Commin' Up For Air

The Old Man has always loved the water. As far back as I can remember, my fascination with all things "nautical" has been a strong influence in my life. I never saw the ocean until I was about ten years old, but by then, I felt a kinship to Popeye the Sailor. My mother would fix spinach and I would eat my fill, then go into my room and watch my arms. Nothing happened. You may give a collective "Yuuk" but to this day good old canned spinach is one of my favorites. The arms still haven't hit the Popeye stage yet, but there is an area around my belt that has taken up the slack.

Swimming pools as we know them didn't exist in Bedford. I knew of one that was little more than a concrete hole. There was no filter and no chemicals. There were, however, frogs, bugs, enough algae to support the weight of Bigfoot, and who-knows-what-else lurking in the deep end. But the "real" water was at "The Lake". Formally known as the Bedford County Park, it was about 10 miles outside of town. As lakes go, it wasn't all that big. You could rent a rowboat and row from one end to the other in about 20 minutes. But it was "our" lake. My folks loved to go out there and fish. My dad taught me at an early age about Blue Gills, minnows, nightcrawlers, and backlash. We didn't have such fancy reels in those days. I learned quickly how to "thumb" my reel on a cast in an attempt to prevent the Queen Mother of all tangles. Other than salt herring in winter, I grew up thinking that to "eat fish" meant perch and that the "Holy Grail" of fishing was the largemouth bass. My dad lived his whole life hoping to catch one, but never did as I recall.

I tolerated the fishing, but my true love was the swimming area. There was a little sandy beach and a chained off swimming area with water about chest high on an adult. My friends and I would spend entire Saturdays in that swimming area, freezing and shivering during June and early July. It always got better by August when the water warmed to probably 90 degrees.

The Lake had it all. In addition to the swimming area, the boat house, and the fishing, there was the concession stand. Two large speakers on the roof of the building blared popular songs of the day as the older kids fed nickles into the jukebox. Even after all these years, "Born To Be With You" by the Chordettes calls up memories of being at The Lake. Its Pavlovian, I suppose.

As I grew to the teen years, my relation with The Lake grew with me. In Bedford, you could just stand on Longwood Avenue and if you had a towel with your bathing suit (not called trunks) wrapped and rolled under your arm, and sure enough someone you knew would stop and give you a ride. You just had to agree to come home when they did. Mom & Dad have stopped for many of them. That's just how Bedford was back then.

I have a lifelong affection for the water.....the ocean....the mystery of what's down there. In another life, I would probably choose to be Clive Cussler......or Popeye.

I must go, now. I need to hear Born To Be With You..................