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Pool Man

Neck-Deep in the living waters

A A A Comments (0) By Alan Rifkin Wednesday, Jul 3 2002
...continued from page 7

So let‘s just say that my time with the pool man has been an off-season Christmas Carol. The ghost of poolside future is death. And the ghost of poolside past is nothing but a pretty lie.

Whereas the ghost of Summer 2002 arrives at a 12-year-old’s birthday party in Mission Viejo in the middle of May. The pool is a brand-new tank above the ground. The chemicals are balanced. The living waters are butt-cold, freaking out the children. I have a stupid knee brace from an old injury, and thinning hair, and my trunks fit too tightly around my wintry stomach, but I can‘t afford more worry. Both the baby on the way and the baby in the casket say that this is my time. And I plunge in. (Thank you, Mr. Pool Man!) I will never be younger.

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