Howdy,
If you happen to live in a condominium complex in California, in the Central Valley region of the state, and in that complex is a community swimming pool* and in that “public” pool today there was a man swimming or sort of swimming but more so doing something strange that made you ask questions in your head, questions like, Who is that weirdo? Dork? Loner? Neat-freak nerd? Self-proclaimed pool guy?
It’s me.
The guy who was both either afraid of those leaves in the water and (or, but) willing to get in that there gross sludge water and fish ‘em out by hand (and hand basket).
That might have been what a few others at the pool, sunbathers and posers (the people actually afraid of the water ‘cause “It’s cold!” and don’t even bother to worry about leaves in the water, because they have no intention of testing the waters anyway), may have been thinking.
That, or Who is that weirdo? Dork? Loner? Neat-freak nerd? Self-proclaimed pool guy?
But I’m just a guy, a community member, scooping leaves out of the hot tub and pool before the summer swimming season has official hit and we get better, more consistent pool maintenance service.
So, I went around and pulled out all the baskets ‘round the pool that came up “choking” full of leaves to be dumped in the trash cans. That’s not too weird.
So, I used a dumped filter basket then-cleaned as a skimming net while wading in the hot tub. Sue me. For being a good guy. For getting the relaxing, not-pool-freezing, spa with jets ready for adults to enjoy a soak. Leaves swirling in the bubbling currents isn’t the romantic idea of a hot tub that patrons have in mind.
So, I put my goggles on and “swam” underwater in the hot tub to pinch the water-logged and soggy disintegrating leaves with my fingers or squeeze into my fist after tugging out of the edges of the bottom drains. Was anyone else going to do it. It was just me in the tub. Weirdo loner?
So, I took my act into the “cold pool” as my water-loving boys call it. Goggles and filter basket, and the underwater hunt was on, the whole of the complex’s common area pool open for a diving dork to take deep breathes and chase leaves stirred off the bottom if not scrapped up on the first attempt.
Breath, kick and attack. Breath, kick and attack. Breath, kick and attack. Dump the basket in a second back on the side of the pool. Breath, kick and attack. Breath, kick and attack. Breath, kick and attack.
Another pool visitor dips a toe. “That’s cold.” Who is that neat-freak nerd? The self-proclaimed pool guy or something?
I got them. Got the leaves in both the hot tub — that still had a green tint to it but looked a lot better only greenish and not bubbling green with roiling leaves — and the “refreshing” pool in which I spent a significant time submerged to round up, corral, and capture those shedding eyesores and soiling solids.
Because I’m neither afraid of those leaves in the water, as if that’s making it gross, nor above being seen diving in and swimming around with a filter basket in my hand. I grew up swimming in a pond; I’m not turned off from aquatic adventure by some green water or some natural slime.
Still, if I can keep our pool clean and clear, I’ll take it take that way these days. I’ll make it that way, ‘cause I’m that seemingly neat-freak self-proclaimed pool guy. So, why not? I just enjoyed the hunt, like the old days of chasing water wildlife around in the property pond, and it’s not like I was a weirdo in a Speedo. I don’t do that, so, there’s nothing to worry about.
At times I may be all those things: weirdo; dork; loner; neat-freak; nerd; self-proclaimed pool guy — not to mention strikingly handsome and good at the grill.
But who’s that? Just a guy in board shorts fishing for debris making the pool a better place for us all. Today, that’s me.
So, me.
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
*And if there’s not a swimming pool in the common area, move. That’s what I say. Sheesh, it’s the Central Valley, for goodness sake. But somehow it’s not as big of a deal to everyone. (Those that enjoy the crispy hot, I guess.) I can not understand that, though. Why wouldn’t one want to have and use a pool? It’s worth keeping clean, for everyone: especially me.
Word Count: 109,204 / On Pace: 107,250 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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