What a summer, am I right, guys? It was a hot one! And remember that cold snap where almost no one came to visit me? That was weird. But for the most part, tons of laughs, lots of fun and barrels of good times at me, your city’s public pool.
With Labor Day now come and gone and summer “officially” over, I wanted to take some time to reflect on this year, share my thoughts and maybe give a few tips for improvement next year.
Listen, I’m just a pool. I know that. Sometimes I can be shallow. Sometimes I can be deep. (Sorry, a little pool humor. Kills at the annual conventions). So I’m not here to preach to anyone. Especially since, as pools go, I’m fairly young. As you probably remember, I was built in 1983 when you guys realized the old city pool was now in a “bad” neighborhood and it was time to make a new one in the new “nice” neighborhood. But not too nice a neighborhood. It was a really special plot you guys found. On what used to be an old video store you dug me a hole and put me in. Close enough to the rich part of town, far enough away from the old. Near the ice rink. Oldest story in the book. And I was so much better than the old pool. Clean. Modern. Two diving boards. Snack shop. It was great.
But now look at me! Twenty years, dude. Yeah, I said I was young but let’s not kid ourselves. Most public pools look like hell after ten. So let’s get down to brass tacks. I want to stay around. I want you to be swimming in me for twenty more years. But we all know that’s going to take some care and effort on BOTH our parts. So here’s what I’m going to work on for next summer:
I will do my best to change up the snack shack menu. Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch the classics but isn’t it time we stop having to smell those weird peanuts? It’s 2013, no one’s buying a bag of lukewarm peanuts.
I’m also going to do my best to fix the PA system. Who am I kidding? There hasn’t been an important announcement blasted across that thing since… never. But it’d be nice to not have 2,000 decibels of garbled teenager blast your ears, followed by a screech and the thunderclap clunk of the mic turning off, every time a toddler loses his mommy. I get that and I’ll work on it.
The scratchy pool floor. I’ve heard a lot of complaints about this one lately and I read you loud and clear. But you gotta see it from my end, too. I used to be smooth. I love smooth! Every winter I’d get a nice Brazilian job in the ‘80s. But we got complaints about that, too. So now, for safety, I get resurfaced during the winter. And it sucks for me, too! It feels like I’m wearing a wig. Underwater. All summer. Can you imagine wearing a toupee in this heat?! Scratch that, it’s more like a merkin. And it’s disgusting.
OK. Those are some things I’ll be working on but I only think it’s fair that you realize that maybe you could improve a thing, here or there, too. Let’s not call them demands but… requests. So, over the winter, maybe give these ideas some thoughts and come back in May and we’ll have a powwow.
I know it’s hack but c’mon with the kids and the peeing in the pool. I’m a professional swimming pool, people. Do you think the Olympic pools have to deal with this stuff? OK, sure, Michael Phelps but he’s an anomaly. Seriously, don’t let your kids pee in me. Do I come over to your place of fun and pee in your mouth? Well, I guess I kinda do if you ever go swimming in me…
Also, listen, I know times are tough. And swimming pools have never been the hospitals and high-end corporations that demand the best talent. But please, for the love of God, stop sending me your teenagers to “staff” me. Do you have ANY idea what they do here? I’ll give you a hint! It rhymes with “nothing”!
Unless you count “abusing the snack shack” and “abusing each other” as valid workplace behavior. I saw Zander abusing Anna in some way I can’t even describe. He was behind her, she was making this awful noise… But I digress. Your kids suck. And when the people that take care of you are worthless, I become worthless. And I don’t want to be worthless. I want to be your pool forever. Happy non-summer, guys. I’ll see you next year. Unless you turn me into a parking lot.