I'm sure this isn't something the spin class ladies have to worry about.
So a couple weeks ago, I meant to update you on the state of Old Mr. Banana Hammock.
Let me remind you that I currently take a water aerobics ("hydro fit") class three days a week. The class is great and it works me pretty hard (as long as I'm willing to push myself), I just have to deal with being the youngest in the pool, aka "old people soup," by a good 25-30 years.
By the way, Doris was singing her heart out the other day -- head back, EYES CLOSED, belting out "Celebrate." Ceeeeelebrate goood times come on!
Anyway. I had forgotten to mention to you that the old man who swims laps while class is going on NOT ONLY wears a tiny see-through Speedo, but when he manages to lift himself out of the pool (a painstaking process, to be sure), he grabs his cane and his bag of I-don't-know-what before he scuttles his way back to the men's locker room. He is also always wearing a swim cap and goggles.
Please think about this image. Elderly man, stooped over, shuffling along the poolside with a cane, wearing a swim cap and goggles, carrying a nylon "swim bag"(?), in a tiny, thinning flesh-colored bathing suit. And I don't want to be too graphic here, but that bathing suit makes you see things you don't want to see in both directions.
So but. Last week, I showed up to class and there was whispering and murmurs coming from my fellow swimmers, and I hear that someone has DIED. "You know, the old guy who comes to the pool every day and swims laps? He had a hard time walking?"
I assumed I knew exactly who they were talking about, but I couldn't exactly clarify. I mean, is it not the height of impropriety to ask about a dead man's junk?
I stated earlier that I thought Mr. Banana Hammock was about 88. And then I saw that there was an "In Loving Memory" poster up at the other end of the pool, for the man who swam 19 laps EVERY DAY into his 92nd year...
And then I felt very strange. I mean, it's not exactly a horrific tragedy when a 92-year-old man (who was clearly beloved even at his GYM) dies. But it's not really okay to laugh about him, either. And yet there his see-though bathing suit sits, on my blog, for pure comedic effect.
Should I take my posts mentioning a now-dead man's old, accidentally visible butt? WHERE IS EMILY POST WHEN YOU NEED HER?
Let's just say I was rather distracted throughout class. I don't know how one handles blogging the death of a stranger. I certainly have no poignant thoughts to add.
Ex: "I'll really miss trying desperately to avert my gaze from your jiggly, low-hanging fruit as you made your way from the pool to the locker room, sir. May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."
You're probably thinking I'm heartless now, huh? Well, I'm not. Because the astonishing truth is that Old Mr. Banana Hammock is NOT dead. Apparently the dead man was some OTHER guy who swam into his 92nd year, and our see-through Speedo guy is someone else. Someone very much alive and kicking (literally) AND?
And wearing a new bathing suit! Oh, it's still a tiny little number, but this new one's a nice dark plum tone and totally not see-through. Oh, the joy!
I had to do my best to mask my elation as I discovered in quick succession that this man was neither dead NOR exposing his family jewels to my class anymore!
How could I ever take a spin class when the pool affords such drama?