Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Water, water, everywhere, and even the boards did shrink ... water, water everywhere, but nary a drop to drink!
Today's sermon: Going for a Swim?
I don't know if it's easier living in the best house in a poor neighborhood, or the worst house in a fancy neighborhood. I actually have the latter, and it don't come easy.
Most communities have public pools where you pay a couple of bucks for a swim. Here in Snobville, you've got to belong to a swim club. Swim clubs require big bucks. However, sometimes they try to maximize the profit margin by offering August-only memberships to lesser mortals. (Here in New Jersey, many towns empty out in August as everyone goes downa shore.)
Yesterday I called Snobville's three swim clubs to see about an August-only membership.
Club #1: Sorry, no. We have a waiting list.
Club #2: Yes, it costs $500.00. We don't have a half-season rate.
Manager: Um, do you know anyone who belongs to Segregation Swim?
Anne: I've lived in Snobville for 20 years, so I suppose I do. No one springs to mind.
Manager: Well, here's how it works. You have to get two endorsements in writing from valid members of Segregation Swim. Once we have those, you fill out an application. When that's approved, you can pay the fee and come swim with us.
(long pause as Anne tries to think of some perfect put-down)
Manager: If you've lived in Snobville for so long, I'm sure you could just come here and look around, and you'd recognize someone. They could fill out the form right on the spot for you.
Anne: Thanks so much, you've been ever so kind.
Nice restraint, huh? Actually my mind just went blank, and I couldn't think of anything sufficiently nasty to say.
Where I grew up we had many inexpensive or free options for swimming. There were swimmin holes, of course. There were also two mountain lakes, $3.00 for a carload (before the days when everyone had to be strapped into a seatbelt). And there was the municipal pool. It had recently integrated, and many white mothers wouldn't let their kids go there anymore. Some days it was pretty much me, my cousin Ray, and a bunch of very happy black kids, scattered throughout a big-ass pool with slides.
So I'm not used to having to pay a hefty fee or get character endorsements in order to loll in a friggin swimming pool.
Damned plumber. Why did he have to fix the leaky pipe in the basement? I had a lovely pool right downstairs, but now it's gone.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS