Swimming

   There are two activities in life that bring me right back to childhood: riding a bicycle and swimming. As kids, my brothers and I spent countless hours doing both. (Sadly, never at the same time. Oh, well... that would have been a good one.) The local community pool was our #1 hang out all summer long. Not only were we on the swim team, our Mom was a lifeguard and swim teacher. We would all head down to the pool at, like, 7am and not come home until dinner time. At least that's what I remember.
  The day would start with Mom teaching swimming lessons. I would sometimes get to help teach in the baby pool. It was more like baby-sitting in shallow water, but I always felt like a grown up when I got to do this. I was probably 9 or 10 at the time. Little bitty kids are big on pooping in the pool. I guess that's what all the chlorine was for. And the pee, of course. (The baby pool was a scary place.)
  By summers end my brothers and I had hair the color of fresh hay...I miss that. I also miss the wonderful smell of your skin, all chlorine-y and warm with sun.
  At noon, everyone had to get out of the pool for an hour, so the swim team could practice. Lap after lap after lap... backstroke, breaststroke, butterfly, freestyle. That was our life for the summer. Expectations were high, too. We all wanted the Blue Ribbon, first place. I still have a bunch of my old ribbons in a box somewhere. Lots of blue, red and white.
 After swim team practice, we would have some lunch, sit out for awhile so we would avoid cramps, and dive back in to play for hours. Once the general public was allowed into the pool, it was mayhem. The sound of all those screaming, splashing kids... Mom's whistle blowing "No Running" every 5 minutes... the big kids jumping off the high dive... a beautiful cacophony.
  On nights when there was a swim meet, Mom would fix us the same meal... chipsteak and cottage cheese. The cottage cheese was served with a half of a canned peach, a dollop of mayonnaise and paprika sprinkled on top. We would have to eat early, like 4pm or so. During the swim meet, about halfway through, we were allowed to get some jello from the snack counter. Sometimes Mom would have a chocolate bar that she would snap pieces off of to give us, or she would give us whipped honey by the spoonful. It was all about protein and energy to keep us going into the long night of competition. My favorite part was at the end of your race when Mom or Dad would be at the end of the pool with a towel to wrap you up in. We were always treated like winners, no matter what.
  There were games we played under water. My girlfriends and I would go under water, look at each other and say something. You would try to guess what the other kid was saying. We would crack each other up. We would hide from each other, like hide and seek, only under water. Mostly I enjoyed being on my own, pretending I was a dolphin, zooming in and out, all around, under water... trying not to run into anyone's legs. When you got tired, it was a treat to lay out on the hot cement, the sounds of summer going off all around you. I loved watching the drops of water run off my face onto the cement, real close up, drying almost instantly. And the smell of the warm, wet cement..... those summer smells that are right there, waiting in your memory bank.
   Bad things happened, too. My older brother, David, almost drowned one summer. He and a pal were playing "who can swim the furthest under water on one breath". After being spotted lying at the bottom of the deep end, he was pulled to safety, and the paramedics were called. He ended up in the hospital for a couple of days, and it was very touch and go. We stayed at Grandmas, waiting to hear what was happening, too young to understand how very serious it really was. He was lucky, and we all live with that scary memory.
  One summer, I had a job cleaning the pool at night, after everyone went home. I must have been 14 or 15. I would have the whole place to myself, and even got to go into the boys showers. It was fun, and scary, too. I could totally creep myself out... all those mirrors and lockers. I enjoyed being able to go "night swimming" all by myself, with the lights turned off. That was when I really could be a dolphin. That gig all ended one night when a bunch of older boys showed up. They ruined everything. I was ok, but from the small hill above, they threw big rocks and bottles at me, and into the pool, glass breaking everywhere. I had to call the police. Looking back, it was the end of childhood, in a way, for me. I haven't thought about that night in a very long time, and don't remember what happened afterwards.
  I still love to play in the water, but don't get the chance very often. I tried doing the adult swimming thing at the local college and sports clubs. Talk about taking the fun out of it... I just can't get into swimming laps anymore. I guess it's all those years of doing it as a kid. The last time I got into the water for some good, clean fun, was in 2008, at the cabin. A short, sweet little splash around in the creek. Before that, it was 2006, in Vernazza, Italy.
  We had enjoyed a raucous evening with some locals. What a party... food, wine, some crazy homemade grappa, big old bon fire, hours of incomprehensible Italian...Big Fun. The next morning, before the sun came up, we were still buzzing from the experience. Vernazza is located on the Ligurian coast, the Mediterranean Sea right there. We headed down to the water's edge before sunrise, Johnny worried he may have to save me, God forbid, and me all excited to swim before the sun came up. It was awesome. I thank my dear friend Tasha for this once in a lifetime experience. She had done something similar, and her story stuck in my mind.
  While Johnny watched from a safe distance (he does not swim), I stripped down to my undies and dove off a big rock. The water was cold, dark, and wonderful on my skin.... all of my years as a dolphin came rushing back to me and I felt that freedom you only get to feel when you are 10 years old and it is summertime.