Musing on attitudes at the pool. You look Marvelous.
“Hi, Andy.”
Andy is a huge Alabama fan and the last time I swam in the afternoon was the day of National Championship game.
“Congratulations,” I said. For in the South we congratulate people if “their” team wins as if they were in uniform on the field throwing the ball around.
Then I had a bit of panic.
Did Alabama win? They did win didn’t they?
I couldn’t for the life of me remember if they indeed won.
“Yes, they did,” Andrew replied. “Quite handily.”
That’s why I was at the pool. If I needed to dunk my head in water to clear the fog — I might as well get some exercise.
I got in my lane and did my workout.
The older guy to my left was smoking fast (for an older guy.) Then to my great relief I saw he was wearing huge scuba-type fins.
There were two older women to my right. They exercised up and down the lane.
I’m not by any means an extroverted swimmer, but if I’m kicking with the board and make eye contact with another pool participant, I only think it civil to smile, nod, or give some recognition that they are another human.
I swam and tried to enjoy it. Tried to squash thoughts how my shoulders will never rotate like they should on the backstroke and how my chest never seems to pop out of the water like the aqua queens.
I got done and went to the locker room.
While getting dressed, I heard the two older women come in.
And one remarked to the other, “That was Marveloouusss.” The word went on for about 10 syllables and was as rich, deep and melodic as a banana split on a July evening.
Her marvelous resonated over and over in my head. I wish I had it recorded.
I’d play it and swim in it.
She didn’t look like she was haven’t all that much more fantastical fun than me. Heck, even pokey me lapped her constantly. (Yes, I live to lap octogenarians at the Aquatics Center.)
But she was having a marrrveelllouusss time.
So am I — next time.
For it’s up to me you know.
