Jocularity

 “Enough with the jocularity! Let’s swim some laps!”

Perched on the deck, I glance over at Ian, who hasn’t had enough jocularity. He’s still grinning. Liv is floating over in the water in the lane next to No More Jocularity Woman. I can see Jocularity in Liv's eyes.

And, me? I’m delighted, but yes, ready to swim some laps.

How did we get to this point? Let’s go back 5 minutes.

I arrive on deck at Kennedy High Pool, eager to dive in. The water glimmers blue-grey in the mid-morning light. Each lane has at least one swimmer in it already, so I ask to share lane 2.

“Did you want to join me?” The swimmer stops, raising her goggles off her face, and smiles beatifically at me. This is unusual. Normally, swimmers will just keep swimming, maybe giving a nod of acknowledgment that you want to join their lane. But no one stops or interrupts their workout.

“Yes,” I smile at her as I try to stuff my too-long hair in my fuchsia cap.

“Come on in,” she invites. “The water’s fine.”

I dip my toe in. And she’s right. The water is fine. Warm and calm. Unlike the Plunge where the week before I shivered for 45 minutes before heaving my icicle self out of the pool and rushing for the lukewarm showers.

Today, Ian sits next to me, ready to dive into lane 3. Net Feet Man is his partner, who true to swimmer form, barely acknowledges Ian’s presence, but does move aside to let Ian swim.

“This pool is so beautiful!” my prospective lane mate exclaims.

“Have you not been here before?” I ask.

“Oh, yes, but not for a long time. I love the wooden beams and the light and....”

“Do you see the webbed-footed friends?” I point up at the opaque ceiling where the gulls have lighted. Their round shadows and cute webbed feet overhead. Their little shadows bounce and then settle, dark puddings above us.

“Oh, my! Isn’t that something!” she exclaims. “I’m glad you pointed that out.”

“Yes, sometimes they’re not here.”

“When the roof is open,” Ian contributes.

Liv is floating to the side, grinning ear to ear, enjoying the show.

“Well, I never!” my swim mate exclaims. “I usually go to the Plunge. I live in the Hood.”

I nod. Is the neighborhood by the Plunge referred to as “The Hood?” I think of the hood as someplace sinister and dark. Or at least in the Iron Triangle here in Richmond. The Plunge is in Point Richmond, a tony enclave of Richmond. I’d hardly call it The Hood.

            Today, I just nod, smile, as I start to put on my mask.

            The gulls above flap excitedly. Another group lands, creating many more pudgy shadows. We all laugh.

            “Well,” she says, “enough with the Jocularity. Time to swim some laps!” Pulling her goggles back on, she turns and starts a meandering pace down the lane.

            I nod at Ian, who’s still grinning. Liv has started down her lane too.

            Diving in, I can’t help but laugh. Jocularity is such a good word. And, yes, today, it’s a good place to dive into, here at Kennedy High Pool.