Swimmingly

I grew up on the water. Literally. Walked right out our door to the Snake River winding by. 

When I was four we moved to a town in N. Idaho. 

It was hot there. 

Hundred-Teens in the summer. 

Still very close to the Snake River. Made it there nearly every summer weekend. I was a very tan kid, after I laid down my blistery base burn. (It was a different time.)

Multiple neighbors had pools. We were surrounded. I took swimming lessons a few blocks from our house.

We also hung at the public pool pretty frequently. Where this cool dude named, Brody, (or maybe Bodie?) would do flips off the high dive. All while we stared in awe eating our Firecracker Popsicles. 

I have so many questions now that I am an adult. Was his name really Brody? What ever happened to him? Who was covering the insurance at a public pool with a high dive? 

We had a HydroTube too. I hated it there. After I almost drowned multiple times. I don't think that was rare. Likely why you don't see any HydroTubes today. 

And then, one of my moms best friends, put in a pool. I was maybe six. I vividly remember sitting on their deck, head against the spindles, legs swinging below me, watching every step. My love of three things combined. Construction, projects and water. 

We spent a lot of afternoons over there. Hawaiian Tropic, Chlorine. It's where I learned how delicious light beer and Oreos is. Trust me. It's delicious. Bigger than that, I knew I wanted one of those. 

A pool.

One of many reasons I really wanted to buy our home, later named, Stella Mae, was the size of the yard. Enough room for a pool. A good number of people thought I was crazy. A pool in Oregon? It's not that hot. It's plenty warm. And, it's not like the earth is getting colder... 

2020 was the year. Then it wasn't. We couldn't get drawings done, offices were closed. We would not be swimming in 2020. In October we finally got our drawings, approved the bid and Griswald style, I put my bonus down as the deposit. 

Today I cannonball’d into our pool. More than once. 

It’s not officially finished. The lights aren’t hooked up, I can’t close the cover, there’s no heat. But, the chemicals are balanced. The salt is perfect and the robot is busy vacuuming. 

It’s oddly warm in the Pacific Northwest and a perfect day to practice my under water handstands and somersaults.

After 39 years, the pool is open.

Red Rope

Barley.

 On the day we found out our pool is going to be weeks delayed, agreed a first world problem, but still annoying to have a very expensive crater in our backyard, and our sprinkler system computer croaked -  replacement on the way - I was in a mood.

We've got baseball tickets tonight. Season opener.

Wife, having had an equally frustrating but different day, said, "we have to have an attitude adjustment or we aren't going to have any fun tonight."

"We will have fun. We will drink beer and eat red vines and have all the fun."

In other news, I graduated from Invisalign today and into a permanent retainer. I'm really looking forward to eating without having to remove my 'teeth'. 

At the stadium, fresh Hops cap procured, I head to the concession stand. I can see the red vines. All coiled, deliciousness visible, I ordered a $9 beer and a red vine.

The cashier, confused, it's opening night, in Covid, they're all new, looked for the 'red vine' button.

"I can't find the button. Anyone know where the red vines button is?"

They all stared. Blankly.

"Um, I can see them. Right there. It's all I really want."

"There's no button for them."

Push the hotdog button and hand me a red vine... I'm certain, even with my hat, sun glasses and mask, he could read my face.

He stared at me. I stared back, trying not to blink, he held out, "fine... I'll just take the beer."

I walked to my seat. Defeated.

Cue my very long monologue to my audience of two.

After I finished my beer, I returned to the concession stand, "you guys figure out the red vines situation?"

"No."

"You're killing me."

Blank stares.

They've covered the red vines with bags of potato chips. But, I know they're there. We all know they're there!

I walked across the concourse, seeking out another stand. Stood in line for 10 minutes reviewing the menu options.

No red ropes.

But, Cracker Jack!

"I'll take a beer and a Cracker Jack", I said as I pulled my card out.

"This line is cash only."

I looked up and around, "there is not sign."

"Sorry."

Deep breath. Deep breath. Do not lose your ever loving mind over Cracker Jacks.

Walked over to the next window. 

Waited in line.

"You take cards?"

"Yes."

Whew.

"Great, I'll take a beer and a Cracker Jack."

"We don't have Cracker Jack at this window."

Mother*%$*ingSonofaB*&^%$.

"Just the beer then."

In good news, I got a photo with Barley, my wife found me some Cracker Jack and the Hops won. I also challenged, and likely beat some kids in a hill rolling contest on the way out of the stadium. I'm not saying that it was a bad idea to hill roll after 36 ounces of beer but I'm not saying it was a good idea either. An hour later, I'm still dizzy and perhaps a little sloshy.

And, yes, there is a video. 

For another time.

My wife. My hero.