Saturday, February 15, 2025

More dribblings from the deep end.


I know there are some around me who will claim I’ve gone totally off the deep end. Not true. Okay, okay, I have my doolalley days but for the most part I’m mostly, kinda, sorta, possibly all there. Or somewhere nearby. 

I do enjoy my exercise routine in the deep end of the community pool at the Marshall Center. Despite Carolyn’s claims that I am just “mucking about in the water ogling the lady lifeguards,” there is serious intent to “build up my core.” Whatever that may mean. Ogling? C'mon. Really? Ogling a definite no. Appreciating. An innocent yes. 

Earlier, I wrote about the Deep End Divas who circle in the middle of the area like baby sharks chumming for minnows and talk about all manner of important topics like their hair, their nails and their bitch of a daughter-in-law. Occasionally, I hear them giggle and even laugh out loud and I’m tempted to paddle close to overhear what’s so damn funny. (Satan, keep thee behind me)
Today, as I was mucking about ogling the lifeguards (oops, I mean building up my core) I saw a young snorkel thrasher, semi-intent on swimming some unrealistic number of laps from my end to the far end and back. Before long, the open area in the middle of the lane I was M . . .king about in was occupied by a not unattractive young woman, also swimming laps. (albeit in a much more relaxed fashion)
    Now, I should admit that “young” is a rather liquid term in my codger vocabulary. It basically means anyone without grey hair and washboard wrinkly skin. Anyone who thinks "the sixties" is the temperature range between "the fifties" and "the seventies." The two principals of this anecdote were probably mid to late 30’s. Or possibly 40’s. Or even early 50’s. I’ve gotten very bad at guestimating age.
To make a long story short, (too late, I’m thinking) they stopped and talked at one end of the pool, smiling, gesturing and laughing. It was evident they’d just met. Soon, they were paddling back and forth alongside each other, the length of the lane and back.
    I felt like I’d just watched the opening “cute meet” episode of a Rom Com. Or the beginning of "The Love Boat." Funny, sticky sweet and predictable. Next thing you know they’d be living together, buying an espresso machine and talking about how many kids they wanted to have. Or maybe they’d just hook up. Who knows?
People watching is an added bonus when building your core. An observation about lap swimmers. There are two basic kinds. Gliders, who stroke silently and powerfully for extended periods of time and use a narrow alley of water and Thrashers, who yank their arms and legs out of the water and after throwing them to the side, slap them back down on the surface. Or onto another swimmer, whichever is closest. Their philosophy is “Hey, I’m swimmin’ here! Get outa my way!!!” One of those attractive lady lifeguards will one day have to referee a fistfight.
        One other note on a totally unrelated topic. (A distasteful dripping from my leaky brain pan.) The information age is a wonderful thing. Except when the information is something you really didn’t want or need to know. Like the latest thing the drooling eedjit in the White House has said or done for example.
        I’ve become addicted to googling anything that triggers my curiosity. For example; after cooking up a batch of my favorite New Mexican recipe for a red chile pork and hominy stew called posole, I began wondering what it’s roots were. So, I did what I always and searched online.  
        Its beginnings were with the Incas who revered the food as having spiritual significance. Traditionally, after one of their periodic human sacrifices, they’d whip up a batch to consecrate the ritual and celebrate the life of the late sacrificee. (If you’re squeamish you may want to skip the next part). The meat they used was not pork, as in my recipe. They used (ooh, ick) whatever was close at hand. Waste not, want not.
        Well, that’s about it for now. Time to crawl out of the water and go muck-about on the official curmudgeon recliner. With luck, maybe a lifeguard will pass by.

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