How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part 2

This time of year, I have to wonder about people’s feet. The footwear of midsummer tends to be flat and unsupportive; we all wear sandals or flip-flops, and I wonder how many arches are aching and how many secret red spots reside in the raw and sockless places under those beaded metallic sidewalk slappers. This is the sun-bloated, mediterranean time and the livin’ is easy. I wonder if our bodies are like bags of sun, filled to brimming in midsummer and slowly draining out in the cold months. People say, in favor of Seattle, that the sunless damp makes it easier to work, and I guess that’s true. Harder to want to live, easier to work. I am having a great time singing, but a hard time learning music. My discipline is shot, but the feeling in my head rings heavenly. Why must there be choices in life? I think it would be great if we all had government issued shoes. Maybe even pinafores and trousers made of astoundingly durable cloth. Hats in summer. The colors would coordinate well and people tend to look elegant in uniforms.

I get to go back to the Kearns swimming complex tomorrow, and I wish I were there already. Last time, I jumped off the lowest of the high dive platforms. My friends went off the higher levels, but I think I was most daring, because most afraid. There were some kids up there, waiting with me for the flag to signal our turn. Kids know how to do that stuff. A little boy said: just don’t look down when you jump, so I didn’t. I looked down as I jumped, and the blue was hurtling at me, dramatic and pleasing. The other thing about strange kids is you can’t balk in front of them. You have to pretend that you are cool and jump off like it’s nothing.