Water, water, everywhere.....

I am surrounded by pools. They are everywhere. Big, clear, and inviting - they taunt me.
From my second floor window I can see 3 of them in the yards behind and beside me. The beckon and cajole. They call my name. But they are not serious.

Behind me is a beautiful built-in pool with elaborate stone work and one of those lazy pool snake things that is supposed to move around and keep it clean. But it doesn't move and the water is kind of green and murky-looking. In the 2 years I have lived here, nobody, EVER, swims in that pool. People live there - I can hear them, fighting, yelling, partying, yakking on the phone. But they walk AROUND the pool. They sit BESIDE the pool. They are NEVER, ever, IN the pool.

Kitty-corner behind me is another one. This pool is one of those molded things that was dropped into a hole in the ground. It is pristine and very blue. It is plain and not gussied up. It is surrounded by dirt. The original owners used it - usually late at night. But the new owners put a wrought iron fence around it and walked away. It stays clean. It stays pristine and inviting. But - it stays empty. Even their big black DOG can't get at it. He lays next to the sliding glass door, tongue hangning out, panting. But he can't go in the pool. It seems NOBODY can.

Next door is a family with 3 teenagers. The yard has never been landscaped. It is barren dirt and weeds - with a doughboy pool perched right in the middle. Every week some guy comes buy in a white truck to "take care" of the pool. I have seen the boys in the pool once and the mom once. The girl - never. The dad? Nope. It stands there amid the desert beseeching for swimmers. Nobody comes.

I work with several teachers who OWN pools. I was unabashed and unashamed to let them know that I envied them and that I REALLY LIKE TO GO INTO POOLS. They all say the same thing: "Come by anytime!" But they never call to invite me. They never write. And I am too self-conscious to just call them up and ask. (Phone phobia is not good at times like this.)

So I stand there on my little deck outside my bedroom looking at these pools and thinking about injustice. No, I didn't go into debt to get one of them. No, I didn't put up with pool contractors and loan officers and large earth moving equipment to get a pool. I didn't have to put up with some cheesy sign planted in my front yard announcing the construction of "yet another" pool by this very over-worked and over-priced company. So I can't say that I BLAME these people. Not really.

But sheesh. Here I am, willing to USE their pools, dog-paddling away, displacing a bit of water while they do whatever it is they do as they ignore their pools in this record-breaking heat. I am willing to love their pools, appreciate their pools, ENJOY their pools while they turn a blind eye to them.

It is some kind of cosmic torture - the unfairness of the world laid out before me, like dogs and kids with noses pressed against the glass, yearning to be free - an unable to get past the screen door.

Yes, I could go to the PUBLIC pool and swim with hundreds of screaming children. Yes, screaming. They don't swim, they scream. I deal with children all school year. I don't need them SCREAMING in my ear as I swim. I just don't.

I can go to my health club. I can endure the embarrassment as I walk from the locker room to the pool in my bike shorts and halter - AS IF I could get this fat butt into a bathing suit. But there is some kind of foamy stuff on the top of this pool. And there is some strange guy who swims back and forth and stares at me while I do the same. I've read too many true crime novels, I guess. And bacteria? Let's not go there.

Pools, pools, everywhere - and not a one for swimming.