grinning, PP glanced over at DHBF before continuing her interrogation. “What’s Splash Week?”
”The letters stand for:
S wim
P lay
L earn
A ss (okay, PP made this one up)
S ink (and that one too)
H elp “(With the previous two letters they were gonna need this last one.)

“That’s cool,” PP nodded. “I never woulda figured that out.”
“Me neither,” Pert One admitted. “I found it on the Internet.”
“Ah.” Of course, any and all information whether it’s important or not can be found on the Internet.

Pert One continued hopping up and down on the chairs next to the glass partition to position the letters just so, much to DHBF’s delight. Her pale long legs enticingly close to his merry eye. Of course, PP couldn’t blame him. She was right there after all. Even though she couldn’t have been more than 15. Well, maybe 17. Who can tell anymore? Everyone seemed about 12 to PP lately.

”It’s a week where EVERYONE gets to swim!” PO exclaimed, her big brown eyes shining behind her thick lenses.




PP was dubious about this prospect, but encouraged her to elaborate, “Everyone?”
“Yes. There’s a lot of people in this world, you’d be surprised, who never get the opportunity to swim or don’t have access to a pool where they can learn and so during this week before Easter, (PP wondered if there was some significance to this? Like Everyone was gonna be resurrected if they drowned?) the Y has SPLASH week and invites Everyone from the community to swim for free.”




This idea really scared PP. Imagine! Good thing the Oakland Y didn’t promote any such do-gooder program even if it was in the name of swimming!


Nodding, PP started to gather up her stuff so they could head out to their little cabin in Inverness for some rest and relaxation. Sorely needed after her busy week at Woo Woo U and the hectic swim she’d just survived at this Marin Y (Yes, Oblivious Swimmers and overcrowded lanes exist at this Y too. Seems the Y is not only an equal opportunity swim community for SPLASH week, but also an equal opportunity swim center for Clueless Lap Swimmers too!)

“Well, have fun during your Splash Week,” PP called out as they headed toward the front door.
PO shook her head, wrinkling her nose, and then sighed. “I suppose. It’s a lot of work though. But EVERYONE deserves a chance to Swim at least once in their lifetime, no matter what!” she exclaimed, prancing off to get some more tape or other adhesive material for the last “H”.

So, yes, she was a bit too pert for PP’s liking, but then again, she was cranky about the impending community event. This made PP like her better.

Oh, and she believed that EVERYONE deserved a chance to swim regardless of their life station.



While such Swimming Altruism seemed impossible, PP liked the sentiment. It was, as you all know, her own core belief too. Swimming cured all and was all.

So, she’d let the perkiness go…just this once. After all, it was for a good cause!