|18 may 1999
the deep end
I went up to the YMCA yesterday to get Amy signed up for another round of swimming lessons. The girl behind the desk near the entrance to the pool was in her teens, a brow-pierced lass with a swimmer's build.
"That'll be fifty bucks." she said, snapping her gum.
"Okay." I said, showing no outward signs of leaving 1999 and rolling my eyes back in their sockets to look at 19XX when...
While all this was rerunning in my head, I was pulling out my checkbook. As I filled in the date, May 17, I said to myself "Ah, SLA Day."
Again the eyes roll back.
I have one of those memories. It sticks to the oddest things.
I ask the pierced swimmer girl if she knows what the Symbionese Liberation Army was. I think I might be frightening her because I'm wearing olive drab cargo pants with full pockets (case for eyeglasses, wallet, cell phone, keys, pen, notebook), aviator Ray-Bans (they're prescription and it's pretty bright near the windows here), and carrying a black backpack. Maybe her eyes are about to roll back to Columbine High School or a movie her mom wouldn't let her see but she saw anyway. I take her blank stare as a cue to please explain, so I do. And as I tell her about Cinque and Tania and the Hibernia Bank I become the subject of a story of her own, an anecdote for lunch with her swim buddies about this old guy dressed like a terrorist whose eyes kept rolling back.
Yesterday I began the second year of Evaporation.
It's time for a redesign and a few other tweaks, but don't hold your breath, as time for such things is at a premium lately. Just please keep reading, and breathe normally. An attendant will be out soon to check your fluids.
"I.G.Y." -- Donald Fagen -- THE NIGHTFLY
"To serve is beautiful, but only if it is done with joy and a whole heart and a free mind."
- Pearl S. Buck