so tomorrow I'll be heading over to the geriatric home where I'll be {possibly} em-ceeing the evening Karaoke hour. that'll be interesting. and how did that happen you ask? well, I'm an avid eavesdropper with a keen imagination. as i wiled away time at the wholefood's cafe recently i chanced upon a gaggle of swimmers, women of various ages, whose one connection is that they religiously swim in the icy cold waters of Barton Springs 'pool'. it's no more a pool than I'm a midget but here I'm learning to let people call things what they want. for instance the street, "manor" is pronounced may-ner...and i wouldn't care except I'm the one trying to spell it out for google maps which i think is in cahoots with big oil as it keeps taking me on the most circuitous routes and i need to stop for gas every forty-five minutes. at any rate Barton Springs is as it's name suggests, a spring and an icy one. the first time i swam in it was about three years ago with my friend Beth who met me here from her home town of Santa Barbara. we lounged about the grassy banks until i was too warm to idle. i stepped down a ladder into the water, which, number one i hate. who decided that ladders are reasonable way to get into a pool? when the water's cold the best solution is to just jump. yes, you may risk heart attack but all things, {as i experience them} being entirely unequal, you knew that before you got to this point, no?
Beth does not care for humidity and thought maybe she too should join the fun. i warned her. she must not have heard me. "it's very cold, very." Beth jumped. i don't know what to say here....her eyes bulged, she flailed a bit as though the loch ness monster had touched her inner thigh and tele-ported her frozen body out of the water where she instantaneously stood 'pool-side' glaring at me as if i had personally got up in the middle of the night with a bunch of dwarves and cupful by cupful dumped crushed ice into the spring. sheer betrayal.
anyway, that's where these women swim, year round. god bless their hearty souls. they'd gathered for the first time ever to participate in a christmas gift exchange where round table they took turns introducing themselves, work-wise, their passions. i over heard one woman saying she needed a singer for her elderly sing-a-long but before i could whip my head around another woman spoke up to say she was a singer...dammit all, when will I get to be in the circus? long story short i ended up meeting the 'gals', some of them, and through that connection i am about to embark on a magical jounney or glorious failure, both closely related.
thanks for tuning in and good night.
Comments