04 August 2010
I love swimming. If it were my choice, I would spend every waking moment in the pool. No, I don't have one, but I live right across the street from my community pool. It is open for approximately eight hours every day beginning the end of June to the Labor Day in September. This will be the last summer we have this pool. It will be demolished in the Fall. The city feels that it cannot keep up the costs for maintenance. I believe that the problem is the city doesn't make a profit from the pool. For other sports, teams require permits which create revenue for the city Parks Department. Most community pools are free so they become a liability. Many have tried to petition this action by the city, but to no avail. My community is comprised of individuals in the low income stratum. I suppose our taxes do not generate enough income for the city to maintain the pool. It's sad really. I never get to go swimming anymore but most of the neighborhood children rely on the pool as a relief from the heat and as a form of exercise. I really hate the underlying sociopolitical issues that cause dissension in the city.
I also will really miss swimming.
After work, I park my car on the block adjacent to the community pool. When I exit the car, I stand and stare at the clear blue water, the small rolling breakers and the beads of sunlight glistening off the crests of the waves. I begin to contemplate how and when I can sneak over to the pool just for a little dip. Unfortunately, the long list of "To Do's," from cooking dinner to caring for children, interrupt my happy thoughts and I realize that I have no time for swimming today or any other day. I lock the car and trudge miserably to my apartment.
I really do miss swimming.
Everyday after all my duties as mother and wife are fulfilled, I longingly look out my window and observe the fun and frolicking that occurs. I hear the whistle of the lifeguard sound as a warning to those violating the pool rules. I smell the chlorine that permeates the air and envelopes the edifices like a blanket. I can feel the moist, humid air caress my skin and whisper, "Come on over. You won't regret it."
Did I mention that I really miss swimming?