Collapses

Technically, this isn’t a pool story per se, but it’s a coming home from the pool story, so it counts. At least as far as PP is concerned and frankly that’s all that matters.

After an especially relaxing swim at the Oakland Y –own lane for a 1000 yards or so-- a definite rarity-- and then splitting the lane with the Beautiful Smiling T—more on her in another blog---PP hops, no actually she just sorta languidly slides into the overly warm Geo to make her way back up Broadway. She always pauses at the stop sign at Webster and 24th. Should she turn here and then make the turn on Broadway without the aid of the cute right hand turn arrow, or should she just mosey on up to the turn arrow and wait so she doesn’t have to think?

Today, she opts for not thinking.
Little did she know.

There they were. A Lovely Anxious Helping Woman holding her silver dashboard shield (later PP marvels at her ingenuity—what a wonderful idea to come up with in the middle of a crises—PP could never think so creatively and quickly, esp. given her usually spaced-out state, post swim) standing near the curb but still not outta traffic shading a Collapsed Chinese Man sitting on the hard hot asphalt. Damn. Wonder what happened?

Helping Woman sees the Geo approaching and steps outta the road enuf to wave her on to pass, which PP does, initially thinking she has help, but then sees the Collapsed Man sitting on the asphalt all hunkered over in his too hot black jacket and black pants and thinks to herself. That situation doesn’t look too good.

Heat exhaustion? Could that be what had led to his collapse? It was a warm day, but not as warm as it had been, but still, it was hot, particularly if you were wearing long black pants and a black jacket and black shoes and why the hell did some people wear so many clothes in the Heat? Could everyone be trying to protect themselves from the sun?

PP thinks not. It’s just elderly people. They were always cold. She got that.

So, because HW had waved her past, PP had pulled around them. But then sitting at the signal on Broadway, staring back at them in her rear view mirror,she thinks, Damn. What the hell are they doing just standing/sitting in the middle of the street on a blazing Hot first day of September at 3:30 in the afternoon in front of the Ford Dealership? (Afterwards, PP wonders why no one at the Dealership called 911, but more on that later.) So she swings a U turn and heads back to them, pulling in back of them and parking the Geo so no one will run them over, turning on her emergency flashers as a warning to other unsuspecting drivers.

Hops outta the car now, her former languidness completely dissipated. Another Good Samaritan, an Emerald Green Tank Top African America Woman was at the scene now, all business to PP. “I called 911,” she announced.
“Oh thank goodness,” PP exclaimed as she peered around the silver dashboard screen at the poor confused collapsed man, maybe 60? 70? Hell, PP can’t tell. And, yes, definitely overdressed for the day. Couldn’t they somehow get his jacket off at least?

But he doesn’t budge. Confused. Scared? In shock? He doesn’t speak nor look at any of them, but continues to sit kinda cross-legged, his head bent down, his heels propped into the asphalt. ‘It is so pity’ as one of her students from China would say.

“What happened?” PP asks Shielding Woman.
“I’m not sure. I just saw him lying here in the street so I parked my car and came over to help.” She angled the silver shield over him. “Thank God he’s sitting up now. When I got here, he was just lying here not moving at all. He didn’t look too good.”

PP thought how he still didn’t look too good as she glanced anxiously around. Should she go get someone at the car dealership to help? But then, African American Green Tank Top woman had called 911. For the second time in a week, PP wished she had a cell phone to call about Collapses on city streets. Yes, maybe it was time to join the 21st century, resister that she was.

“And his companion,” SW nods toward a slender Chinese man, elderly and gray, sitting on a bench in front of the dealership, staring anxiously over at the little group gathered around his friend. “He’s very worried. But their English isn’t so good. So, I don’t really know what happened.”
“Did you ask?” AAGTTW eyed the companion and SW dubiously.
”I did, but I don’t really think their English is good enough. I mean, they may understand English, but speaking it……” her voice trailed off as they all turned at once to the sound of the ambulance’s shrill siren.
“Wow!” PP exclaimed. “That was fast!”
The two other women nodded. “I hope they brought a translator,” SW murmured as the ambulance pulled up and out hopped two Movie Star Beauty Paramedics, the guy with muscles and tattoos, Brad Pitt watch out, the woman looking like a young butch Liz Taylor. PP thinks, Hell, maybe I better arrange a Collapse for myself on Their Shift for some much-needed resuscitation. Though then they’d probably just cart her off to Highland Hospital where there certainly were NO Movie Stars.

PP watched as they knelt down to help, immediately all business, ignoring the little group of helpers.
“Let’s see if we can get this off,” Butch Liz took charge right away, prying away his heavy hot jacket as Tattoo Brad Pitt reached into Collapsed Man’s pocket and retrieved his ID. Began asking his name. Address. Etc.

PP sighed. Thank goodness that help arrived so quickly as she got back into the Geo knowing she wasn’t needed any longer if in fact she ever was. But at least she felt like she had done something. Is this a theme lately? Seems so. And as she drove home, PP marveled at how three total strangers had come together to help another stranger in need here in Oakland, which has the reputation of a big, alienating urban war zone.

Yet, what was it about the human capacity for compassion? Strange is what it was. And here in Oakland, where you’d least expect it, it all happened so fast and naturally. Unlike SF when she had watched helplessly as all the Cell Phone business people walked around the poor homeless man, collapsed on Market Street in the middle of the afternoon rush.

Was it Oakland that had the compassion? Or just Kismet that these three women all converged together at this particular point on a Saturday afternoon? Later PP thought about how it had been all women, no men had stopped to help. Now of course, this could just be gender coincidence, but then again she had to think that women were just more helpful. They were raised this way, right? Frankly, PP hadn’t thought herself particularly compassionate, but then where the hell were the guys at the Ford Dealership? Didn’t they notice that an old Chinese Guy had collapsed in front of their dealership?

Maybe not. After all it was a Sat afternoon. Labor day. Big balloon sales. Busy busy busy selling selling selling. And this brought PP back to thinking about SF and the poor collapsed man there on Market ST. Everyone is so busy, making deals, talking a blue streak that they don’t even see the life or lack of it in their paths.

It was a sorry world sometimes.

Unless of course, you’re in downtown Oakland, on a certain Saturday afternoon, with Two other helping women, making a small hopeful difference in one poor man’s unfortunate collapse. (With a little help from the Stars, too, of course!)

Oh, Puhleeeze! Not another Bird Drama!

“At least it’s not trying to get in the hot tub anymore,” the Lovely I said philosophically.
JL nodded, concern worrying her brow. “But he’s drinking an awful lot of water. I’ve never seen a bird drink so much water.”
“And it’s got yucky chlorine in it,” the Lovely I tsk tsked. “Here, Birdie, have some good clean Berkeley organic water,” she floated across the tub and poured out a puddle next to the thirsty pigeon who of course ignored it.
PP sighed as she settled into her favorite corner of the hot tub. Bird drama. No more. She’d had enough after the little crow escapade which in the end had turned out all right, but still……
A thirsty pigeon? Maybe it was just thirsty? It was a hot day. Don’t pigeons deserve a drink too?
But yet……
PP turned around to watch its little brown head sucking up the yucky water. LI shaking her head. “Hey, bird. Drink the good water!”
And it did. Like it had heard her command and then hopped to.
It drank and drank and drank.
PP had to admit that it was drinking an awful lot of water.
JL moved up to the side of the tub and leaned on the edge watching in heavy bird concern. “I don’t know what to do. Lindsey won’t take pigeons. When I found my pigeon here, I called them and they said, no, not unless it’s a wild pigeon. And when I described it. White with a little pink on the wings. They said, nope that’s no wild pigeon. We can’t help. And when I told them there was a hawk circling overhead, they said, well if you leave it there, the hawk will get it and of course I couldn’t do that so I took it home and then to Liberty Wild. Did you hear that story LI?”
The Lovely I shook her head as she continued to coax the pigeon to drink her healthful water.
“This pigeon is brown,” PP offered. “Does that mean that they might take it? That it’s wild?”
“Oh, I never thought of that. Does their color show their wildness or tameness?” JL mused.
“I don’t think so,” the Lovely I offered. “I just think the color is like you know our eye color. Brown eyes or blue eyes.”
“Is it like race? Like the brown pigeons are a different pigeon race than the white ones?” PP asked to be silly.
“No,” JL answered very seriously. “I think I is right. It’s like eye color. Though there aren’t as many brown ones that’s for sure.”
PP nodded as she turned away from the drinking bird for a moment to soak in the tub and gaze at the group of pine trees blowing in front of her.
OH! There he goes!” JL exclaimed, excited and happy.
PP turned and yes, there he had gone, but not far. Only to the tarp covering to land there, a dark shadow now trying vainly to get up to the top of the tent like structure. But the shadow kept slipping down. Like he was drunk.
Oh, no. there was something wrong with him.
Damn!
Now what to do?
JL and the Lovely I climbed out of the tub and moseyed over to check out the progress. He’d hop up the slope and then slide back down then hop a bit more and then slide, but each time he did get a little higher till finally, he reached the metal bar pinnacle and perched there, resting.
Ok, PP thought. He must be ok to get to the top and then just hang out. If he were really sick, wouldn't he fall back down?
Shit.
PP decided she was gonna go take a shower and not get involved. She wasn’t in the mood to drive to Walnut Creek with a drunk pigeon. She wanted to go to Moe’s and listen to Al Young read poetry and then go up to O’s and have grilled cheese and watch the Marilyn Monroe Marathon on AMC.
Was she just a selfish bitch?

PP thought probably so, but then, if JL and The Lovely I wanted to somehow rescue the pigeon though lord knows how they were gonna get it now that it was atop the shade tarp thingee, well…..let em. She was gonna go partake of poetry and sex appeal.

But then, in the shower, PP felt a Pigeon Pang. What if a hawk came by and saw the poor little guy perched atop the tarp all forlorn and tired and drunk on pool water?
Could she sleep at night knowing that she’d left the poor little guy to such a fate?

She could not.
And of course, neither could JL and the Lovely I.
“We have to go check on the pigeon one more time before we leave!” JL had insisted, knowing that they were all going to do this anyway.
And they did. Clean and showered and spacey and hungry they ambled over to the far side of the pool to take a look.
No, he wasn’t on top of the tent tarp anymore.
Was this a good sign? Had he flown away?
Or….
Had he fallen down into the grass of the dark dense hedges that surrounded the hot tub area?
JL and the Lovely I started to peer around the surroundings. PP did too, but was hoping she didn’t see anything. And if she did?
Would she tell them?
Oh, of course she would. Marilyn Monroe could wait.
“I don’t see him, do you guys?” JL asked anxiously.
“No, I don’t see him,” the Lovely I shook her head.
“Me neither,” said PP. “But I’m hoping I won’t’ so I’m not looking very hard,” she joked.
They laughed but not very hard. It really wasn’t very funny. Bird Rescue. It was a very serious business and PP knew this but she just couldn’t help herself sometimes. It was only a bird after all. Not a human being.

PP suddenly shuddered to herself as she remembered the Homeless Man she’d seen lying comatose on Market St when she got off the BART on her way to work the other day. Everyone just sidestepping him. Talking on their cell phones, completely oblivious. How could this be? As she stopped to see if he were ok. And he wasn’t. This much she could tell. He was in really bad shape. Lying there on his side, his face
all scrunched up and purple and his jeans offa his ass and it was
awful.... it was so sad. She’d almost started crying...and so when she got to school, she tried calling the homeless advocacy agency in SF—but of course, could only leave a message--then social services who was a person, but then this person, a Harried Woman with a tired edge to her voice, just hooked PP up to their homeless issues division--another message---so PP had called back and HW was really bitchy and said well, if PP thought he was sick or dying they don't go pick people up off the streets. She needed to call 911.....

Stupid bitch why didn't she tell PP that in the first place?

But at least the 911 lady was nice and said they'd send a paramedic out
right away. Which made PP feel better, but.....will that help him? She didn’t know. It's all so sad and she felt so powerless. Here in the richest country in the world and this goes on. He’s a human being for crissakes!

Maybe this is why they tried to rescue birds. At least they could do Something. Even if it was just capturing the poor sick bird and taking it to the Lindsey Wildlife Rescue. At least it felt like solid help. Whereas with this poor man. Did the paramedics really come to help? And even if they did, then what? They’d probably throw him back out on the streets and the whole process would start again.

At least with the birds, if they get better, they fly away, right?

“He musta flown away then,” JL sighed in relief.
PP nodded, thinking how she wasn’t going to mention the Homeless Man. How it was just a silly pigeon they were so worried about.

But it was a life. And isn’t that what the real issue was here in both cases? Life is so precious, whether it’s a pigeon, a Homeless Bum or a Swimming Kitty.

“Can we go now? I’m really hungry all of a sudden.” The Lovely I sing songed softly, and she was right. It was time to go. Eat grilled cheese. Drink bubbly water.. Listen to poetry. Drool over Marilyn. Play with the cats.

.And the pigeon was fine, he had to be. Just like the Homeless Man. The paramedics came and helped him. Right?

PP shook her head as she stared up at the vast blue afternoon sky.
“I don’t see any Hawks.” JL proclaimed as they headed out of the Mills Pool Compound.
“Nope,” PP agreed.
And with a sigh of relief, PP turned and followed the Lovely I and JL outta the Aquatics Compound and out into the lovely summer evening where birds flew, Homeless Bums thrived, and Marilyn proved she was a girl's best friend.

SOLAR CRAZY

“So, I haven’t seen you guys around lately.” Handsome Hot Tub Guy stares at DHBF, and PP, interested, curious.
“Oh, yeah.” DHBF chuckles in his good-humored affable way. “That’s because she,” he points at PP who’s trying to sink down into the hiding bubbles, “hasn’t been coming much.”
”Oh….” HHG turns his stare at PP, who just smiles, making no comment. She’s just not in the mood to explain why she doesn’t come to Mills much anymore, esp. to HHG, whom she didn’t really know, even though he’d been swimming at Mills for years. You’d think that a year after surviving the Melanoma Scare, she’d be more blasé about it, but she’s not. So she just says nothing. HHG doesn’t really care about her anyway. He wanted to partake of some Guy Solar Business Chat.

BORING!


But then, to PP’s delight, the Large Blue Floral Woman who’d been soaking in the tub's corner pipes in, “MORE PEOPLE WOULD INSTALL SOLAR IF IT WASN’T FOR THE GODDAMN GOVERNMENT REGULATIONS! IT’S ALL BULLSHIT IF YOU DON’T MIND MY SAYING. BULLSHIT IS WHAT IT IS!” She harrumphs and frowns, sighs heavily and then glares at the two men. PP sinks back into her corner under her hat--this is so great! A solar crazy! How wonderful! Now we’re talking!

HHG stares at Bullshit Woman in friendly disbelief. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s part of why people don’t install solar, but for the average family it’s gonna cost upwards of what would you say?”

He glances over at DHBF who shrugs, “Depending on the size of the house and the amount of electricity they use it can generally run 30 to $40, 000….”

“YEAH! BUT HOW MUCH OF THAT IS FOR THE GODDAMN PERMITS? I mean, I live out in the El Dorado foothills, and we got around all the permit costs by installing our own system, but I know people who spend upwards of a couple thousand dollars just for the goddamn permits and then the rigmarole they have to go through to get their rebate from the state. It’s BULLSHIT!”

HHG laughs, “Yeah, well you’re right about that. The rebate system is pretty convoluted….

”I mean they have to make sure that they’ve installed the panels on the proper side of the house with…..”BW starts in, fire in her wet eyes.

DHBF interrupts her, “That’s because if they didn’t have those regulations then people would just be installing panels wherever just to get the rebates. People need to install them where they can get the optimum sun power.”
”Yeah,” HHG agrees, “that’s true, but wouldn’t people just be motivated to do that anyway? The better placement just leads to more power and thus bigger rebates? The rebates should just be on a strict….”

Here is where PP zones out a bit. All the technical jargon. Then the kilowatts. What the hell is a kilowatt anyway? In the past, when DHBF had been really into the Solar Thing, he’d start going on and on about the goddamn kilowatts till PP was ready to Kill a BF!

“AND LET ME TELL YOU GUYS ANOTHER THING!” BW interrupts, pointing her finger at them in energetic zeal. Maybe she’s bored with the kilowatt talk too? “The Shipyard? In Berkeley? You heard of them? Well, cuz of the city of Berkeley’s goddamn regulations, they got shut down. The city came in when they found out that the Shipyard, which if you don’t know is an artists’ community hooked up with Burning Man you heard of that I’m sure. It’s amazing the amount of energy they generate for that event. But anyway the Shipyard had this whole Solar Set-up with this self-sustaining energy-enhancing situation, and the city got all up in arms and went and raided the Shipyard and dumped out all the batteries there were tons of batteries being used for this situation, and I ask you? Where the hell did they dump all that battery acid?”
”That’s a good question,” HHG tries to intercede.
“And isn’t it worse to dump the goddamn battery acid wherever then to let the artists generate their own energy? I mean, granted, maybe they weren’t doing things strictly by the book….” BW chuckles conspiratorially.

"That’s just it,” HHG took advantage of her chuckle, opening the door a crack in her tirade, “you’ve got people messing around with electricity and you’ve got to regulate it somehow. It’s dangerous.”


“Yeah, DHBF tried to help his cause, “it’s not like they’re installing a pool.” PP laughs. Did he really say POOL or did she just imagine it? She thinks she probably imagined it, but hell, this is a pool blog, so such watery flights of imagination are allowed.

In any case, BW harrumphs mightily, spraying her indignation all over the tub, “Yeah, I know you’re right on one level, I just think that if the government or the city or whoever made the whole regulation process less expensive than it wouldn't be so prohibitive to install solar. Look at us!” she waves her arm expansively toward the sunny blue sky above. “In California. With all this sun! We should be completely powered by solar. There’s no excuse!” Pointing her finger more vigorously, she puffed up her cleavage, thrusting out her chin in Righteous Solar Indignation. BW was a force to be reckoned with.

“Yeah, but like we were saying, “ HHG is trying to talk to her reasonably like she’s a normal person instead of the El Dorado Solar Radical that she is. “It is expensive. The regulation fees are only like about 10% of the total cost which comes to ….”
DHBF jumps in. He’s the expert. “If it’s a $30, 000 system, then it’s even less really, usually no more than a couple thousand.”
More harrumphing. “THAT’S JUST MY POINT! IT SHOULD BE FREE!!!! I mean, sure people could still have regulations to follow and paper work to fill out, but they don’t need to charge them up the waazoo to install something that is so goddamn good for the planet!”

PP tries not to laugh as HHG and DHBF stare at her, both thinking of some response. But she’s not giving them an inch.
“AND SO, TO CONCLUDE MY WONDERFUL SPEECH,” BW smiles and gives a little bow, “I’d just like to add, and it seems like you guys know what you’re talking about and are behind me in this, but the government just needs to get rid of their BULLSHIT regulations and get behind the actual installing of solar on every unit in California before it’s too late!”

And with a final satisfied harrumph and dramatic point of the finger in their direction, BW heaved herself out of the tub and waddled away.

DHBF glanced over at PP who was doing the silent giggle in sheer delight. HHG shrugged, before stepping out of the tub, “Well, it was nice talking to you, kinda.”
DHBF chuckled, “Yeah, maybe next time we won’t have such a lively audience.”

Giggling, PP started out of the tub, but DHBF pulled her back, “Not so fast. What’s so funny?”
”Hey, lemme go, I wanna go take a shower at the same time as El Dorado Bullshit Woman.”
“Haven’t you done enough eavesdropping for one day?”
“Never!” PP giggled as she wriggled out of his grasp and hurried after the large blue flowered ass jiggling ahead of her.

A FREE GIFT

“Would you mind circle-swimming?”
Goggled-Crankster Woman glared at PP through her foggy mask, “I guess not,” she replied, all huffy.
PP gets this on one level. GCW had had her own lane a moment ago and now she was gonna hafta circle swim. Hell PP detested circle swimming too, but what to do on a Sunday afternoon at the Y? She glanced at the other lanes, all with at least two swimmers in each, and a couple with 3 or more, the lane next to GCW hosting a spastic Chinese family of 4 frolicking and having fun, can you imagine? in a lap lane. Their playing did remind PP of China and how no one swam laps in any way shape or form at the Dalian Natatorium. She smiled at the memory now. But then. Well, PP wrote a Book about That!

So, GCW was just gonna hafta deal with circle swimming. No way should she expect to get her own lane, esp. on crowded weekend day in the middle of the summer! GCW paused for a moment, eyeing PP and her dear friend, MC, whom PP had been trying to get to the Y for a couple weeks, telling her how warm and friendly and welcoming it was here, and now?

Well, what kind of welcome was this?
Damn.
Fortunately, MC was over at the steps wading into the water past the Frocklickin Family and didn’t catch GGW’s inhospitality.

Shrugging and trying to make her not feel quite so put upon, PP grinned, “You’re definitely the most Organized of the lanes!”
What the hell did this mean? PP wasn’t sure, but it came out of her mouth without any self-censoring, unusual for her, but not unprecedented. GCW gave PP one final glare before shaking her head and diving under water.
PP sighed under her breath, Bitch, she thought to herself as she smiled over at MC who’d managed to swim past the frolicking family.
“Sorry it’s so crowded and we hafta circle swim,” she apologized to MC.
“It’s ok, I’m just happy to be in the pool!” MC exclaimed and took off down the lane with an elegant sidestroke.

PP giggled. MC was right. It was good just to be here in the pool. Fuck GCW. Maybe they’d scare her off!

But this wasn’t to be as they continued to circle swim, PP passing both MC and GCW a couple of times before glancing over at the Family Frolicking Lane to note a serious confrontation going on between the Father of the Family and one of the Head Honcho Lifeguards. Much hand waving from the father, and much earnest explanation from the lifeguard. PP couldn’t tell what exactly was being said since she had her earplugs and cap on, but it looked pretty intense. Perhaps some Cultural Misunderstanding? This did seem likely as the father continued to gesticulate angrily--few words seemed to be being exchanged. Hell, was all this Emotional Wrongness for MC’s benefit? First, GCW and now Frazzled Father?

PP shook her head and headed back down the lane, speculating about how the lifeguard was telling him that they couldn’t play in the lap lanes, that they had a whole side of the pool designated for this family swim activity. But Dad wasn’t having any of it. He paid his dues. His family was swimming! Hell, they were even kinda swimming laps, something that PP had never witnessed in China. Not that the Oakland Y was China, though sometimes PP felt like it was when she was soaking in the hot tub surrounded by boisterous, giggling Chinese Ladies gossiping away in their native tongue.

But now Dad was pissed off-- Why the hell did they hafta go over there with all those noisy splashy obnoxious other families?

And PP thought. That’s what you get for having a family.
You get herded into the Family Section with all the other Obnoxious Ones.
What do you expect?
Have a family, swim in the family section. It was that simple.

Turning at the far wall, PP saw the two kids get out, all skinny and shivering and then mom and finally dad following, heaving himself up on the deck and sitting there staring morosely at the now empty lane.

PP grinned.
Cool. She and MC can snag that lane, but she better move fast!
And she did, diving under the lane line and then shouting for MC, “Hey M, over here! We can split this lane!”
MC nodded, dipping under the lane line and continuing her graceful kickboard kicking down the right side of the lane.
And GCW can have her own lane back, too, PP thought; for a moment she even considered thanking her for letting them share her lane. Hell, wait a minute, it wasn’t HER lane! The Y was all about sharing, remember? It’s one of those BIG values painted up on the wall. PP grinned when she saw another swimmer get into GCW’s lane. Hah! No OWN lane for you!

Finally! It was lovely now, swimming with MC. PP was so delighted to have a friend here with her at the Y. She’d missed the social aspect of swimming so much since having to give up her Mills Midday Routine cause of the stay out of the sun dictate from the dermatologist. Sure, she'd made a few "Hello, how're ya doin?" aquaintances here at the Y, but it wasn't the same. Maybe someday, as she watched MC kick- floating happily on her back down the right side of their lane.

Later, MC was relaxing in the Hot Tub, and commented on how much she liked the Y, swimming indoors was perfect for her. She didn’t really like the sun. It actually made her feel sick sometimes.
“You’re smart,” PP had nodded. “The sun is NOT your friend!”
”Not mine, anyway,” MC had agreed. “I get sick of having to put all that sunscreen on.” She wrinkled her pretty nose and shook her head and PP had to agree. It was super nice not having to worry about sunscreen here inside the Y.
“What’s MM up to this afternoon?” PP had asked, referring to MC’s BF.
“I dunno. When I left he was plopped in front of the TV watching some King Arthur and his Merry Knights marathon.”
”That is so weird,” PP had mused. “Staying in the house all day on such a beautiful afternoon.”
”Yeah, I think so too. And lord knows he doesn’t feel compelled to do anything around the house while he’s in it!”
They both giggled. It’s an ongoing issue for MC, PP knows, the slovenly BF. One of the many reasons PP lives alone. The only slovenly one is herself and this is rare.
“Yeah, I hear you!”
“I just sequester his Mess to the bedroom. Tell him he has to keep it confined there. The rest of the apartment is off limits.”
“But you hafta go into the bedroom every night to sleep, right?”
She nodded, “Yeah….it can get a little depressing.”
PP shook her head. Thinking about how her BF, though Dashingly Handsome, did have some housekeeping issues that she was glad to have no part of. Hence he had his own apartment and she didn't have to deal with the quarantining of the mess situation. This could get ugly real fast, as MC has chronicled over the years. What a relief that PP has her own place!

Now if only she could get the landlord to put in a pool!

“I’ve bout had it.” MC cracked up as she raised her legs out of the tub. “I’m a lobster.”
PP giggled, “Yeah, me too, let’s shower and call it a day.”
And they did. Shower. Call it a day.

On their way out they tried to talk to the harried clerk at the front desk about MC getting a free one week pass since PP had brought her in—PP waving the“BRING A FRIEND TO THE Y” card in the air.
“She hasta go on the Tour,” HC sighed as she tried to explain the free tour while checking in patrons. “And I’m the only one here, so I can’t take her on it.”
”That’s ok,” MC is so calm and agreeable, “Do you have any literature I can take with me to study? Then I can come back for the tour later?”
HC nodded, retrieved some literature and handed it across the counter.
”Thanks,” MC seemed excited. “Oh, literature!” she exclaimed as she shuffled quickly through it and then popped it in her swim bag.
“Yeah,” PP agreed, “It’d be so fun if you joined! Then I could have someone to swim with and I get a Free Special Gift if you join by Sept 15,” PP was reading the back of the the BRING A FRIEND TO THE Y little card with the above enticement.
“Wonder what your Free Gift could be?” MC mused.
“Dunno,” PP shrugged, thinking how most likely it’d be something really stupid like a stuffed yellow bear with a bright red YMCA sweatshirt on, or a workout water cup with blue YMCA embossed on it, or hell, it wouldn't be anything that good, PP was sure.

But from PP’s perspective, the Best Gift would be having her friend, MC, join the Y and swim with her every Sunday! Nothing could be more special than that.

Not even having your own lane and never having to circle swim!



Penguins Circle Swimming--take a lesson from the birds!

COURAGE

Ok, PP is all for the Y’s Values.

Respect.
Honesty.
Caring.
Responsibility.

And hell, she’s all about being sensitive to those who are Differently-Abled. Can’t imagine what it must be like to not be able to walk. Or see. Or hear. Or eat. Or whatever it is that’s ‘different.’

But. And this is something that’s always confused her.
When a D-A person is about ready to kill herself cuz everyone’s afraid to offer help. Is this really what respect for their Independence is all about?

Again, confusion reigns here surrounding this philosophy, but in this particular instance, PP had to say something. No one else was going to. Or for some reason, she was the designated Leader. Why the hell was that?

That’s also a weird thing. Why is it that one person in a group is the seen as the leader? But hell, that’s another blog.

This one is about the political incorrectness of offering to help a paralyzed 110-year-old tiny African American grandma outta her wheelchair and into the hot tub. (PP doesn’t know why she assumes she’s a grandma. Maybe she’s just thinking of grandmas today since it’s hers birthday—94! Happy Birthday, Gram!)

Let’s start at the beginning.
PP’s had survived an exhausting swim. They’ve all been so lately. It’s the summer rush pandemonium plus the wrong leaking mask and her sore neck. But on this particular Sunday, August 5th, she did manage to surmount all these obstacles and get her 2200 yards in.

So now, in the hot tub, she’s beat. Barely coherent. Close to heaterzied comatose. And so…..when she opens her eyes to behold Gram in her wheelchair, she’s hardly paying attention. Besides, there are lots of Y patrons in wheelchairs. And PP is always in AWE of them. How the hell do they do it? The one legged man swimming his 10 laps. The beautiful Chinese woman with dead legs wrapped in weird blue floatees swimming for an hour.

And now. Gram is trying to unhook her electric wheelchair from a pair of black flip-flops on the side of the hot tub. The other two women in the hot tub look pointedly away even though the flip-flops must belong to one of them. Of course, Gram can’t reach down to the floor and move them, so PP hops across the tub and moves them outta her way.

Gram cranks her chair forward relieved of its obstacle. PP goes back to her corner and watches in concern as Gram starts to painfully lift herself out of the now parked chair. Her legs completely immobile, so horribly swollen. They probably haven’t moved themselves in decades.

It was so worrisome. PP watched as Gram reached for the guardrail to the tub and barely managed to grab hold. And then to heave herself out of the chair, slowly, slowly, and drag her slight body into the tub, her dead weight legs dragging perilously on the wet slippery tiles surrounding the tub.
Damn.
Shouldn’t she have someone to help her?
PP glances over at the pretty Asian woman who’s eyeing the scary scene with wide fear. She’s thinking the same thing, but looking at PP to do something.
PP shakes her head slowly. What can she do? She glances over at the other woman in the tub, a middle aged white lady in navy Speedo who stares into space, ignoring the whole drama.
How can that be?
Some people.
But as Gram inches across the wet tiles and Pretty Asian Woman nods at PP more emphatically, her eyes the size of chocolate donuts, PP sighs deeply. Yeah, she knows. Don’t offer to help. It’s the independence protocol surrounding Differently- Abled Persons.

Or is it? Maybe it isn’t. Maybe an offer of help is the only sane thing to do. Who cares if Gram gets huffy? It’s better than falling and cracking her skull on the wet tiles.

Then....a little slip. But Gram catches herself. Stands steady for a moment on the first step into the tug.
PP can’t stand it anymore.
“DO you need some help?” she hops across the tub, hopefully.
Gram stares at her for a long silent moment.
“No.”
PP heard that tone. The one that says, you stupid walking person, I can do it myself. I don’t need anyone’s help. Esp. yours.

And she was right. She did make it into the tub. Sinking thankfully onto the underwater bench to face the whirling jets.

Sighing in relief, PP inches around her. Not saying anything else. To Gram. To the pretty wide-eyed Asian woman, who now, also looks visibly relieved.

But PP wonders. What if Gram had slipped? And she hadn’t offered to help?
Wouldn’t she have felt just awful? Isn't it better to step on someone’s toes, figuratively speaking of course, rather than watch in fear as the D-A person falls and cracks her head open?

PP thinks it is better to offer the help. No matter what. And if someone snarls at her. Or declines her help with pride and coldness?
Hell, that’s ok.
At least she knows she tried.
And isn’t that what the Y is all about?

RESPONSIBITY.
HONESTY
CARING.
AND YES, RESPECT.

Cuz without this last one, the other 3 are moot.
At least as far as PP is concerned.
And one tough old courageous 110-year-old Gram!

Elvis is Cheese!

“MEEEOW!!!” PP glanced up at the watery echo as she stopped at the wall to turn to behold the always fabulous Ms. CC grinning down at her from the deck.
“Hey!” PP smiled back in surprise. “You takin the day offa work?”
”Yup!”
“Cool! And here you are at the Pool!”
“Where else? I just flew back from my high school reunion down in LA and thought, hell, it’s only 5 o’clock. Plenty of time for a swim!”
“Well, c’mon in, Kitty, the water’s fine!” and with a happy splash, PP took off back down the lane, thinking how the hell is it that CC still looked so goddamn great in a bikini? It’s like time stood still for her. PP remembered when they were housemates together over in Piedmont by the Rose Garden and CC used to go down to the gardens to sun herself in her cute little bikinis. Yup. You can take the girl outta LA, but you can’t take the LA outta the girl. And CC sure proved it.
Damn!

Sighing happily underwater, PP smiled to herself. The pool. It brought everyone together. Even CC who was never a ‘swimmer’ was hooked now. The first thing she does when she gets off a plane is head for the pool.Yup. That was proof. She’d caught the Swimmer’s Addiction. Obsession. Bug. Whatever you wanna call it, CC had it. And that was good. At least as far as PP was concerned. And CC too, she was sure.

“How was your swim?” PP asked the Lovely I as she sank blissfully into the Hot Tub after leaving CC to her laps.
“IT was the Best! I mean it! It was the Best swim I’ve had in 2 and half years!”
“Wow! Too cool.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure why. When I first got in there was this kinda splashy guy but then he got out and this really smooth swimmer got in and I tell you it was better than having a lane to myself. She was so inspiring.” The Lovely I shook her head in wondrous amazement.
“Oh, I know what you mean,” PP agreed. “Sometimes, when I’m swimming with a really good swimmer in my lane it can really push me to swim harder.”
”No, it’s not that. I don’t know how to describe it exactly. It’s just that I had the best swim.”
PP nodded. She really did think she understood what the Lovely I meant. Swimming with someone who was a Splashing Monster really made the entire experience almost heinous, but on the other hand, if the person you were sharing a lane with was super smooth and sleek and expert, it put the entire lane into another realm. It was like you were both in this other higher water plane. It was Swimming Nirvana!

“And I must tell you how much I’m enjoying Elvis.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I watched King Creole and my friend who’s this librarian film archivist said that that was absolutely the best Elvis movie and I have to say, it really was good. After you wade thro all the Cheese. And let me tell you there’s layers and layers of Cheese. Elvis is so Cheese. But once you peel all that Cheese away, well, I just hafta say, Elvis….He was HOT!”


PP giggled. Of course, Elvis was Hot. And the Cheese? PP just loved this description. Cheese instead of Cheesy. Or Cheesecake. Or….



“And I just never got it before, you know? Like I was telling you about Marilyn Monroe how I had this epiphany when I was watching The Misfits and it hit me, damn, she was HOT! And I don’t know what it is. Maybe it just takes decades upon decades of experience to wade thro all the Cheese before you really see what’s under it.”
“I think I know what you mean,” PP nodded. “But to tell you the truth, I’ve always thought Marilyn Monroe was HOT and Elvis was Cheese!”
“Hee hee hee.”

Grinning, PP glanced over at the Slim Handsome Tatoo Guy whom JL had noticed years ago but had claimed he wasn’t her type. PP had thought and still did think, he was cute, but now she could tell that he was having a good time eavesdropping on the Lovely I’s Elvis Analysis.


PP smiled slowly as she watched SHTG slide out of the tub and amble lazily across the deck, stand at the edge of the deck and stretch sexy into the blue sky.

“Did you see that guy?” the Lovely I asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
“I think he liked our conversation.”
“Yeah, I think so." And who woulnd't? Elvis. Cheese. Marilyn. What’s not to like?

Watching him stretch PP grinned to herself.

No, he wasn’t Elvis.
And, no he definitely wasn’t Cheese.
And yeah, he might not be JL’s Type.

But Hell, he sure was HOT!

No denying that, as PP watched him give a final stretch, then glanced her way to give a sly smile before diving into the turquoisy golden afternoon pool.

Piano Time at the Y

“Hey! Is that Carol?” (PP’s real name outta the pool.) Damn, PP thought, someone is recognizing her on Broadway St. in front of the Y? How the hell could that be? Well, Oakland, for all it’s thousands of residents, actually was a small town. In an odd way. Though the times it had happened here at the Y, she was actually in the pool or the locker room.

Thank God she’d brushed her hair and teeth before heading to the Pool today. Sometimes she didn’t bother, esp. on a Sunday afternoon. It wasn’t like she was gonna run into anyone she knew.

Or so she thought.

Shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her hands, PP peered round the little tree shading her prime parking spot she’d scored as a smiling, handsome, dark young man came beaming toward her with a pretty blonde woman in tow.

Oh! It was DD, her mostly absent piano student. Thank goodness she recognized him, which really impressed her since she’s only met with him about 6 times in the last 6 months.

“Is that D?” PP called back, as she double-checked that the tow away signs didn’t apply to Sundays.
“Yeah. Hey what do you know? This is my wife, M. M this is my Piano Teacher. Wow!”
PP shook M’s hand, as she shifted her pool bag to the other arm. Her neck was killing her lately—-it was better today, but still the heft of the pool bag was starting to hurt.
“Nice to meet you, M. You guys belong to the Y?”
”Yeah, we do,” DD beamed. “Wow. It’s so cool to see you. We’ve been trying to get a hold of each other on the phone for days and now, well, here you are,” DD addressed his wife, who smiled in a forced sorta let’s get going way. Which was fine by PP. She didn’t really need to stand around chit chatting with her neck hurting. The hot tub was her main destination today.

“Well, who needs the phone when you have the Y!” PP joked, eliciting an amused guffaw from DD and a confused sigh from the wife.
“Yeah!” DD agreed, “Well, I guess we can just get started again in the fall on Tuesdays?”
”That’d be great,” PP nodded, trying to be professional even though she was on her way to work out. “Will Tuesdays work better for you?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he nodded, eyes shining.
“Good, cuz it’s hard to make much progress with only once a month.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just have to travel so much. But I’m still really liking Fur Elise. So I’ll just keep practicing on that and the other book….”
The wife did nothing to stifle a yawn.
“Great.” PP smiled as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll give you a call in Sept. You guys swim?”
“No,” DD shook his head. “I mean, sometimes I do in the mornings after my workout, but nah, we do weights and stuff.”
The wife headed up the stairs not entering the conversation whatsoever. Which was fine by PP. Though it was interesting to meet his wife. He was so cute and charming. Wonder what he saw in her? Oh she was cute, in a young blondey way, but personality- wise? Well, PP didn’t give her any Gold Stars.

“So see ya in Sept,” DD called out as he leapt up the stairs to catch up with M.
“Yeah, see you then. Enjoy Beethoven in the meantime!”
Turning and giving her a most charming grin, DD waved at her, “Oh yeah! You know I will!””
And with a final flounce of her ponytail, M opened the door as DD followed her into the dark cavern of the Y to do some weights and thankfully, stay out of the pool! The fewer non-swimmers, the better. PP just hoped she wouldn't see M in the hot tub, but if she did?

Hell, PP grinned as she helped herself to a couple of towels from the check-in desk, she'd just quiz M about how to do weights. Bring her out of her shell. Get some Muscle Mass tips. Oh, and try to find out just what the hell DD saw in her!

FROM THE BLIND MAN TO THE GRIM REAPER

“TALK TO ME! TALK TO ME! BLIND MAN COMIN THROUGH! You can see me! You can hear me! I
can’t see you. But I can hear you. TALK TO ME!!!! COMIN THROUGH!!!

PP watched in astonishment as indeed, the Blind Man, a Majestic African American Man in his 50’s? 60’s?, dressed dapperly in white slacks, black dress shirt and dark glasses, came barreling through the Y. Down two flights of stairs, his blind man’s white stick clacking at the rails, then down to the bottom, turning the corner, and careening dangerously close to a frightened woman trying to read about the Y’s upcoming photo shoot of YMCA members on Aug. 15.

Blind Man continued to holler, narrowly missing Sign Reading Woman, her eyes wide with fear, as PP followed behind, grinning. Of course it wasn’t really funny. But yet, it was. Catching SRW’s eye, they both giggled.

PP smiled and sighed. Maybe it was a good thing to get out of the house. No such adventures were gonna happen to her lying round in bed, feeling like a tired, bluesy lump. It was so much better to come to the YMCA and realize just how easy her life was. Hell, she wasn’t blind! Nor had she been run over by the blind man. Both good things. PP just hoped he wasn’t headed for the pool.

Now that would be an adventure.

Fortunately, no sight of him in the water. But lots of other sights abounded. Of course there were the usual suspects: The Swimming Hemophiliac got the lifeguards to give him his own lane by taking one away from the stupid rec. swim kiddies. PP liked this. The Various Chinese Lady Swimmers with their shower caps and spastic exercises. The laid-back African American Woman sharing PP’s lane, her big fins barely helping her to get across the pool.

Then the not so usual ones--today there was the group of Retards. Ok, PP knows they’re not called retards anymore, or MR’s or any such other derogatory label, what are they called? Developmentally Disabled? Ummm….rolls right off the tongue, doesn’t it? Anyway the DD Swimmers ambled in, standing around the deck, leaning against the dingy walls, confused and frowning, numbering round 5 or 6, till their leader, an Authoritative Young African American Counselor Type, was able to procure them some pool space.

And of course, after jumping in, IT was instantaneous. The frowns disappeared. The laughter erupted. The Power of the Pool! It brought joy to everyone! Even the DD Swimmers? And why not? They deserved pool time as much as anyone else. Even the blind man, PP was certain, could have swam here at the Y. But frankly, she was glad that the Blind Man wasn’t swimming with the DD Swimmers. Though this mighta made an excellent story, it certainly woulda been too much pandemonium, esp. for PP today.

Because today, yes, the Pool was too much for her. While she enjoyed the euphoria of the DD S, she also was feeling like some CALM might have been more therapeutic. But their rapture was contagious, and PP had to grin as she watched them splashing and laughing as one of them, an enormous white guy with big splotches on his back of pink and brown, tried unsuccessfully to use a kickboard. The others gathered around, trying to show him, while their leader held up a kickboard and demonstrated on the deck, but of course he couldn’t kick. This, PP had to admit, musta been confusing for this group, and she thought for a moment, but only for a moment, of going over and demonstrating for them. But then decided, no, it was too much. She didn’t want to excite or confuse them anymore than they already were.

Then a momentary Y miracle-- PP had her own lane, but this too, was fleeting. Flailing Chinese Woman got in cuz of the swimming hemophiliac’s lane hogging. She was nice enough, grinning and trying to stay on her side, but she just couldn’t. Just kept zigzagging slowly and spastically down the middle of the lane. Every time PP wanted to swim past her, it was a delicate process, of slowing down, looking both ways underwater, (so as to not touch SH) and then blazing past her. Finally FCW got out and once again, PP was in her own lane.

Happy happy happy.

But then, damn! What the hell was that? PP stopped mid lap as a wake of white water hit her in the face. Glancing behind her, she spied the Splash Culprit who’d almost mowed her down, plow to the other side and do a fancy splashy flip turn.

Oh, One of Those!

And he hadn’t even bothered to tell her he was joining her lane?

Yes, ONE OF THOSE!!!

PP was almost done in more ways than one. Pausing at the wall, One of Those Swimmer stopped for a moment to adjust his goggles. PP glanced down at his tattooed arm. Hell, was that the Grim Reaper?




She started to grin. Leave it to PP to have the Grim Reaper join her lane. And when he saw her laughing, he smiled. Handsome, young, long eye lashes gazing thro the water drops. PP couldn’t help herself. Had to ask, “Is that the Grim Reaper on your arm?”

Nodding, he beamed. “Yeah, it’s not finished yet though.” And then he dove off in a splashy hurry. PP shook her head. Who the hell would tattoo the Grim Reaper on his arm? (For of course, it would be a guy. Somehow PP couldn’t imagine a woman having such a tattoo.) And then what about it wasn’t finished? Like was he gonna color the scythe blood red? Or give the cape and figure a darker hue?

Like it wasn’t enough that the Grim Reaper was already easily recognizable?

PP glanced up at the cute young, blonde lifeguard trying to find a lane for Confused Dark-Curls Swimmer. “Here,” PP called up to them, “you can have my lane. But watch out, That Guy has the Grim Reaper on his arm!”
Blonde Lifeguard looked suitably stricken. “What do you mean? Like he has it tattooed on his arm?”
PP nodded. “Yeah.”
“Whew. I thought maybe you meant that he had a Killer Stroke!”
PP cracked up. “NO, but yeah, now that you mention it, I do think they’re connected!”

D-C Swimmer watched fearfully as the Grim Reaper Swimmer turned at the far wall and started a splashy swim back their way.
“I think I’ll go over here,” she pointed to the lane furthest away from him as PP gathered up her fins, water and mask.
“Yeah, good call,” PP giggled as the GRS made another flip turn, splashing his wrath all over them.

Making her way into the Locker room, PP suddenly heard a booming voice, “TALK TO ME! TALK TO ME! BLIND MAN COMING IN!”

Laughing, she hoped he’d find the Grim Reaper. Why she was sure the Blind Man would be able to contend with the Grim Reaper by just bopping him with his cane. Esp. since he wasn’t finished yet….

Or....

Actually, PP just made that last part up about the Blind Man, but she had you goin there for a minute, yes?

Hee heee heee!

So when next you visit the pool, especially, the Oakland Y, beware the Hollering Blind Man and heads up for the Grim Reaper Swimmer! But if it’s adventure you want, head on over. Though do be sure to keep your ears, eyes and arms safe—you never know what Evil lurks in the halls or under the water at the YMCA!

THE LOVELY I’S BIRTHDAY AT THE POOL (and the Little Farm!)

“When is your birthday exactly?” PP had asked the Lovely I at her 'Early Birthday Party’, which is its own story, and actually does have some pool connections, but…..PP’s gonna save it for another blog and focus on this birthday!
“Monday!” the Lovely I exclaimed. “Wanna go to the pool?”
”Of course!” PP grinned. Where else would any of us want to be for our birthdays but the pool?
“…and the Little Animal Farm?” LI asked hopefully.
“The Little Animal Farm? Where’s that?”
“Up at Tilden. It’s a funny thing but every year it seems that I find myself up at the little animal farm to feed the goats. It’s kinda become a tradition.”
“What a wonderful tradition. I’ve don’t think I’ve been to the Little Animal Farm to feed the goats. Of course; let’s go there before the pool!”
“Perfect,” the Lovely I beamed.
So, it was a plan for her birthday. Naturally, PP was a part of since it involved the Pool. First the Little Animal Farm. Then the Pool. Who could ask for a better birthday?

“Hey, what’s that hanging from the goat’s neck?” LI’s GF exclaimed. “It looks like hanging nipples. Why that would give a whole new meaning to ‘necking’!”
PP and Lovely I cracked up. It was true. The goat did have these hanging thingies on its neck. Though PP thought they looked more like little furry elongated teardrops than tits. But the teat image was good for a chuckle---one of many provided by LI’s GF.
“And look at that One’s penis. Or is that another teat?”
“I think they’re all girls,” the Lovely I admonished as she took off another stalk of celery to feed to the chomping goats.
“No….that definitely looks like a penis.” GF walked around to get a better look, as PP and LI followed her dubiously.
“I still think they’re all girls and that’s not a penis.”
“Maybe he/she’s a tranee…” GF giggled. “The goats are having gender identity issues.”
They all cracked up again. The Lovely I’s GF was just too funny.

PP was delighted by the Little Animal Farm up here in the Oakland Hills. It really was a little farm, complete with a little barn, little hay stacks, a little grassy fenced in meadow for the black rams (more on these guys later) , the goats in their little pen, the cows and their little baby calves, the chickens and geese, and most astonishing of all, a GIANT sow ready to birth her little piglets any moment.
“Hey!” The Lovely I exclaimed, reading the signage on the pig’s pen, “she’s due to have her piglets today, July 17.”
“Your birthday! Today!” Necking GF enthused.
“Wow! Wouldn’t it be super cool if she had her piglets on your birthday?” PP asked.
“Oh yeah,” Lovely I agreed as she gazed over at the monstrous sow heaving asleep in the noonday breeze. “She really looks like she’s ready to have ‘em. It almost makes me wanna come up here everyday to see them!”
“Too bad her shit smells so bad,” NGF wrinkled her nose as they all head up to look at the baby calf.



“I hope the baby gets hungry and has to nurse,” LI ambled over to gaze at the enormous mama cow and her calf, who was hiding shyly in the shade out of her view. They all gathered round for while. Staring at the cows. Neither animal cooperating. Mama Cow just twitched her tail and bit her haunch to get rid of the flies. The baby just lying there, makin no move to go get some lunch.
“I wonder if she can feed herself?” NGF pondered as they watched the Mama Cow reach back to bite her backside.
“Wouldn’t that be redundant?” LI counterd. “I mean, wouldn’t that just be recycling her sustenance?”
“But then she’d be her own food source. Completely independent!” NGF proclaimed, as they continued to watch Mama Cow working her itch.
PP thought how funny it all was. Here at the little animal farm with the LI and her NGF. She needed more of this sort of animal time, esp. with this pair. They’re so funny and sincere. Just like the animals.
“I wanna walk up and see the black sheep,” the Lovely I announced, giving up on the baby calf doing anything interesting.
“Yes. Let’s!” NGF hooked her arm through the Lovely I’s as they meandered up the hill to check out the rams.


“BBBBBAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!” the rams called out, one ambling over to check out PP.
“Wow! All the animals just come right up to you!” NGF exclaimed.
PP scratched the ram on his wooly side. He’s so cute and vocal.
“BBBBAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”
“Yeah, animals like me,” PP murmured, thinking how it’s always been so. Next to the pool, animals are her true love. When she was a kid, she wanted to be a vet, but then reconsidered once she got to college and found out how much math and science such a profession entailed. Plus, she knew she didn’t really have a tough enough heart for the sad moments of putting animals down when they were old or sick. So she’d given up this girlhood dream to be a vet to become a writer instead. Which was less heart wrenching, but only sometimes.
“BBBAAAAGHHHH!!!”
The all giggled. “I’ve never heard them make that noise before!” The Lovely I exclaimed.
“Yeah, they really like you, Swimming Kitty,” NGF agreed.
PP liked the rams too. They were so fuzzy and black and weird with their curly horns and vocal talkings. Wonder what the hell they’re saying?
“Wish we could take them to the pool with us!” PP mused.
“Ha! Wouldn’t that be fun!” NGF agreed.
“Yeah, I bet they’d float really well,” LI added in.
“BBBBBBAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!”
Obviously the Ram agreed, but sadly they had to go to the Pool without him even though PP found it very tempting to try popping him in the Geo and carting him baaaahing down the hill to Mills!


“The Little Animal Farm was so fun!” PP said, as they pulled into the Mills parking lot and collected their swimming gear.
“Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I can totally see why it’s become a tradition on your birthday. Do you think you’ll go back this week to see if the Sow has her piglets?”
”I’d like to. We’ll see.”
PP shuffled her stuffs around, placing the Hello Kitty Kickboard on top of her pool bag. “She’s so cute,” PP smiled as she gazed down at Hello Kitty.
“Hey!” The Lovely I exclaimed, “Is she giving the ‘Thumb’s Up?”
PP held the board up to examine it more closely and yes, Hello Kitty did have a sly little thumbs up.
“You’re right! She is! Wow! How cool. Now whenever I feel like I can’t swim anymore laps, I can just glance down at her and see Hello Kitty cheering me on with her thumbs up.”
“Hee hee heee…” LI giggled as they headed into the pool.

The late afternoon light shimmered like diamonds on the luscious blue water as PP finished up her laps, her warm down with Hello Kitty under her outstretched arms. It’d been such a lovely day. The animals. The pool. The swim.

She glanced down at Hello Kitty, bobbing swiftly under the water’s surface, and spied that sly ‘thumbs up’ and grinned.
Leave it to the Lovely I to spot Hello Kitty’s Thumb’s Up.
And leave it to PP to write about it!

Thumbs up and Happy Birthday, Lovely I from Swimming Kitty, the goats, the cows, the pregnant pig, but most of all THE POOL!

WHO NEEDS LANGUAGE?

“You……swim…..verry…..well….” Compliment Hot Tub Lady smiles shyly over at PP, blinking and nodding.
PP grins, thanks her. CHTL has no clue what PP has just said—PP’s not sure where she’s from. China? Korea? Japan? Damn. You’d think it’d be easier to tell, but just like when PP was in China teaching, and her colleague, who was 20 years PP’s junior and a brunette rather than a blonde had team taught a class, everyone in the class thought the two of them were twins.
All Westerners look alike to Asians.
And all Asians look alike to Westerners?
Oh well, everyone at the Y today is good humored about it.
“Where are you from?” PP continues gently.
CHTL nods, smiles….”Korea.”
”Ah…..how do you say ‘Pool’ in Korean?”
CHTL continues to smile and nod at PP. Obviously she has no idea what PP’s saying.
“IN THE KOREAN LANGUAGE….. “Another woman, of Asian descent tries to help out. “HOW DO YOU SAY POOL?”
CHTL continues to smile, then glances over at her friend who’s been silently taking it all in. “First time.” CHTL points to her friend.
“Ah…,” all exclaim. “How lovely.” PP smiles. It is. Today. She’d gotten her own lane. Something that rarely happens, esp. on a Saturday afternoon. Initially she’d thought it was gonna be the circle swim lapping from hell. She’d split the lane with Mask Shower Cap woman, who with all her accoutrements looked like an Inspector for a Nuclear Power Plant in Iraq. With her clear shower cap covering her head. Her huge mask and snorkel covering her entire face. It was hard to tell what was underneath it all. But she’d been nice enough when PP asked if she could split the lane. Then Super Swimmer had gotten in. Young. Fit. Young. Young. Fast. Okay, you get the picture. Even when Nuclear Inspector Woman put on her Big Fins, SS outpaced both of them. It was a circle swim nightmare. But then, the lane next door opened up and PP gleefully dove into it. With each lap her breathing becoming easier. Was it possible that she’d get an entire lane to herself?

Swimming Heaven. That’s what your own lane is!

And it was. Heaven. Why PP’s Stupid Mask didn’t even leak very much. And when she paused at the end of her first 1000 yards, and noticed Nuclear Inspector Woman climbing out of the pool, taking off her mask apparatus to reveal a striking African American Princess, PP grinned.

Sometimes, the Y was so delightfully surprising. But then so was Oakland. That’s a part of why she’s lived here for so long. The surprise. The diversity. (PP hates that word—it’s so overused now), but it’s true, she thought as the Hot Tub conversation continued in its stilted hilarity.

“You…..swim……” CHTL paused, glancing over at her friend who was now blissfully ignoring the whole conversation. “…..1…” she held up one finger. “Hour?”

PP nodded. “Yes. I swim for 1 (also holding up one finger) hour. Do you?” PP had noticed the two friends in the Lap/Swim lane walking, hopping, and doing spastic moves with the noodles. It was a form of water exercise. Not PP’s variety. But still. It was in the Pool and it was therapeutic. PP could tell from their serious faces while in the pool and their contented smiles now in the Hot Tub.
CHTL blushed. “Yes. 1 hour.”

Now, they all smile at each other. “How do you say ‘How are you in Korean?” PP asks. More blank stares. Then Helpful Woman volunteers an idea. They all nod and smile. PP has no clue what they’re saying. She doesn’t know Korean, obviously, or Chinese, which is evidently where the Helpful Woman is from. So PP tries out her one phrase of Chinese, “Ni Hao Ma?” is Chinese for how are you, right?”
She frowns, shakes her head. “No. that is Mandarin.”
”Oh….” PP shrugs. She thought Mandarin was Chinese. Evidently she was mistaken. “How do you say it in Chinese?”
”You mean in Cantonese?”
“Yeah…”
Helpful Asian woman rattles off a phrase. PP doesn’t catch even one syllable of it. But the Korean women smile and nod. They know Cantonese? Maybe Cantonese and Korean are similar?

PP doesn’t think so, but no matter. They are all communicating even without the same language. It’s the language of the water. They’re all blissed out in the bubbly water after their hour swims. Relaxed. Content. Those endorphins doing their job. PP still surprises herself about what a difference swimming makes to her State of Being. She can be totally cranky, emotional, depressed and then she goes swimming. And Voila! She’s blissed out.
It’s a miracle. Really it is.

And she knows this is a common theme that she’s written about before, but she keeps coming back to the Miracle of Swimming. And thinks, who the hell needs Language when you’ve got swimming?

“Bye Bye” she calls out to the gang in the Hot Tub. “That’s English for good-bye.”
They all giggle and wave as PP languidly makes her way outta the Hot Tub and heads for the Sauna, relishing in the lack of language that can make swimming such a restorative respite from her workaday langaugy world!

Vichy Springs Finale

“Goddamnit!” PP cursed under her breath. “Are those the gleeful shrieks of children frolicking in MY POOL???!!!”
Shit. And it was her last day, her last swim at Her Vichy Springs Pool.
HOW DARE THEY ALLOW CHILDREN IN HER POOL ON HER LAST DAY!!!

Yet even PP had to admit that she’d been lucky so far to have escaped this scourge of summer. Children in her pools! Esp. here at Vichy Springs. Hell, why would anyone bring their kids here? What was there for kids to do here? No T.V, no computers, no video games.

But hell, there sure was a terrific pool.

So, of course, if there were kids here, that’s where they’d be. At her pool. (Has she said that enough times? But it had felt like her pool so far. Why Oooh Why couldn’t the little Demons have waited one more day before diving in with their shrill obnoxiousness? Was that so much to ask?)

PP didn’t think so, but no one was asking her. Esp. the kids.

Trying not to cry, or scream, or run away, PP made her way toward the pool in anti- child trepidation. She just wanted to get in one last swim before they had to check out at 12 noon. Maybe the kids wouldn’t be so bad, she tried to console herself.

Or maybe she could just drown them.

PP laughed to herself as she opened the white picket gate and caught her first glimpse of the doomed culprits. Two little girls, maybe 7 or 8 years old, jumping and screaming in the water, with mom on the cell phone and bored big sister picking her toes lazily on one of the lounge chairs.

Damn, PP thought, a whole family group. Is that redundant? Aren’t families always groups? Well, maybe some are more group-like than others. Ok, whatever. The main thing is to just get in the water herself and make sure the little girls stay the hell outta her way.

And they did, of course, even though they were eager to tell PP all about it. “IT’s COLD!!!” one of them hollered at her. PP nodded, trying for a smile under her mask. At least they know the first topic of pool conversation. The water temperature. “You won’t like it!” her sister yelled in confirmation.

PP nodded, “Yeah, I know it’s cold. But I bet I can do it.”
The two girls stared at her a moment in utter confusion. She speaks? Then one of them splashed the other, diving under to pull her down below the turquoise surface,
Great, PP thought, they can drown each other as she dove into the coldness.

But, Damn, they were right. It was cold. Well, maybe it’s for the best today since they had to leave in just over an hour. The noon checkout was looming over PP’s watery workout. Why couldn’t they just stay one more day?

Well, 185 bucks a night pretty much sealed the deal. One day was all they could afford for now. And PP had to admit, it’d been a very good swimming resort, even with the little girls. Stopping to turn at the wall, she spied through her foggy mask one of them out of the water up on the deck trying on PP’s new Zoomer fins.

Goddmamnit. Those kids better not hurt her fins! But as she watched them try to walk on the deck, the fins flopping hopelessly too big on their dear little feet, DHBF got up from the lounge chair and said something to them. PP could just hear him—“You girls really shouldn’t be playing with those. They don’t belong to you or the pool. They belong to HER!”

The fins came off fast. Then more diving into the deep end and more shrieking at the cold, one sister’s little teeth were actually chattering when PP glanced up to make sure she didn’t run ‘em over.
“Hey!” PP called out, pointing, “Your teeth are chattering! You better get out before you turn into an ICE CUBE!!!”
Chattering Teeth Sister giggled, shaking her head, before diving back underwater, her sister hot on her trail.


II

“They’re pretty Draconian about it,” Indignant Family Man shook his head as PP, outta the icy pool now, tried to get warm in the Hot Tub. “…..making us check out at exactly 12 noon. When we asked if we could stay a little longer, till say 1 or 2 so she can swim,” he pointed to yet another child, this one quietly staring at a lizard on the side of the tub, “...they said we’d have to pay an extra fee. Can you believe That?”

DHBF started in, playing Devil’s Advocate. His favorite pastime. “Actually, I think they’re not so bad. I mean, they do let us stay till noon. A lot of places make you get out at 11.”
“I just think for 256 bucks a night, they could be a little more lenient ‘bout the check out time,” IFM sighed heavily as his mother, the slight German frau, 84 years old, smiled in blissful unconcern.
“Daddy, can I go in the pool now?” Lizard Watching Daughter whined.
PP thought, yeah, sure, go for it kid, now that I’m out of the pool and could use a little peace and quiet in the hot tub before hitting the road back to the stupid Bay Area.
“Sure, Sugar Mouse, let’s go swimming before they charge us another 100 bucks for being 20 minutes over their check out time.”
PP thought how nice the Vichy Springs Staff had been to them the day before. Letting them use the pool before check in time and not charging them. She decided not to say anything about this to IFM. He was bitter enough. No sense in fanning the flame.
Sugar Mouse jumped out and began whining for her flip-flops, her towel, her soda. German Gram shook her head, the child was so spoiled. “Don’t make your Daddy go and get all of those things for you, Barbara.”
“Nah, it’s ok. She’s on vacation.”
GG sighed and glanced over at PP and DHBF who was now engaged in talking to the two little girls who’d been PP’s Shrieking Buddies in the Cold Pool. “Are you two Twins?” he asked, playfully.
“Yeah…..my name is Liz and her name is Grace.”
“Oh, and was it you, Liz that was looking at the Lizard over at the pool?”
Liz nodded seriously. DHBF glanced over at Grace, “Too bad they don’t have one called a Graceard….”
Grace stared at him. Completely stupefied. What the hell was the Nice Man talking about? Of course they were called Lizards and not Graceards! Silly Man!
“What time is it, Honey?” PP asked from under her visor as she glanced up at the noontime sun. It must be almost Time.
“Oh,whoops! Yeah, it’s almost 11:45,we gotta get goin, don’t we?”
“Yup, ‘fraid so….”
PP sighed. Here was her old nemesis, TIME, to take her away from her Pool Paradise…
Damn!

But yet, she really couldn’t complain. It had been a lovely visit to Vichy Springs.

Sighing happily, PP picked up her cap, mask and water and headed back to their cozy little room. She knew that this was the end of this Vichy Springs Chapter, but of course, there’d be a Sequel, complete with serene solitary swims, serious swimmer discoveries, and yes, even delightfully obnoxious little girls. For after all, PP was once one herself, claiming whatever pool was in the vicinity for her own play.

It had started early, her Pool Obsession, with no end in sight-—Thank Heavens for Little Girls! PP sang to herself as she meandered back across the lush green lawn, the shrill shrieks of children echoing softly behind her.

Vichy Springs Pool –Swim Number Two!

After their exciting waterfall hike where many wildlife sightings had surprised and delighted them, (a mommy pheasant mewing, really! Mewmewmewmew….to distract them from her babies according to DHBF; a sweet little frog that let DHBF take his or was it a her? how can you tell with frogs? picture; several shy deer grazing on the dry grasses; and a SNAKE!!! which elicited a suitably horrified shriek from PP—DHBF running to her rescue but not actually participating in the snake sighting since he’d finally gotten the perfect frog pose so the snake was gone before he got there. ‘Was it a rattlesnake? ‘ he’d asked, all concern and worry. ‘Nah, just a garner snake….Or was it a Gardner Snake? What are those snakes called anyway? It was one of Those.’ PP was just glad that she hadn’t stepped on it.), PP and DHBF really needed another delicious cool swim in the Vichy Springs Pool!

Back in their tidy little room, PP couldn’t wait as she hurriedly put on her suit and skipped across the lush lawn to the pool, shady and inviting in the late afternoon sun.

And miraculously, No One was swimming!!! There was one floral suited swimmer lounging on her belly that offered to take their picture together, but PP just wanted Her Picture taken at Her Pool as she posed in many sexy funny Esther Williams frames. (Hey, wonder if Esther Williams had swam in this pool? Bet so PP thought as she slowly inched in to its cool delectability.)

Shivering slightly, PP dove in again for the second time that day, the water folding over her in cool rippling blueness. PP even did some backstroke to gaze at the oak trees, circling hawks, and hot hazy sky. Yet also to give her eyes a break from the mask and the chlorine. (Though the VSP seemed to have less chlorine. Of course, it was a resort and there were no kids. At least so far.)

DHBF dove in too. At least PP thinks he did. She was so deliciously self- absorbed in her perfect pool world that she wasn’t really paying attention to anyone or anything till Polka Dot Suit Woman showed up with her alarm clock. This was really funny, PP thought to herself. What’s she doing with her alarm clock at the pool? PP continued to swim on her back so she could spy. PDSW pulled one of the chairs over to the side of the pool and set the alarm clock on it. Then stretching her full white arms in the sun, prepared to enter the pool.

Ah….PP thought. A Serious Swimmer. She’s timing herself and has brought her own clock since there’s not one at the pool. PP hadn’t even noticed this. Time had disappeared for her when she was swimming in this Pool, which was odd now that she thought about it. She was always so obsessed about time. How long she swam. (Usually 45 minutes, sometimes 50) What time it was. (Is it after 4? Can she go outside now?) Or when she had to be somewhere? (The BART is leaving at 2:49 and it’s 2:34, she’ll never make it!)

Time is such a curse in our world. Or at least in PP’s world. It would be so much more relaxing if it would just go away! And maybe this was another magical value of the Vichy Springs Pool—-Time Vanished. It became all underwater and liquid and inconsequential.

At least till her tummy growled and her head started swimming. Food. She couldn’t ignore her body’s annoying need for sustenance. Damn. Wasn’t the pool enough to sustain her?

Evidently not as PP was forced to abandon her pool, and leave it to Polka Dot Woman, who of course, was happy to have The Pool all to herself for her timed swim. Who wouldn’t?

Clock or no clock, the Vichy Springs Pool was a world onto itself, and if that sounds corny, well, then Hell, you just don’t know anything about the Je Ne Sais Quoi of Pools!
(Thanks to the Lovely I for this perfect description of the Vichy Springs Pool—)

Now, if only PP could capture this feeling of timelessness in her every day world? But how?

Closing her eyes, and imagining this pool might help. At least until Time intruded as it always does. Damn! What’s a PP to do?

Grab a cookie and head for the pool, what else? Grinning, to herself, PP thought this was the answer. At least for the time being.

~to be continued~

The Vichy Pool At Last!

“It’s $40 a piece for day use…..” Dashingly Handsome Boyfriend gave PP that, sorry, doesn’t look good expression as he hung up the phone in the stuffy little Economy Inn Room.
PP really needed to do something good this day, esp. after her 20 scream shower at the Economy Inn when the hot water had suddenly disappeared.
“How many times do you think you said, ‘Fuck’?” DHBF had asked as they sat sipping their coffees under a tree in the Ukiah Town Center Park, later that morning.
“I dunno…..maybe 20.”
“Ummm…. Yeah…that sounds 'bout right,” he agreed.
PP glared at him.
“Not that you weren’t justified…..”

PP sighed. She really wanted to go to the Vichy Springs Pool. She’d wanted to since she had first spied it six months ago on another trip down from Eureka, but back then in January, it’d been too damn cold here in Ukiah. She’d gazed at the silent crystal pool in wistful frustration, tempted to dive in anyway, but she was way too sensitive to cold. Such a swim woulda certainly elicited more than 20 ‘fucks….’

So, now that it was summer, and they were in Ukiah once more, she’d come up with the idea to visit this stupendous pool again and SWIM in it. But....40 bucks a day?
Hell, they may as well rent a room and stay the night…..
Hey, why not?

“Call ‘em back!” PP jumped up and down, excited now at the prospect of actually staying and swimming at the Vichy Springs Resort. “Maybe we can get a room and just swim all day long!”
Grinning, DHBF had made the call, gotten a ‘yes’ there was a room available, but they better reserve it. They were filling up fast for the Convention. What the hell convention would they be having in Ukiah, PP wondered. Must be a Cow Convention, is all she could think of as they threw their stuffs in the Cobalt and left the Economy Inn in the dust—though not before one final tender thought for the blissful little pool that’d been so perfect the night before.


II


PP gazed over the fence at the still turquoise beauty that was the Vichy Springs Pool. Olympic sized is what was advertised, which maybe was true in 1935 when it was built. Today, it looked about the same length as Mills or the Y, but the setting….well, nothing could beat it. The shady sycamores and pines overhanging the right hand corner. The sweet little white picket fence surrounding the pool.

But best of all…..NO ONE was in it!

PP had been sorely worried that it being summer, the pool would be full of screaming children. It was the season after all. But maybe since it was the middle of the week and they were early, it was before noon, the kids hadn’t arrived yet.

Or maybe they didn’t allow kids in the Vichy Springs Resort?

Somehow, PP doubted this, though hope did spring eternal. But now, seeing the pool ready and waiting just for her, PP couldn’t wait. She hadda dive in right now. But oh…could she? Since they were so early, they probably couldn’t check in yet. Damn!

Heading back to the office, PP’s heart was racing. She wanted to swim in this pool so much. It was like a Magnificent Obsession that finally would be realized.
How weird was she? People don’t get obsessed over pools, do they?

Their loss, she thought to herself as she met DHBF grinning on his way outta the office.
“Sean said, no worries. We can go ahead and use the grounds before we check in.”
“Does that mean the pool?” PP jumped up and down, clapping her hands.
“Yes, sweetie, that means the pool. Though we could go for a hike to the waterfall first if you’d rather….”
PP gave him an incredulous stare. Was he serious? No, she could see that twinkle in his eye. He knew better. The Pool was the priority. And that was that!


III


Poised on the edge of the pool, she shivered in anticipation and coolness. The water was clear and glassy, though a bit chilly. Sucking in her breath, PP grinned at DHBF who stood watching her from under one of the shady trees. So gallant, he was gonna let her have the first swim to herself.

What a luxury!

Diving in, PP felt the mineraly water wash over the top of her head as she stroked the still water, cutting through its turquoisy goldenness at a good cold induced clip, the honeycombed reflections on the pools bottom reflecting the noon day sun she’d said ‘fuck it’ to for just this once.

And it was worth it as she swam back and forth. No one in sight except DHBF now seated on one of the lounge chairs reading a mystery.

PP was in Pool Heaven. Her Pool Heaven. Her Vichy Pool!

At least for a little while as she turned and headed back down the center, grinning to herself as she swam over the tiled “Vichy” mosaic laid out on the pool’s sacred bottom.

~to be continued~

The Economy Inn

"There’s a pool….” Dashingly Handsome Boyfriend coaxed, tired, hot and patient after their long, HOT hike round Mendocino Lake. Idling on the side of N. Main St. in downtown Ukiah, PP needed a pool and she needed a pool NOW! But The Economy Inn?

“I dunno…..” PP glanced dubiously out the window, squinting in the afternoon heat. There did appear to be a small pool, behind a cement walled enclosure under the Economy Inn Signage: EVERYONE WELCOME. HBO IN ROOM. AIR CONDITION. MINI FIDGE.

Maybe it was the mini fidge that PP found most dubious about the joint, not to mention the deserted parking lot. So, okay it’d be quiet, but quiet in that sorta seedy creepy way.

“Let’s keep looking,” she murmured. “Maybe there’s a better one with a pool up the road a bit.”
“Sure, no problem,” DHBF pulled into the traffic, keeping his eyes peeled for the next available hotel with a pool.

Actually, PP had already found the Ukiah Community Pool, by following the Emerald Green Parks & Rec sign: Golf/Pool--Turn here, Now here! Okay, here we are!) But her intrepid pool nose only led to Pool Frustration, complete with cranky rude lifeguards and lines of screaming children gearing up for swim lessons. When she’d asked the harried sullen teen at the front window counting the day’s take if there was lap swimming, she’d just shrugged and said “Probably.”
“Probably?” What the hell does that mean? Of course, PP refrained from blurting this out, though it was hard, but she did manage to ask if ‘probably’ was happening today or tomorrow?
“Probably tomorrow.”
“Like probably when?”

”Well, the pool is open from 1-5.”
“So, will you have lap swimming then?”
You know what she said.

Needless to say, PP was a bit cranky with the vagueness of the Ukiah Teen’s response and so when the quest for a hotel pool began, she was in no mood for any more ‘probablys’!

DHBF pulled over to the side of the road, next to the Cabanna Royale Inn. Frankly, there was nothing Royal about it. Limp pathetic palms dying in the heat. A wrong coral colored wall with too big dirty windows showing an over bright lobby.

But there was a pool.

“What about this one?” DHBF asked dubiously.
“No.”
“It has a pool.”
“Yeah, I see that.” Actually, she didn’t really see the pool, but assumed it was somewhere behind the coral wall with the most dead palm drooping over it.
“Can we keep looking?”
“Sure, sure…..” DHBF is beyond patience with her when it comes to pools. She guessed it was because of his sweet nature, but then when she thought about it, he was most likely this way for self-preservation.

“What about the Motel Voll?” PP pointed to the side of the road where a cute lemon motel with a mural of a grape vine on the side of the lobby wall sat invitingly in the shade.
“But does it have a pool?” DHBF joked.
PP scanned the parking lot and the area surrounding the motel. A rectangular garden to the side of the motel was suspiciously shaped like a pool.
“Hey!” DHBF scoffed, “Do you think that USED to be a pool?”

”Sacrilege!” PP exclaimed. Filling in a pool should be against the law. Especially when she needed one! “Let’s get outta here!”
“Done!” DHBF stepped on the gas of the Chevy Cobalt, lunging back into the afternoon Ukiah rush hour at a roaring 23 miles per hour. Those, Cobalts! Built for the quick getaways.

“Hey, a Motel 6!” DHBF called out.
PP glanced crankily at the swarms of fat bikini moms and screaming kids jumping into the pint sized pool. Across the street was the helicopter take-off field. What a great combo. Shrieking kids and obnoxious whirly birds.

No thanks. Pool or no pool.

“What do you wanna do?” DHBF pulled away from the curb, doing a crazy U turn taxi driver style. “I don’t think there’s anything else down this way,” he explained, as PP gripped the side of her seat. Part of her liked the dare devil cabbie moves, and part of her didn’t.

At this point, she didn’t care. She just wanted a pool. Any pool. And if she didn’t get in a pool soon, she was gonna have a meltdown in stupid Ukiah.

“Let’s just go back to the Economy Inn,” she sighed.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it was close to downtown. We could walk somewhere for dinner.”
DHBF grinned his sexy smile, “And it had a pool.”

20 minutes later, after checking in with Mr. Patel and airing out the Lysol infested room, PP was happily swimming back and forth in the adorable little Economy Inn pool, delighting in the magic of “MINI FIDGE” hanging above her every time she turned round, which was often. The pool was very small.

But it was a pool! And it was perfect! No one else was there. The water was clear and cool. So refreshing after their baking Lake Mendocino hike and cranky search for the pool.
But now.
It was heaven as she splashed back and forth, the water welcoming her with its enchanted silky embrace. It does just go to show you. It doesn’t matter for a PP how big the pool is or where it is.
It just has to be wet to satisfy her Pool Lust.
Oh, and be screaming kid free, Please!

So, in the end, the sign was right.
Everyone was welcome!
At least if they could swim!
And with a happy splash, PP pounced on DHBF in the lovely little pool, wrapping her legs around him in blissful pool purrs.....

My Pool at Vichy Springs!

Stories to come! Twin Girls trying on PP's fins. Cool turquoisy peace in the late afternoon heat.
Alarm clock lady with loud polka dotted suit.....
Suffice it to say, PP has wanted to swim in this pool since the moment she saw it last winter. Read all about it this weekend......if you dare!

~to be continued~

Suburb Pool Rant

Okay, PP thought it would be a good idea. Stop by the Y on her way home from work. Sure it was in the suburbs, but hell, there were certainly good things about this, right? A parking lot. No traffic thro the odious Caldecott tunnel since she’d be two hours later. A bright friendly suburban swimming experience in Sunny Pleasant Hill, right?

WRONG!!!!

The DeutscherSchlecter Y was from hell on every level. Screaming Children. Rude Lifeguards. Fat leachy cigar smoking middle aged white guys. No they weren’t smoking cigars at the pool, but if they coulda been, they woulda been.

Why do the suburbs have the reputation of being so safe and friendly when in reality they’re so alienating and frustrating?

The bored teen at the front counter was nice enough.Llet her in with her Y Oakland Card. Picked up the pool schedule, glanced at it yawning, and told her that "Ya, there’s lap swimming now, at 4:30, 2 lanes."

Purrfect, she’d thought. She really needed a swim after her long day reviewing research papers on line about food addiction, erectile dysfunction and undocumented immigrants. That’s one thing she could say for the job—the variety of paper grading was there.

But the variety at the Y?
Nothing but goddamn screaming families. Taking over the entire pool. PP slowly made her way out onto the deck in the blazing heat, her sun protective shirt sticking to her. She really needed a swim NOW!!!

But the prospects looked less than promising. Esp. when she asked the surly lifeguard at the helm. “Excuse me?”
Grunt
“Uh…..the guy at the front counter said that there’d be two lanes for lap swimming?”
“One of the lane lines broke.”
“Excuse me?” PP repeated, standing in the glaring light. What the hell was he saying? That cuz a lane line broke there’d be no lap swimming?
Evidently.
She stepped aside as two teenage girls in their matching American Flag Bikinis cannonballed into the pool, shrieking with the abandoned hysteria that only teen girls from the suburbs can .

Frowning, PP continued to try to get a response outta the lifeguard, “So, then.....will there be no lap swimming? “
Shrugging he didn’t look at her, “Don’t know. Go ask one of them.’
“Who?”
‘The swim instructors over there”—he pointed in huffy perturbness—“ask them when their lessons are gonna be over.”
Shit.
PP made her way over to the lesson guards, knelt down and asked. One bleached blonde just steered her child charge away, ignoring her, another one glared at her and announced to the air that she’d be done at 5:30…..

Ok, what to do?

PP could scream.
She did consider this for a moment. But then decided that no one would notice her, let alone pay attention.
She could leave.
She also considered this, but then thought, what the hell, she was here now. It was only about a half hour away.
So, she’d wait.

But where?
All the chaise lounges were taken up with either lazing middle aged men (What was up with that? Didn’t they hafta go work in the Big City every day to support their screaming kids and expensive wives?) or littered with harried moms in oversized gold rimmed sunglasses trying to keep the kids from killing each other.

PP was so glad she lived in Oakland. She complained about it often. The traffic. The overcrowding. The expense. Hell, the pool was often full of kids at the Oakland Y too. But for some reason, they didn't seem so.....Suburban?
Yeah, the big city swimming kids were excited to be there in an awe way. Not a yawn way.

So it shouldn't surprise her that whenever she visited the suburbs for any real necessary experience like swimming, where you’d think the BEST swimming would be, right? she realized that Oakland had been her home for so long for good reason. And even though the Y downtown was often crowded too, there was a friendly big city welcoming feel to it. Not this cold can’t be bothered with anyone but my fr%%**##king children attitude.

The suburbs. They were selfish as all get out.

Why is that? PP is too tired to analyze now. All she knows is that when 5:30 finally rolled around with still no sign of any lap swimming going on so she just got into the swim lesson lane and swam around them, and then when she asked the lesson guard what the hell was up with lap swimming and she’d just glared at PP and said she’d be done with her lesson at 5:40 and then this Ancient Guy from 1876 got in too and started swimming /sinking cuz his legs were so heavy and then a Look Liked She Knew What She Was About Woman got in and when PP asked her if it was always anarchy at the pool and she’d given PP a blank stare PP realized she either probably didn’t know what anarchy meant or she probably didn’t know what anarchy meant……

Well, PP decided, that yes, it was nice to miss the goddamn traffic inching thro the heinous caldecott tunnel, but it wasn’t worth trying to negotiate the insanity traffic in the pool at the DeutcherShlecter YMCA.

It was worse than China.
And that was saying a lot!
Bye Bye Burbs!
Hello Oakland!
Welcome Home and don’t ever, ever, EVER Go Back to THAT POOL again!