The Cost of Color

"Here we are losing jobs and they're paying 4000 dollars a day on orange lights around the rotunda!"

PP glances down at DL lying dazed on the utopia shelf below her. DL’s a Giant’s Fan. Yes, with capital letters.

What’s more important?
Jobs?
Baseball?

PP isn’t gonna venture into this territory. But she will do her usual prompts to keep the ‘ball’ rolling.
”You meant the top of the city capital building?” PP isn’t quite sure what a rotunda is. It’s late; she’s already done her swim, and now Utopia. None of this helps her recall of architectural structures.
“Yes, that’s right,” Sandy nods. “I mean, okay, I have nothing against Lesbians but why do they have to light it up pink?”
Does DL shift slightly? Again, PP isn’t gonna drag her into the dialogue, at least not yet.
“Why pink?” PP asks.
“That’s a good question,” Sandy says.
“It’s because of the Nazis,” DL helps now. “They used pink triangles to identify gays and lesbians during the War.”




“Really?” PP asks, not ever having heard this before. Not that Nazi history is a particular interest of hers. In fact, she hates Nazi stuff. But doesn’t everybody?

Well, no, some people are fascinated by it. Why PP knows of one person who….oh but she transgresses. Back to Utopia.
“Yes, it was a Witch Hunt,” DL says solemnly.
“Oh,” PP pauses, “yes, I knew that.”
“I didn’t realize,” Sandy says.
“Yeah, I never knew that pink symbolized anything other than that pretty girlie girl thing.”
Sandy nods, “Yes, and boys are blue. Starting at birth.” She rises and slowly makes her way out of the sauna. "The things one learns in the sauna" she sighs. “Good night ladies,” and waves at them before opening the door and letting herself out.
“I’m hot,” DL says. “I gotta get outta here.”

PP nods, thinking that she’s gotta get out of here too. All those colors are making her queasy.

Orange for Baseball.
Pink for Lesbians.
Blue for Boys.






Green for solar.
Purple for Barney.
Red for Passion.

Wait, that last one isn’t a thing. It’s an idea.

But then isn’t the pink for Lesbians also an idea?

Of course it is.

And it’s worth much more that $4000 a night…..

Is It Real? (Part II)

“You need to get out of here NOW!” Sexy Latina Clerk was having none of PP’s usual dilly dallying round getting dressed.

Not like PP was. Dilly dallying that is. With the shrieking HONK HONK HONK of the fire alarm and her (imagined?) smelling of smoke out at the pool, she was going as fast as she could.

But as any swimmer knows, there’s a LOT of stuff involved. The peeling off the suit (No, she didn’t even consider taking a shower –duh), drying off, putting clothes on. Collecting the cap, ear plugs, mask, water bottle, etc.

“Just wrap a towel around you!” SLC hollers over the alarm as she runs up and down the aisles of the locker room, making sure everyone is out.

Yeah, right, like PP is just gonna wrap a towel around herself, soaking wet, and run upstairs and stand naked (under the towel) in the freezing cold night fog of the Hilltopia parking lot.

Fire or no fire, she was gonna at least put her clothes on first.

And she did, skipping most of the drying off, and tossing her junk into her swim bag, wondering (for only a moment) if she’d lost her earplugs.

No one else was in the locker room. The frantic mom and kid had evacuated minutes before. While PP was impressed with her own 3 minute quick change, it was nothing compared to the panicked mom rescuing her child.

And so, out PP goes, up the stairs, into the night where a little crowd of YMCA’ers are hanging around, chatting, bouncing basket balls, shuffling aimlessly.
A couple of the clerks come out with piles of towels, “Does anyone need a towel?” PP stood for a moment, surveying the scene. The crowd was decidedly unpanicked.

It certainly didn’t appear that the facility was burning down. On the other hand, even if it weren’t, how long would it take for them to figure it out? By the time they did, it’d be 9:30 and she’d have no time to swim cause the pool would be closed.

Or even if they did figure it out in time enough for her to swim, she’d still have to wait out here in the freezing cold with wet hair and damp clothes on for who knows how long.





"WHRRRR WHRRRR WHRRRRRR!!!!!”
Two fire engines come roaring into the parking lot, lights flashing, sirens screaming, firemen jumping out.

Shit.

PP wasn’t gonna wait. Sure she was curious if the place was really on fire, but…..

She would surely get a shooting pain earache if she stood out in the cold wind with her wet head much longer.

And so, she stalked off to the Geo, followed by a few other workout quitters.

Maybe some might think a fire was the perfect excuse to get out of working out?

Perhaps. For PP, as any of you can guess, the entire episode was beyond crankiness.

She almost hoped the place did burn down.

Except then she’d never see David Cassidy’s smiling face anymore.
Or Autistic Dad’s friendly wave.
Or Swedish Accent Woman’s spastic backstroke.

Okay, she could live without the last one, but you get the drift.

Pulling out of the parking lot, she heads out Lakeside Dr, and then turns up the hill, just as another fire engine comes roaring down toward the Y.

Maybe it really was on fire?

Nah, she couldn’t believe this. But yet…. The evidence was compelling. The alarm. The smoke. (Well, maybe) The evacuation. The fire engines.

Honestly, she’d never been part of such a real fire alarm production.

It woulda been kinda thrilling if she hadn’t missed her swim.

Maybe it was thrilling anyway?

No. Definitely not, as she got on the wretched dark frwy and headed back home, fighting back the teary disorientation that was starting to take over from an interrupted swim.


Epilogue

“Hilltop YMCA. This is Marina speaking. How can I help you?”
“I’m just calling to make sure the place didn’t burn down last night. Obviously, since you answered, it’s still standing.”
Mariana laughs nervously. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that. No, the place didn’t burn down. We’re still here.”
“So what happened? Why did the alarm go off?”
“Some kid pulled it.”




PP shook her head into the phone. Duh. She knew this, but how could she have argued this last night amid all the pandemonium? “That’s what I figured,” she says now.

“Yes, well, we’re gonna send out a survey to see if we can find out who did it.”
PP laughs. Yeah, right, like some kid is gonna confess to his/her parents? Or even if the kid did confess, the parents would report their kid?

What would be the consequences? Would the kid be banned from the YMCA for life? Would the parents have to foot the bill for the Richmond Fire Department’s two responding engines? Would PP get the privilege of drowning the little monster?

It was a stupid idea.
But somehow so YMCA.

“Okay, well, thanks,” PP says now, “I can swim today.”
“Yes, the pool is open. Thanks for calling the Hilltop YMCA."

It is Real?

~Part I~





It was a swimmer’s dream. The pool was absolutely empty with the exception of one quiet (very unusual) family floating about in the rec lanes.




No one was swimming laps. The water was smooth and inviting. PP couldn’t believe her good luck. This never happens, well almost never.

David Cassidy Lifeguard gave her his hearty excited wave as he invited her to partake of the empty pool. PP felt almost giddy. Friday night after a long week; the pool was going to be perfect.

She slipped into the silky smoothness and began her gliding stroke.
Heaven!

Until…..

Her mask started to leak! Damn! So cranky! And she’d just bought it. Brand new and it leaked? Yet, she could manage this. Stopping at the wall every few laps and dumping the excess water out. It was a pain, but still, the pool was all hers and this is what really mattered!

"HOOOONNNKKKK HOOOOONKKKK HOOOOONKKKK HOOONNNNK!!!!"

The noise was deafening.
What the hell was going on?
She stopped mid lap and looked over at David. He was in a flurry of activity. Trying to get the family out of the pool.
Why?
"HOOOONKK HOOONKKK HOONKKK HOOONKKK…!!!!"


“YOU HAVE TO GET OUT!” he hollered over the noise.
“What?” PP continued to stand, mid lane. Did he really say she had to get out? Without finishing her swim? Why she’d only been in 10 minutes. Only done maybe three or four hundred yards.





She couldn’t get out.
“YOU NEED TO GET OUT NOW!!!”
“Why?”
“It’s the fire alarm."
“You’re kidding?”
He shook his head as PP swam over to the edge and clambered out, wet, cold, mad and puzzled.
The fire alarm? He was making her stop swimming over a stupid fire alarm?
Since when does anyone pay attention to a fire alarm?

PP has been teaching for so many years, and sure every quarter or so, the alarm will go off.

Does anyone pay attention, let alone evacuate the premises?

Nah.
She remembers recently reading in her office when an alarm went off. It was obnoxiously persistent, so she wandered out into the hallway. No one was around. She moseyed over to the librarian to ask, “What’s that noise?”
“Sounds like a fire alarm,” he told her.
“That’s what I thought…..” She paused. “Shouldn’t we see if there’s a fire?”
He laughed. “I don’t think there’s a fire, but if it would make you feel better I’ll go check it out.”
And he did, PP following behind him down the long hall, down the stairs, till the culprit noise was located behind a locked door.
“Yup, here it is. I’ll get someone to unlock the door and turn it off.”
“So it just went off because….”? she ventured.
He laughed. “They go off sometimes. Don’t know why. But nothing to worry about.”




And so, this night at Hilltopia when the alarm went off, PP was just gonna ignore it. But David Cassidy wouldn’t have it. She had to get out of the pool.


DAMN!!!!
What the hell was she gonna do? Was she supposed to evacuate into the dark cold Richmond night till the fire dept arrived?
“Where do I go?” she asked David.
He ran to ask his boss, who must have communicated the obvious fact that the building needed to be completely evacuated.
“Grab your stuff and get outside,” David hollered at her over the deafening noise.
"Do you think there's really a fire?" she asked.
"I hope not," he said, before running back to take care of some important evacuation procedure.

PP shook her head, was this really happening? In all of her many many many years of lap swimming, she’d never been booted from the pool because of a fire alarm.

Yet…..Was that smoke that she smelled?





Shivering, PP hurried into the locker room, shaking her head, but also just a little worried that it might all be real…..

~To be continued~

Pool Renovation?

“What’s up with the cold air blowing on the far end of the pool?” PP asks the New Cutie Lifeguard after her freezing swim at the Oakland Y.
“Yeah, some other people have complained about that. It’s part of the renovation….”
“It’s part of the Renovation to freeze all the swimmers out of the pool?”
He laughs. “Yeah, it is cold. I was teaching a swim lesson the other day and I definitely felt it.”
“So, are they gonna fix it?”
He shakes his head. “I think they’re working on it.”
PP likes this answer. It works for almost everything doesn’t it? She can’t think what right now. But she’s working on it.

“What is the purpose of this Renovation”? she asks instead of commenting on the working time frame.
“It’s supposed to get rid of the mold on the ceiling.” He grins.
PP laughs. “You’re kidding?”
“I know. They think that if they blow air on the ceiling that it will help.”





“That seems like such a good idea,” PP jokes as Swim in her Shoes woman, who’d been sharing her lane, approaches. “Did you hear what he said about the cold air blowing on us?” PP asks S in HSW.
“No, what did he say?”
“He said it was to get rid of the mold on the ceiling.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Why the hell don’t they just clean it off and then give it a fresh coat of paint?”




Why not indeed?

Later PP tells DL about the Arctic Air blowing on the pool and she just shakes her head and says, “Typical Oakland.”




The next day, PP gets a message in her email alerting her to an EMERGENCY POOL CLOSURE. Oh, how surprising. Something to do with mechanical failure and flooding that caused them to close the pool indefinitely.

Was the Giant Arctic Air Blowing Renovation part of the mechanical malfunction? she wonders.

PP has no idea.

But she's sure they're working on it....

3 Tales from the Bijou Pool at Tahoe

I: Priorities

PP’s so excited to be back in South Lake Tahoe and headed for the Bijou Pool. Swimming under the pines. Under the bright moon. In her own lane....

Until…..She gets there and whoa!

It’s crowded!

What the hell is up with that? When she’d swam here before it'd been calm and empty. Tonight there’re at least two swimmers in each lap lane and a full group of ‘water aerobics’ women taking up the rest of the pool.

Plus it was freezing!

Of course this is to be expected. After all, she was in the high sierras. But still……how could there be so many swimmers in such cold conditions?

The Tahoe swimmers must be a hardy bunch.

She dives in, sharing a lane with two other women, then one gets out and she’s just splitting a lane with Tattoo Bikini Jockette. She’s not such a great swimmer, kinda crooked and splashy, but hell she looks good and isn’t that at least some of what swimming is about?

Afterwards in the locker room, still freezing after her hot shower (and yes, thankfully it was hot), PP watches as one of the Water Aerobic Women attempts to detangle her hair. “Oh, bother!” she exclaims, chuckling.

“Yeah,” PP grins, “that’s the hard part for me. The tangles.”
“Yes, well…” She sighs, continuing to tug at her wet tresses. “For awhile I colored the grey, but then I decided not to bother.”

PP had been admiring the color. The grays and whites and blacks all streaked together. “It’s wonderful as it is!”


WAW smiles, slowly, then shakes her head, “Well, I decided that really it was more important for me to worry about losing weight before I worried about the color of my hair.”

They both laugh, even though PP always feels a bit self-conscious 'round dieting women, being slim herself. Yet it did seem that the priorities were something WAW had thought about. “I’ve already lost 37 pounds!” she exclaims, beaming.
“That’s great!” PP says. “The water exercise helps, I bet!”
“Oh yes, it does. Though I need to come more often. I try to make it 3 times a week but…..”
“It’s cold!” PP offers.
She frowns. Then shrugs. “Yes, I suppose. Though that’s not what stops me. I just seem to have a hard time getting here is all.”
“I get that!” PP laughs. “Especially if you’re coloring your hair.”
“Remember! I was gonna hold off on that!” she grins, collecting her stuff off the bench and packing it up.
“Have a nice evening,” she calls back to PP as she exits the room.
“Thanks, you too,” PP says, as she heads to the mirror and begins the arduous process of her own detanglement.

II. Sharing





Night two at the Bijou Pool. This night is not as crowded. DHBF has dropped PP off for her swim so he can go to the store for dinner supplies (See why she keeps him around? Chauffeur, Shopper and Chef all wrapped into one handsome package!)

But again, it’s COLD! So PP has to snag a lane lickety-split before she loses her nerve (Actually the water itself is fine, she guesses 'bout 82 degrees, but the air? It’s heading for that low of 34 that’ll it’ll reach later)

One person swims in each of the three lanes. A flopping on his back elderly gent. A speedy bikini woman (What is it with the Tahoe bikinis? PP knows that these racing suits are made but it’s been awhile since she’s seen them—no one at the YMCA dons such attire), and finally, a bald headed guy. (Isn’t his head cold, she wonders)

PP chooses the bikini woman (naturally). “Excuse me, can I share the lane with you?”
BW stares up at PP through her foggy goggles, nods and then smiles. “You can have the lane.” She dives under the lane line to join Bald Swimmer. “We’re together.”

“Really?” PP is astounded. No one ever deserts her lane at the YMCA. Everyone clings to the lane if she’s lucky enough to have scored one to herself. Then don’t look at the person wanting to get in and share. Don’t wait at the wall and ask if they want to join. Let alone offer to hand over the lane.

So, PP is completely happily surprised by such gracious generosity. Is it something to do with the Alpine Air?

Maybe, as she hops into the lane and zooms down it gleefully by herself.
Or maybe it just has to do with the fact that the two of them really are ‘together’.



III By Myself





She’s only about 6? Maybe 7? Tadpoling down the center of the lane on the last night that PP is in Tahoe. Her bright red flowered suit reminiscent of a tropical fish.

Okay, PP thinks. A kid. But this kid seems serious. She’s really swimming laps.

There’s a bunch of kids in the other half of the pool tonight instead of the Water Aerobic Women. But none of them are swimming laps. They’re all just doing the usual kid stuff: screaming, splashing, fighting.

But Red Suit Girl will have none of this. When she stops at the wall, PP asks if she can share her lane. She nods, smiles shyly and then takes off back down the lane doing a mighty underwater breaststroke.

As PP swims, she notices that the kid keeps on going, rarely stopping. But at one point they are both at the wall turning, so PP praises her, “You’re a really good swimmer!”
She beams.
“Are you on a swim team?”
“No.”
“Me neither,” PP says. “Do you like to swim alone?”
“Yeah,” she nods, her eyes sparkling.
“Me too,” PP grins.

And she watches Swim Alone Kid take off again, reminding PP of herself at that age, swimming back and forth and back and forth for what seemed like hours in the wonderful backyard pool of Hacienda Heights, reveling in the solitary freedom of it.

Which is part of what swimming is all about. Where else can you be immersed in the floating deliciousness of the water, surrounded by only its embrace, even if you're sharing with a fellow lap swimmer or a like-minded kid, and still feel completely and blissfully alone?

Nowhere.

PP grins to herself as she plunges after Swim Alone Kid, enjoying the company, the moon, and herself in the beautiful Pool Bijou....

Channeling Esther

“That’s a BEAUTIFUL breaststroke you have there!”

PP continues her Esther Williams backstroke. She’s been practicing this elegant pretence since seeing Esther in Neptune’s Daughter. Esther swims gracefully, effortlessly around in coy circles as Ricardo Montabahn proclaims his undying love for her. Of course, Esther is safe in her little pool. Until Ricardo threatens to dive in after her……




Don’t worry, PP is not going to give away the entire scene!

But the reality is that PP’s backstroke is a pale imitation of Esther’s. It’s never been her forte. The only way she can do it at all, besides channeling Esther, is by donning her big fins to help keep her afloat.





“HELLO!!!!” Breaststroke Mistake Woman hollers more loudly at PP. “I said, ‘You have a BEAUTIFUL breaststroke!’”

PP stops at the wall and grins over at the pale eager moon face, eyes shining, nodding in rapt admiration.

PP wonders….should she tell BMW that she’s actually swimming the backstroke?

Nah, PP just nods, smiles sweetly, “Thanks,” and, then dives under the water for her favorite stroke: The Breaststroke.

Gram Swims Backwards!

“Soon, you’ll be swimming, Gram!” PP jokes as she stares down at her Gram, so small and frail in her pile of pillows after her harrowing 'episode' in the hospital last week. Now she’s home, resting at Uncle Joe’s as PP, DHBF and Ruthie (PP’s mom) visit.

Gram laughs, her bright blue eyes twinkling behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Oh, no!” she giggles, “I don’t swim.”
“Yes you do,” PP asserts. “Don’t you remember?”
Gram shakes her head. The ‘episode’ of the last week has taken a toll on her. Not just her memory, though this is what seems to bother her the most,but her entire self, body and soul has shrunk dramatically.

Of course, this is to be expected. Still PP can’t help but be so very sad that her Gram may be …….

But tonight, Gram is in fine form. Why, PP’s jokes were welcome and definitely encouraged.

“I don’t remember ever swimming!” Gram exclaims.
“Well, you did,” PP grins. “Remember our pool in Hacienda Heights?”
Gram nods, “Yes, I do.”
“Well, I remember one afternoon, you came in the water with me and Paula and Laura (PP's sisters) and we were all laughing so hard because you were swimming backwards!”
“I was?” Gram shakes her head, smiling.
“Yup. It was really funny. We were all in the water and urging you to swim towards us, but whenever you took a stroke for some reason you went backwards instead of forwards!”
Gram laughs, “That’s just what I’m doing now!”

They all laugh. It’s true. Gram’s ‘backwards memory’ of the past is crystal clear. She remembers the color and pattern of the dress she wore (green with black dots) and who was there (her brothers Wilfred and Wycliffe and their wives and children all of whom she can list off--- on the other hand, PP can’t remember them at all!); where they were (at the ranch in Oak Glen) and the time of day (it was late afternoon, round 4 p.m. before mom got supper ready….)All of this taking place over 50 or 60 years ago.


PP marvels at this memory of the past. Esp. since her memory is so awful. She can barely remember what she had for breakfast that morning even though it was only 3 hours ago and even though she always eats the same thing!

But the swimming backwards memory seems to be PP’s alone. Gram has no recollection of it, though she does believe it.
“Well, if you say that I swam backwards, then I swam backwards!” she laughs, shaking her head and staring up at PP from her throne of soft pillows. Her look is long and loving. PP stares back, trying not to cry.

The memory of swimming backwards does help with tear prevention.

If only PP could use this strategy for all of her tearful inclinations!

“Did I tell you about the time that your Aunt Nancy saved your cousin Leora from drowning?” Gram begins, launching into another story.
“No, I’ve never heard that one!” PP encourages, taking Gram’s frail hand into her own.
Gram grips her hand tightly as she begins, “Leora was just a little girl. Oh! She must have been only 7 or 8 years old and your Aunt Nancy, you know how she was such a good swimmer, she saw that Leora was in trouble and so she raced out to the middle of the lake and…..”





Tears start to well up in PP’s eyes, but she wipes them away.

This is no time for weeping!

After all, Gram has a story! Leora is going to be saved by Aunt Nancy!

And Gram's story will certainly save PP....

Expansion

The Ugly Stick had bonked the hot tub at the Berkeley Y big time!

PP keeps swimming in the freezing B Y pool. She hates this pool. It’s always cold! But it was the only choice since the stupid Oakland Y closed their pool and in fact the entire facility for the week—so DL and PP had ventured into the land known as Bezerkely.

Now, trying to keep her muscles from completely freezing up on her, PP keeps an eye on the hot tub. Yet…..like she said, the Ugly Stick had been working overtime. At least a dozen Ugly Stick Men were lounging about in the tub, their scraggly beards wet and stringy, their paunchy stomachs hairy and wet, their….

Okay you get the idea.

PP doesn’t want to make you sick.
(What is it about Berkeley and the Ugly Stick? Later in Utopia, PP mentions this to DL and she just nods and pronounces: “It’s the Smug Lack of Hygiene Aspect.”)

Yup. PP doesn’t want to take a hot tub with this Aspect, yet no one seems to be leaving and she’s getting colder and colder and colder till, finally she has to get out of the pool and venture over to the tub.

Is there room for her?

She’s super cold and afraid. Wishes that DL were with her, but knows that DL had had enough of the Berkeley Male Aspect. Earlier they’d ventured up to the Free Weights room, had stood at the door, staring in at the torture machines, unsure if this was the right spot. A Berkeley Groovy Guy with snow white hair and too tall legs in too short shorts sneaks up behind them. “You can go in!” he exclaims. “We can?” PP asks. Like they need his permission? “Absolutely!” he cries and then opens the door for them. DL gives PP a look like she’s gonna explode.





PP remembers this look from the first time she met DL at Polar Bear ice cream on 4th of July when the line was out the door and all the idiot tourists couldn’t make up their minds if they wanted a ‘sugar cone or a natural cone.’



So, tonight, with this look, DL and PP go into the Free Weight room, Too Tall Absolutely Man heads in ahead of them, ignoring them now. “What a sexist!” DL hisses. PP laughs, but knows that it’s serious really. Berkeley. So politically correct?





“He’s a Fem Perv” DL asserts later in Utopia.

What an apt description. Only a Poet Feminist would come up with this.

Anyway, back to the hot tub full of many Fem Pervs no doubt, PP climbs in, squeezing between a withered African American Hot Tub Elder and a pasty goat teed pasty blob.
UGH!

“The gang is all here, my man!” AAHTE calls out to no one in particular. PP smiles in spite of her discomfort. Glad that she wasn’t really a part of this gang on a regular basis. One night was enough as she watches an emaciated Santa Claus pontificate as only Bekeleites can do about the lack of education in ……blah blah blah….

PP really misses Aquatopia in Oakland with the hilarious naked ladies that are familiar territory. It’s hard to be in a new place.

And so it is that they don’t know anyone and no one really talks to them till they’re getting dressed at the end of the night, PP trying to gather all of her crap up out of her locker, off the floor, out of the towel, DL lying comatose on the bench when a Pleasant Pasty Woman lumbers into their aisle.

Hurriedly PP tries to move all of her shit. “Sorry, I don’t need to be takin' up the entire bench,” she apologizes.
“That’s ok,” PPW nods, watching as PP piles her Swim a Mile bag to the brim.
“Your stuff does not all fit in your bag,” PPW observes.
“Yeah, why is that?” PP laughs. “It expands. Must be the wet swimsuit.”
She nods, understanding. “And your fins. They don’t fit in your bag?”
“Nah, I have to carry them. The expansion is too much.”



She laughs.
“And the expanded weight is so hard for me to carry,” PP grins, “esp. since I’ve gotten smaller!”
They all laugh, even DL who’s woken up from her coma.

Later, walking to the car, DL comments on PP’s ‘joke’ and how before this exchange they hadn’t talked to anyone. “But I guess we don’t know anyone here at Berkeley,” she muses.

“We know Laughing at Expansion Woman!” PP exclaims.
DL laughs.
”And Fem Perv Man!”

DL wrinkles her nose, “Where’d you park?”
Laughing, PP points to the Geo down the block as they head toward DL’s car.

Outlaw Lifeguard Take II!

The Outlaw Lifeguard has a broken nose! What does it mean?

PP asks DL her opinion of course, and DL comes up with the perfect answer: he got in a fight.
And with whom?
Tatiana naturally. She found out that he’d been letting lap swimmers use the water walker lane behind her back and ‘wham’ –he’d got his comeuppance!

PP can just imagine:

Miffed and angry, Tatiana confronts Outlaw Lifeguard: “I know what you’ve been doing behind my back.”
“What?" OL grins, sheepish, slightly belligerent.
“I think you know.”
“No, really, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play games with me.”





“I’m not playing games. I honestly don’t know what you’re referring to.”
She eyes him, exasperated, “It has to do with the water walking lane.”
He tries to withhold a smirk. “The water walking lane? What about it?”
She sighs deeply, trying to keep her cool, but it’s hard. He’s such a smart ass. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”




“I wish you would,” he taunts.

She tries to keep from screaming, “You’ve been letting the lap swimmers SWIM in the Water Walking Lane when the rules expressly prohibit it! I told you! No swimmers in the Water Walkers Lane. Is that so hard to understand? All I’m trying to do here is follow the rules and you go behind my back! You allow certain swimmers to use the lane that is ONLY for the water walkers.”

“Certain swimmers?” He grins, “I have no idea who you mean.”
“You know exactly who I mean. I told her too that she couldn’t swim there and then I leave!..... but before I go.....I...." Tatiana pauses, trying to control herself, but it's all too much. "...I look out the window from upstairs and there SHE is, swimming in the water walkers lane! It’s against the RULES! I told her that! And I told you that!”
He shakes his head, chuckles softly, “Hell, I don’t get why she can’t swim there. It’s just an empty lane to me.”
“JUST AN EMPTY LANE!!!!” she cries.

BAM!




Tatiana lets him have it. OL reels from her blow, clutching at his face, “Oww….” as his nose starts to bleed. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Believe it, Buster! I’d take care of that now, if I was you,” she says, turning away, shaken, but pleased.

He grins. Slowly. She’s a feisty one, he thinks to himself. I like that.

Then wiping the blood on his sleeve, he smiles to himself, before heading into the locker room to clean up.

Will he obey T’s punch? Or will he continue to follow his outlaw tendencies?

Stay tuned for more developments.

Same swim time.
Same swim channel
Same Feisty Russian.
Same Smart Ass Outlaw?

Like a Mermaid….

It was unexpected Bliss. For 20 minutes and then…..

PP had fully braced herself for total mayhem at Hilltopia. Tuesday nights seemed to draw flailing families like moths to a burning building.

But yet, when she arrived. Miracle of miracles! An open lane!

Would wonders never cease?

Delighted, she plunged in, washing away the 111 degree heat from her day in Unpleasant Hell.

Yet, it was not to last. 3 lanes were designated for lap swimmers when she arrived, then two. Then one was taken away by the Big Boss, noting the piling up of families squashed together in ¼ of the pool did indeed present some sort of hazard--like maybe no one could tell if a small child were being trampled on till it was too late?

So she shared a lane now. With Bulky Swimmer Chick. Who knew what she was about. It was fine. Until turning at the wall, PP spied a slow moving Asian woman swimming directly toward her from the opposite end of the pool. No clue about communicating she was joining the lane; therefore, the concept of circle swimming?

Forget it.

PP glanced over at the lane next to her. For a few minutes it’d been a father and his son, not swimming laps in the lap swimming lane.

What the hell was up with that?

PP decided that such use of a lap lane in the crowded mayhem was unacceptable. Hailing the Bored Blondie Lifeguard, PP asked if she could swim in the father/son lane. BBL explained something to PP. PP couldn't understand cuz of her earplugs. But got the idea that it was okay for her to swim with the father/son. They’ll split the lane with her.

Diving under the lane line, PP wondered why this kid/father were being allowed to do what they’re doin in the lap lane instead of the mayhem pandemonium of the family swim side. Did the kid hate the noise? Did he have fear of crowds?

Both of these PP understood, but at the same time she thought, ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get outta the frying pan!" In other words, if the kid couldn’t handle the pandemonium, then why was he here at all? Why was he getting special treatment?

Yet as PP passed them, she noticed that something was off. The kid was larger, puffy, flopping. The 'wrongness' was subtle, but still there was something up.

Yet, being the privileged lap swimmer that she was, PP just didn’t get why they were being allowed in the lap lane.

Until stopping at the wall, the father grinned over at her, inviting questioning.
“Is your son afraid of the noise?” PP asked.
He smiled bigger. Shook his head. Muttered something in Spanish.

Shit. Here is yet another instance where PP really wishes she knew Spanish. It’s so stupid to grow up in California and not even know enough Spanish to have a conversation about swimming.

Which is all she’d want to use the language for to be honest.

The father stared at PP, smiling still, then used a practiced phrase of English that he must have to say all the time, “My son, he is Autistic.”





Oh…duh! PP felt so goddamn stupid now. Why the hell didn’t this occur to her? And autistic kids, while she knew little about the condition, were most certainly unable to deal with the general mayhem of all the flailing families in the other half of the pool.

“Today…” the father continued, “it is so hot.”

PP nodded, “Oh, yeah, it was! And I’m sure your son wanted to swim to cool off, right?”
Too much language for the father, but he got the idea. PP had communicated that she was okay with the kid sharing the lane now.

So all was well and PP finished the last of her swim while the father guided Autistic Son along the second half of the lane.

Now PP could see that the kid was acting 'autistic'? His tongue hung out, sometimes licking the water. The father had to pull him up abruptly to discourage this probably involuntarily behavior. The kid had no clue that he was to stay on one side of the lane so PP could swim on the other half. The father had to constantly pull him out of her way. Usually in time, but she did have to stop a few times to avoid a collision.

Of course, normally, this woulda pissed her off. To stop. But hell, the kid was autistic, the day had been hot and besides PP was expecting mayhem anyway.

She still got a swim in. Which is all that mattered.

As she got ready to get out, the father had handed over the son to mom. She was in the lane now, pulling the kid along while the father sat on the deck grinning at PP.
Quick Spanish between the two. “He want to know,” the mother translated, “You swim one hour?”
Laughing, PP shook her head, “Nah, 45 minutes.”
Translating again. “And he want to know, you swim every day?”
“No…no…just 3 or 4 times a week.”
PP heard ‘Tres, Quattro…” and got this. She had learned how to count to 10 in Spanish in Jr. High.
“Yes, Tres, Quattro” PP repeated, grinning at her stupid Spanish abilities.
More back and forth between the two and then the mother beamed over at PP, “He say, you swim like a Mermaid!”




The father nodded, eyeing PP appreciatively.
“Thanks,” PP grinned, genuinely flattered even though she's heard this before. It’s not a new bit of praise. But it delighted her even more tonight. Because of the language? Because of the Autism? Because of the heat?

She just wished, afterward, that she’d found out the word for “Mermaid” in Spanish.

It’d be a nice addition to her ability to count from 1 to 10, don’t you agree?

Outlaw Lifeguard

“Can I swim in That Lane?” PP nods toward the empty (and previously forbidden to lap swimmers—see last blog entry) water walkers lane, grinning expectantly. Stringy Grey Haired Spaz Man had just jumped into her lane and she was drowning.

Tatiana smiles, shakes her head emphatically. “Oh, no, no, NO,” she repeats three times. “I can’t let you do that.”

PP knows she knows that PP knows that no lap swimmers are allowed in the Water Walkers Lane. But PP was gonna give it a go anyway.

“But I got to last week!” PP cries, as SGHSM turns at the wall and sprays her mightily.
Tatiana continues to shake her head, “Maybe if you guys were circle swimming, I’d be okay with it, but nah, not now.”
PP shrugs. So, the rule was only in place unless there was circle swimming? This was the point of subversion? PP decides not to pursue it though. She actually likes T. She’s cute and smart and pays attention. Something that most of the lifeguards here at the Oakland YMCA don’t do.

Except for the Cute and Smarter New Lifeguard that let PP swim in the WWL last week. He’s watching the whole scene unfold with Tatiana; PP feels this. Should she call him into the fray?

Nah, it’s not worth it. If Tatiana wants to stick to the ‘rules’ then so be it. It all makes for a funny story anyway.

So resigned, PP tries to swim. But now Splasher Flipper Man gets in on her other side and all of a sudden she’s experiencing every swimmer’s nightmare—Splash Sandwich. Damn! And with that Empty Lane beckoning her.





Yet PP presses on. What can she do? Though it seems so very very very stupid stupid stupid. There’s an empty lane. No water walkers in sight. (And if one did happen into the lane, of course PP would move).

But yet, tonight, unlike last week, PP can’t swim there because of the Tatiana and the “Rules.”

Turning at the wall, PP catches out of the corner of her eye, Tatiana now dressed in street clothes. Black trousers, black shirt—she’s off!

And as soon as she’s gone…..

Cute and Smarter Lifeguard heads over to PP’s lane, catches her at the wall, squats down and grins, “You can swim over there now.”
“Really?” PP is beyond delight. Not only does she get to swim in the Water Walking Lane, but she’s part of a subversive lifeguard/swimmer cohort.
“But she said I couldn’t. That it’d be breaking the rules.”
He shakes his head, grins broadly. “Yeah.”
“Do you know why it’s a rule anyway?”
“Nah,” he pauses, considering. “To me it’s just an empty lane. You’d hafta ask my boss.”





“And now she’s gone!” PP grins.
“Yeah,” he laughs, rising. “Besides,” he nods toward SGHM, “he’s a little erratic.”


A little erratic? Well that’s one way of putting it! Not only is this lifeguard an Outlaw, ignoring the rules by undermining his boss’s authority first chance he gets, but he also has a good vocabulary!

Delighted with it all, PP dives into the forbidden lane. Swims happily in the smooth water, relishing her freedom from the Splash Sandwich even though in the back of her mind she’s worried. What if Tatiana comes back and finds her breaking the rules? Would she turn in Outlaw Lifeguard? Blame him for her blatant disregard for Tatiana's authority and the Y's 'rules'?

Of course not.

PP would just shrug. Tell Tatiana that it was all her idea. That she was just testing the waters.

Oh, the thrill of it all.

Breaking the rules at the Y never felt so invigorating. PP hasn't done this in awhile. Such wildness! Such abandon! Such daring!

But hey, all you out there who know Tatiana. You better not tell or else...

PP is gonna sick the Outlaw Lifeguard on you!

3 stories in 1!

I.

Claremont Days






“We may be able to swim in the eye of the storm.”

PP grins, delighted as always, by her best friend from Jr. High (Can you believe it? Jr. High?!). JB, or Banana,who has a knack for what? Trying to make the best out of a conceivably bad swimming situation?

It’s Claremont Days at her pool. This happens just one day a year here in San Diego and of course this is the day that PP and DHBF are visiting. PP doesn’t really believe that it will be the mayhem that Banana is foreseeing. Every time she’s gone to this ‘Claremont Pool’ in the past it’s been nothing but lovely, warm and EMPTY! (Every swimmer’s dream!)

Yet today, according to B, the festivities at Claremont Day may take over the pool. “Though maybe no one will be swimming laps,” B muses.

So they head up the hill in B’s racy little Audi and PP can’t believe what she sees in the field surrounding the pool. Actually she’s never even noticed a field before—but today, it’s packed with merry-go-round, spinning barfing ride, frog will toss you ride, cotton candy booth, and…




But the pool?

B was right. No one was swimming laps. So the eye of the storm was a calm and peaceful swim. The water warm. The sky blue. The fears unfounded.

And so they all swim. B and PP and DHBF, but finish at different times-- B swimming the longest –3000 yards! ‘She’s a real athlete” DHBF observes.
Uh, yeah, PP thinks to herself, wondering where her own athleticism has vanished to.

So when PP and B meet in the locker-room, happy with their eye of the storm swims, they dress and then head out to find DHBF.

He’s nowhere to be found. Not at the car. Not on the pool deck. Not in front of the building.

“I bet he’s at the fair,” PP smiles.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” B agrees, leading the way to the scary circus like situation.

PP follows with considerable trepidation. She loathes crowds. Her crowdaphobia worsens with each passing year.

But at Claremont Days, there’s a Draw. And DHBF has already found it.





Dancing Girls!
They’re on the portable stage. First tap dancers in hot pink hot pants. Then Bollywood in silks and slippers. Then more tap dancers in turquoise bellbottoms.





It’s hilarious, charming and completely unexpected.

Relief spreading over her, PP’s so glad that they were able to swim in the eye of the storm and then brave the storm of the storm to watch the Dancing Girls.

Who knew that swimming at Claremont Days could be such an entertaining venture?

PP’s pretty sure that Banana knew this.

But just didn’t let on…..

II.

Swimming in the Fast Lane

“You can swim in the Water Walking Lane till a Water Walker comes,” the New Blond Lifeguard at the Oakland Y tells PP when she arrives out on the deck, perplexed and spaced out for her Wed night swim.

WHAT!!!!???? she screams to herself. She can swim laps in the water walking lane? Since when? Has there been a change in policy?

PP can recall many a time when intense altercations occurred from some lap swimmer trespassing into the Water Walkers domain. Stringy Haired Splash Man yelling at two lifeguards, trying to convince them that “There is no Walker here! Why can I no swim here? It is ridiculous.”

But to no avail. He was booted out and banned from the pool and….

Okay, maybe not banned, but he wasn’t allowed to swim laps in the water walking lane.

So tonight, when PP is actually TOLD that she CAN swim in the forbidden lane, she shivers a little in bewildered anticipation. Should she really swim there? But yet....the lifeguard said she could and so…..

WHAT the hell ever. She does! And in she plunges, thrilled at her own lane (no one else can share; there’s a ladder for the walkers blocking the other half)

As she swims, PP revels in her good fortune. But also, isn't the forbidden always more exciting? PP feels all the other swimmers' eyes on her. What is she doing swimming in the water walkers lane? Doesn’t she know that it’s not allowed? She can hear the Group Think.

But yet, nothing happens to her. No admonishments from the lifeguards. No sudden dunking by Stringy Grey Hair Splasher when he sees her.

It’s a fantasy come true!

Plus no water walkers ever appear. PP swims and swims and swims without sharing a lane or circle swimming like everyone else.






She wants to avoid feeling smug, but yet…she does!

After, she wonders, Was it only a one time fluke? Will the same lifeguard be there next Wed and let her swim in the WWL?

Or was it all just a dream?



III.

Stick Legs

DL and PP collapse in Utopia after their respective workouts. PP still on swimmer’s cloud 9 from her privileged water walker swim.

The Africa Women are in heavy gossip mode. Diabetes Woman and her brood. They’re jabbering away, but DW always friendly, wants to include DL and PP.

“You swim?” she asks PP.
“Oh, yes….” PP grins. “Did you?”
”Me?” DW shakes her head. “No. I do machines one hour five day a week. I lose lot of weight! See?”

She pulls at the rolling folds of lose skin round her mid- section. Where’s the weight loss, PP wonders.
“79 pounds!” she exclaims, then lifts a leg up to survey. “But see?” she points at her calf, lean and thin, “Stick Leg. Africa Women. We not like Stick Leg. We like big Butts and….”





Her cohorts burst into loud giggles, slapping their non stick legs and bending over their wide bellies in utter hilarity.

DL laughs too. She’s a good audience for all of the entertainment at Utopia. PP, on the other hand, always has to make some sort of banal comment to keep the conversation rolling.
“Your legs are like that cuz that’s your body shape,” she offers. “Do you know what I mean?”
DW eyes her for a moment, considering. Then nods. “Sure, sure. The Stick Legs, they are my Body. But my butt….”
And again more giggles till DW shrugs as the lights are turned out. “Time to go, I guess,” PP observes.
DW shakes her head, “No. Time to go in Steam Room.”

And PP and DL grin as they watch the stick legs walk out of Utopia and into Steamtopia.

Epilogue

Stick legs--are they the theme? Or is it just legs in general?

Dancers' legs.
Swimmers' legs.
Africa legs.

PP is stuck on the word 'legs'---it looks really funny written out so many times. Just four little letters, but why so funny?

PP thinks it's time to go to lunch. So much leg profundity is making her hungry!

Tears in Utopia

“Hey, you have children?” Hot Tub Mama glances up at the Serene Spacey Woman sitting on the bench above her. Do they know each other? PP wonders. The question seems to come out of the blue, but after all it is HTM, the Queen of non sequiturs.

“One son,” SSW answers, eyes half closed, in deep Utopian rapture.

“How many children?” HTM repeats, demanding. Didn’t she hear SSW’s answer?

SSW opens her eyes. Stares down at HTM calmly, “One SON!” she repeats, a little louder, a little less patience.
“No daughters?” HTM’s heard the one son answer now. But it wasn’t what she was hoping for?
“ONE SON!” This time SSW shakes her head, then grins. “How about you? How many children do you have?”
“5!” HTM exclaims. “2 son. 3 daughter.”
“That’s a lot of children,” SSW observes.
“That’s a lot of problem!” HTM grunts.

All the women in Utopia chuckle. They share in HTM’s attitude.
“You?” HTM turns to PP who’s been sitting next to her, watching the show.
“Me?”
“How many children?”
PP laughs, “Zero.”
HTM raises her shaved eyebrows. “No children?”
“Nope.”
“Why not you have children?”
“I don’t like them. Or…..” PP reconsiders this response. “It’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that I don’t think I could raise them.... be responsible. It’s too much for me. And so, I unlike you, I have NO problems." PP giggles.

HTM doesn't, thinking. “My children. They need me. They use me….” Her voice trails off, quiet.

Sensing something is brewing, PP tries to offer a positive answer even though this goes against her nature. “Well, need is good, right?”
HTM is silent for a moment. Then repeats. “They use me…”
“How?” PP asks, unsure of how to wade into this children using mother territory. Is it a common Ethiopian cultural thing maybe? “Do they ask you to baby-sit their kids? Your grand kids?”

HTM shakes her head. Tears spring into her eyes. Uncontrollably. Gushing down her round brown cheeks. The other women in the sauna all look away, embarrassed. One Son Woman gets up and walks out.





PP doesn’t know what to do. It’s such a surprise. One moment it all seems like a joke. The kids are a problem. The kids are no good. The kids are a headache. Then the next minute. The kids cause copious weeping. In public. In utopia.

PP really wishes that DL were here. To witness if nothing else. But for now, PP just tries to soothe, “Ohhh…. I’m sorry…,” she mutters unhelpfully as the tears continue to pour out, cascading down down down HTM's face. Futilely HTM tries to wipe them away, but they just keep coming. An endless stream.

Damn!

Yet another piece of evidence for PP that kids are a bad idea. They make you cry in Utopia. No one should cry in Utopia!

PP repeats that she’s so sorry. HTM nods, the tears starting to abate, tries for a smile. “It okay.”
“You okay?” PP asks.
“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” PP nods, heads out of the sauna, embarrassed, helpless. Was it her fault that HTM started to cry? Should she not have pursued the questions around the kids’ using her? What could they be using HTM for that was so horrible? Were they borrowing vast sums of money and not paying it back? Were they invading her home and making her cook and clean and laundry for them while they sat back and watched ESPN? Were they running shady businesses out of HTM’s living room?





What the hell could it be?

PP will never know cuz she sure as hell isn’t gonna ask again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Later, after her shower, PP passes HTM sitting on the bench chatting amiably with the Serene Science Teacher. Like nothing had happened.

No tears.
No problems.
No kids.

Did PP imagine the whole incident? Were the tears not really there? Was HTM not really there? What was reality? What was fantasy?

What was Utopia?

A place without tears, problems or children.

At least for PP that is.