Some people are BORN TO RUN. Some are BORN TO BE WILD. Some are even BORN TO BUY FABRIC (like Suzanne). I was BORN TO BE BIPOLAR. I probably won’t be making a silly t-shirt or bumper sticker about it though. I joke around about my escapades in lunacy, but I also take my brain’s mood pendulum seriously. While combing through photos, in an effort to learn more about my brain’s life, I made a discovery. In pix of me as a child, I wasn’t usually smiling bigly, animatedly, or even cheesily– the way most kids do. Even as a kid, I carried a hidden darkness. I was around 6 months old in this photo, which shows me wearing an almost-smile. This is a rare snapshot of 1964-baby-HEW coming close to actually showing a happy, bigly smile as a kid.
[NOTE: Not only do I think I was born with my crazy head, I know I was born with my Spock ear. See, it’s there atop my left ear.]
Bow-tied Bow Tie o’ the Day is helping me act out on some infantile ridiculousness this afternoon. I admit it: The 1964-baby-HEW is jealous of the newest baby in the Wright clan, Grace Anne Blackwelder. I’ve been posting so many pix of her, and posts about her, that 1964-baby-HEW has developed a severe case of jealousy. In my family, it’s all about Gracie right now. “Gracie! Gracie! Gracie!” I’m even jealous of all the attention I, myself, pay to Gracie. I childishly believe Gracie has thrown down the pacifier-gauntlet, and now the baby duel is on. 1964-baby-HEW v. Baby Grace Anne. I’m cheering for Gracie. I want her to win.
That’ll make 1964-baby-HEW even more jealous. And thus, the infantile, bitter absurdity of the life of babies goes on. Just kidding. 😁🤣
Tie o’ the Day was given to me by my bro–in-law, Nuk. I think of it as a summer tie, or more specifically, a tie for the water. Tie’s wearer can blow it up on one end, which makes it a safety tie one can wear with a life jacket. Air-filled Tie can also be Skitter’s floatie, as is seen here.
I mentioned Delta’s old outdoor swimming pool in one of yesterday’s posts, and the topic got some of you reminiscing about “old pool love” right along with me.
The long-demolished Delta pool was set on the corner of the property where The Sands is currently located. Its structure was basic: a swimming pool, with a single diving board; an office and dressing rooms. In the office, you could buy chips, sodas, candy, and Popsicles from Arjanna Wood, who ran the joint. I guess you could say Arjanna’s office was Delta’s first convenience store.
The pool was surrounded by tall cinder block walls. I’m just guessing the walls were somewhere in the ballpark of 10-feet tall. I never took time out of the fun I was having to measure the pool wall height.
I remember waiting anxiously every year for the city to get the word the Utah Health Department had once again declared the pool sanitary and safe enough to be opened for at least one more summer. The state’s annual stamp o’ approval quit happening in the mid-70’s. To be honest, the Health Department probably should have closed down the open-air pool we dearly loved long before it did. But I’m glad they didn’t. The slippery, cracked place was a blast. It was a palace to those of us who made it a second home for the summer.
The city’s “cement pond” was also a blast after dark when it wasn’t officially open. Think about it: Outdoor pools can’t really close. It wasn’t difficult to sneak in after dark. Ropes, ladders, milk crates, even backhoes were just a few implements we used to get ourselves inside for a midnight swim. You simply had to make sure you pulled your break-in tools over the wall with you, eliminating your outside-the-wall trail.
I know one doofus and his group of friends who threw a ladder against the outside wall and didn’t pull it in after everyone snuck inside. The cop out on patrol saw that clue right away. Doh! Heck, I watched a herd of at least a dozen kids ride their bikes to the pool around 2 in the morning, and then were dough-headed enough to leave their bikes piled up outside one of the pool walls. Cop noticed the mound o’ bikes. Hey, people, if you’re going to commit a prank, don’t tell on yourselves by leaving bigly clues. Just a thought.
The real trick to not getting caught trespassing in the Delta pool at night was to not emit too much noise. It was best if you didn’t yell or cackle or do a cannonball. Delta is not a loud village. It especially wasn’t loud in the 70’s, and the city cops made their rounds through the town faithfully. If a cop caught you trespassing in the pool, you weren’t in too much trouble if you hadn’t been drinking or smoking or damaging the property. The cop would usually drive you right to your house (like free Uber) and chat with you and your parents. That was as far as your legal concerns went. For better or worse, your fate was up to your parents. 😱 Fortunately for me, Dad had harmlessly trespassed into many an outdoor pool in his youth too. He understood the exuberance of kidhood.
