I found this large metal ball at a local junk shop. It looks to be some sort of device found floating along the waterfront. When I saw it, I thought about going to our YMCA and learning to swim. Being a paperboy, I got a free membership, but all I wanted to do was get in the water and swim. I remember lots of things about going to those Wednesday night classes with my friends. The beginning program was led by Mr. Golden and were loaded with excitement and frightening moments for me. One special memory was the evening we were taught how to do the backstroke. I remember floating, back and forth, the length of the pool just staring at the blue, iron gridwork of the ceiling. I thought it was so amazingly easy to to do. When I flew in the door that night after swimming practice, Mom got the long, drawn out, stroke by stroke version of my first adventure on my back in water. I wonder if she was excited for me as I was retelling the events to her? Knowing her, I bet she was.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A Floater
I found this large metal ball at a local junk shop. It looks to be some sort of device found floating along the waterfront. When I saw it, I thought about going to our YMCA and learning to swim. Being a paperboy, I got a free membership, but all I wanted to do was get in the water and swim. I remember lots of things about going to those Wednesday night classes with my friends. The beginning program was led by Mr. Golden and were loaded with excitement and frightening moments for me. One special memory was the evening we were taught how to do the backstroke. I remember floating, back and forth, the length of the pool just staring at the blue, iron gridwork of the ceiling. I thought it was so amazingly easy to to do. When I flew in the door that night after swimming practice, Mom got the long, drawn out, stroke by stroke version of my first adventure on my back in water. I wonder if she was excited for me as I was retelling the events to her? Knowing her, I bet she was.
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Love that shot of the float and your narrative again.
ReplyDeleteCostas
Beautiful Birdman!
ReplyDeleteune belle histoire avec ce flotteur
ReplyDeleteSuch beauty in an odd object. Great memories of your swimming lessons.
ReplyDeleteIt has been interesting to me to follow your narratives. Objects that you find in your current life seem to grab hold of your memory of good times in the past. Your mother sounds like a patient and loving parent.
ReplyDeleteI bet she was proud of you!!
ReplyDelete. I wonder if she was excited for me as I was retelling the events to her? Knowing her, I bet she was.
ReplyDeleteTelling comment - Sounds like you had a pretty cool mom.
Brilliant.
ReplyDeleteanother sweet boyhood memory!
ReplyDeleteNeat old ball. I like the rust. :)
ReplyDeleteSuch connections you make!
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing how some item discovered and recover so many memories. And I'm glad to see you're finally on the ball! :-)
ReplyDeleteI remember putting my head back in the water, kicking out and propelling myself along on my back. It was as you say, easy, and gave me, a terribly nervous swimmer, confidence in the water.
ReplyDeleteA great find, that weathered metal orb--As was your blog during my checking out other town photo/story profiles.
ReplyDeleteWhat a charming story. I can imagine the expression on your face. My parents sent me to swimming lessons at, of all places, a pool in an office building in midtown Manhattan. Whatever floats.
ReplyDeletethats an awesome picture birdman
ReplyDelete