Back in the day, my parents bought a family season pass to the Palisade Swimming Pool and for a span of glorious summers my brother, Jake, and I went swimming pretty much every day.
Among the games we played there –– besides Get into a Fight and Threaten to Go Home and that swimming pool standard, Goad Your Brother into Doing a Belly Flop off the Diving Board with Promises of Candy Later, so He Does it but Surfaces Crying and You Feel Terrible (he’s my younger brother) –– was Name that Tune.
Hanging onto the wall at the north side of the deep end, we plunged underwater at the same time, alternately singing a song or trying to guess what the song was.
I can only imagine how this must have looked from the surface –– there go those weird Sauer kids again –– but under the surface it was big fun. And we managed to name that tune with surprising accuracy!
The point being, I haven’t played Palisade Swimming Pool Name that Tune in a long time, so I’m wondering what equivalent summer fun I might be having now.
As a kid, running around screaming for no reason is fun. Getting spritzed with the hose is fun (until it isn’t, and then tears). Finding a stick and bringing it inside is fun. Jumping off the curb is fun.
I’m not saying these same things wouldn’t be fun now, but running around screaming for no reason takes on significantly different meaning as an adult. Brows get furrowed and police get called.
So, am I having equivalent summer fun, deep into the wilds of adulthood as I am? I’m happy to report that yes, I believe I am, only the games are different, including:
Don’t Share the Ice Cream: Anyone who says that food shared tastes sweeter has never had Bunny Tracks with extra peanut butter sauce. They’ve never had all of it, that is.
Go for a Bike Ride but Turn Around if I Feel Like It: Among my favorite things to do is ride my bike at a leisurely pace, and I’m generally content to ride and ride. But sometimes I realize about a mile from home that I’m just not into it, and I turn around. Because I feel like it.
Impulsively Dig Up Bushes: I did this the other day, seized with a sudden impatience for how ugly, scraggly and overall underwhelming these dumb bushes were.
And let me tell you, it is very satisfying to snatch up a shovel and start digging without any kind of plan or vision for the future.
Granted, by bush No. 4 I got a little tired of digging and tried to wrench it from the ground, and now my back kind of hurts, plus I haven’t figured out what to do with a bunch of bush carcasses, but still: I regret nothing.
Buy an Unnecessary Pair of Cheap Plastic Flip-Flops: They were half price, they had polka dots –– like I wasn’t supposed to buy them?
Take a Stayin’ Alive: This is what I call a walk while listening to music, another of my favorite things to do. And in my head I’m Tony Manero at the beginning of “Saturday Night Fever,” so my walks are really more struts and who cares if anyone sees me? I don’t know those yokels.
Quality Test Outdoor Gear: By “outdoor gear” I mean the hammock, and by “quality test” I mean read until I fall asleep.
Let a Moth in the House on Purpose: First, I let one in the house accidentally and the cats LOVED it. Probably I don’t want to think too deeply about what it means for my mental state or karma that I watched my cats gleefully chase this poor insect and then eat it (well, one of them ate it and growled at the other for getting too close), or that I felt sorry for the cat that didn’t get to eat it so I opened the screen door and let another moth in.
I also can’t guarantee I won’t do it again.
Drive into the Gloaming: Sky all gold and fuchsia, window down, warm onrush of summer air, music playing, no destination… if that’s not heaven I don’t know what is.
I think younger Rachel at the swimming pool with her brother might agree.
Rachel Sauer is at rs81501@gmail.com and doesn’t mind looking like a weirdo at the swimming pool, if you’re interested in a rousing round of Name that Tune.
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Let the summer games begin for no reason other than fun (and ice cream!) - The Grand Junction Daily Sentinel
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