So this week I reached into my pile of ancient elementary school paperwork and pulled out this one:
I do remember wanting an underground pool when I was little. In upstate New York, the outdoor swimming season was not very long. Evidently I didn’t swim very well. I can’t imagine why; I had lessons at a local college. (As I recall, these lessons involved throwing us into the water and poking us with long sticks to keep us from climbing out again; but it was a long time ago and I may be misremembering.) The teacher thought it was very nice that I was a schlub, though, so it’s all good.
In any case, I think I swim okay now. I’m still not particularly fast, though. Unless you count my Viennese waltz.
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