What we’ve got on the horizon here is a summer full of fun. (A HOT one — I swear I saw 98 here today, which, forgive me, but it’s still May, Philadelphia. Did you not get the memo?)
Anyway, this season, we joined “the pool.” Now, I don’t know if this is a regional thing or if it’s just a “mom” thing, but either way, it’s nothing I ever knew about before I lived here and had a kid. Where I’m from (Boston) there were no pools to join. Or, maybe there were and because we had a pool in our backyard and all our friends just came to our house to swim, we didn’t know about them. Either way, here in my town is a real live “swim club.” And it’s just as nostalgic and kitschy as it sounds.
The Who and I showed up there yesterday — to this little spot tucked way back in the woods of the pick-your-own orchards (apples, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, Christmas trees, peaches) and it’s like we were transported right to Kellerman’s (the only difference being the noticeable lack of Jews in my nabe.) There were jillions of kids, no doubt making memories that they will grow up to try to recreate with their own kids, cannonballing off the platforms, dunking their little brothers, licking popsicles on towels on the lawn. The sun pounded down, but it didn’t matter as we slathered more sunscreen on the kids and sent them back into the cold, early-season water.
I totally didn’t know what to expect, but I was charmed by the outdated bathrooms and the photos of last season’s swim team posted on a bulletin board. I was enchanted by the all-gravel-and-dirt parking spots and the fact that despite perfect cell reception, almost no one was talking on a phone. I didn’t even see an ipod anywhere. People were reading magazines. Books, even. Staring off into space. Sharing bunches of grapes with their friends. It was like summer camp, only without all the mandatory kickball, poison ivy, and long, sweaty school bus rides. It was fun. Damn.
Now, is this something people are doing all over the place? I know there are community pools in the city, but are there really delightful little “swim clubs” dotting the suburbs across the country? Or, should I be looking for the Flux Capacitor?