I did something to my back a few days ago. Sleeping has been a challenge because no horizontal position frees me from the pain. It's nothing serious though, I'll survive. Sleep is overrated anyway. I don't have the same type of dreams I did when I was a much younger man, which means there's less laundry to do. The ones I do have usually have me pitted against an unyielding foe or taking on an impossible task, but I always wake up before I know whether I turn out to be the hero or the goat.
Sick of hearing me moan and groan, Lynda was kind enough to give me the appointment she had made to visit a massage therapist this afternoon. Lynda was using a gift certificate that I had won at a recent charity event. The appointment was to be at an up scale spa, so it's not the kind of place that simple folk like me visit often.
It just so happens that I had been at this specific spa once before. On that occasion, I had gifted Lynda with a certificate that entitled her to a massage and hot tub for two. I crossed my fingers and was rewarded when she took me along to be the "two". The side by side massage was great; the hot tub for two was fantastic; but the best thing of all was that somebody else would be doing the laundry.
The only fly in the ointment on that spa visit was my experience with the robe. Perhaps such places don't cater to guys too much or maybe they don't care enough about guys because we're not traditionally the ones who spend any money at these fancy spa places. When we arrived, they whisked Lynda away and it seemed like she was set to be "Queen for the day" or at least the couple of hours that the gift certificate granted that wish. I, on the other hand, was merely told to go to the men's locker room, put on a robe, and to meet Lynda upstairs - nothing more, nothing less. I found the locker room after a few minutes of searching. It was empty, but there on the bench was a robe. It was the only one in sight so I got undressed and put it on, although, not before I had a great debate with myself about whether or not to keep on my "tightie-whities". I was having a massage so drawers could stay on. I was then having a hot tub rendezvous with the wife so drawers should come off. I wasn't sure of what spa etiquette says on the subject, so I let my man brain decide. No drawers it would be.
I met Lynda in the waiting area. It was a room with several couches, where everyone waited to be summoned for their procedure. Lynda was already there, as were several other folks. As I sat down beside her, the robe rode up so that it barely covered half my thigh. It was a little airy, so I decided I better cross my legs. I whispered to Lynda that I was all natural under the robe. She laughed and asked if anyone helped me out at the check in after she was taken away, as this is something that they should have explained to me. When I told her I was left on my own she then asked how and where did I find the robe that I was wearing. I told her that was the easy part, as it was on the bench in the change room. Boy, was I surprised when she told me that I had just put on a dirty robe that someone else had worn and that the clean ones were in the cabinet. Oh well, the damage was done. Perhaps that guy made a better decision that I and kept his underwear on. Hopefully.
On today's visit, I had no major gaffs. The lady welcoming me to the spa actually told where the change room was located and where I would find the clean robes. Once again though, I was not told whether to leave on or take off my underwear. They should not take it for granted that guys coming to this spa will automatically know what to do. As a man of one previous spa experience, as well as the fact that I wasn't there with Lynda, I knew that the right thing to do would be to keep my drawers on. Not all guys coming to the spa will be as worldly as I and they may not be able to make such an informed decision as I did today. Also, by leaving on my underwear, the robe that I used was as good as when I found it. I didn't leave it on the bench like that unpolished goof from my previous visit. After my massage, I folded the robe nicely and put it back in the cabinet. That's one less thing the spa will need to launder.
Saturday, December 07, 2013
Thursday, December 05, 2013
Swimmingly Simplistic
I love to see Lynda laugh. I especially love it when I am the one who has made here do it. She can laugh with me, at me, for me, because of me, despite me.....it's all good. Last evening , it just may have been a little of all of those.
We were at the residence of the president (the guy) and the team manager (the gal) of our swim club. It's not actually "our" club, but the one Kendall and Avery are in - The St. John's Legends. It was the occasion of the club's monthly board meeting. Lynda is the secretary and social club go-to person, while I am the Meet Manager. No, I don't liaise with Sobey's for deals on beef. My job is to coordinate the couple of meets that our club hosts each year. No small task when you consider we get over 350 swimmers, from all over the province, at our pool for a weekend. The effort required has equalled the project management that I used to do as a supervisor with the RCMP drug unit here in St. John's. Swimmers and drug dealers strive for good times, but the comparison ends there. Instead of a cushy cell at a Federal Pen perhaps convicted drug traffickers should have to do a 1500 meter free style. That'll go way further in teaching them about the attributes of hard work, dedication and self respect. I may even take their handcuffs off.....nah.
Everyone on the board is a parent of a swimmer. Like all of the other parents, Lynda and I pay a small fortune for the privilege of having the girls partake in an awesome sport. I thought I was getting off easy when the girls gravitated towards swimming - no expensive skates, no $250 hockey sticks, $400 catcher's mitts. Boy, was I wrong. Competitive swim suits run from $80 to $300 and are only worn during competitions because they disintegrate to near invisibility after a dozen wearings. The girls each have 4 or 5 regular suits too that don't cost an arm and a leg. These manage to get them through the practices that go on every day, except Sunday, and twice on Monday for Kendall - before and after school. Going into the world of swimming as a newbee, I could see that goggles were a part of the sport. I just didn't realize that the girls just had to have the ones that are the latest and greatest and come with a price tag to match. Those damn things wear out way too quickly. I guess the chlorinated water eats away at the plastic and rubber. Oh yeah, it must also eat away at the kids' brains because way too often we've come away from the pool only to find their swim bags void of the goggles that were there when they went into the pool. I've pretty much fixed that problem though. The girls have to buy their own if they lose their goggles and I have threatened to make them where the ones I've been using for the last 15 years. I'm pretty sure the idea of wearing goggles that makes them look like a gigantic housefly is more effective than forking out a couple of months allowance, but my wallet is just happy that something gets their attention.
And how could I forget the travel. If you want to go anyway in the sport, then you have to go just about everywhere. The thrill of competition and the life experiences gained are priceless commodities for our kids. It just so happens they tend to be pricey too. Last weekend, Avery and I went to Gander for her very first swim meet. It was awesome! I was so proud to see her belly smacking off the blocks, giving maximum effort during her races, and coming up smiling no matter how she placed. It was well worth the cost of the hotels, gas to drive there, meals and entry fees. It looks like Lynda and I will be writing many more cheques for upcoming swim meets for Avery. Then there's Kendall. At 13, she's a virtual veteran of the world of competitive swimming. Her swimming schedule will see her go to Corner Brook; Gander; Pointe-Claire, Quebec, New Brunswick, Florida and maybe California. Guess where the money will be coming from. I'd have Kendall take up a paper route if only she wasn't so busy practicing and going to school. Seeing how I drive the kids to 5:30 a.m. practices four days a week that leaves me out of the paper delivery option. Hmmmm, Lynda is not busy at that hour. I don't think she's laughing at, or even with me, about that idea.
I am but a simple man. Lynda always knew this. Now, so does everyone else. A couple of weeks ago the club held an auction as a fund raiser. It was a somewhat formal affair, with a nice meal and wicked items available to the highest bidders. For those who follow my stories and who know me a little, you are aware of my passion for cod fishing and my fondness for my little boat. It was a natural fit for me to offer a cod jigging experience as an auction item. A day out on the waters of Torbay, watching whales, exploring cliffs and coves, breathing the salty air, catching our cod quota......does it get any better than that? Surely it is priceless! My buddy, Wayne, was the auctioneer. No one is better at it. It so happens that Wayne has been out jigging with me, so he knows what I have to offer. The organizers want me to spice up the experience and suggest an on board meal would fetch more money. I'm easy, so no problem. I'll just get my mom to make it all anyway. A granola bar and a Pepsi are usually the extent of my fine dining while out on the water. No need to fill your belly only to end up sharing it all with the gulls. In any event, I don't have a bathroom on board. I've never needed one. It's a truly liberating feeling to pee off the bow into the great big sea.. Just be careful to make sure no sharks are lurking about, especially when the ladies tinkle. Anyway, a lunch will be included. The bidding is going well, $400....$500.... when someone asks Wayne what exactly is included. Wayne repeats the spiel....cod fishing, Torbay, lunch, then pauses and looks my way. He then tells everyone to look at me, that this is what you get, Jim is just a simple man. $500 to $600 to $700 and it sells for $800. Maybe simple ain't so bad. (I forgot to look to see if Lynda was laughing with me or at me. I bet she wished she had a newspaper to hide behind.)
So, finally I'll get back to the last evening's board meeting and what made Lynda laugh. We were discussing having Santa attend an upcoming swim practice to meet all of the kids in the club. We could do pictures, candy canes and Santa would interact with the kids on the pool deck for a couple of hours. All I could think about was Santa, big beard, bigger belly, red suit and the heat and humidity of the pool. The big guy wouldn't stand a chance. I had to come to the defence of St. Nick. I told everyone that the poor guy would surely sweat his bag off! Everyone busted out in hysterics. Hey, I meant the bag he carries on his back. I can't help it if people take things the wrong way. Anyway, Lynda was quick to come to my defence. She told everyone - "Don't mind Jim, he is simple."
We were at the residence of the president (the guy) and the team manager (the gal) of our swim club. It's not actually "our" club, but the one Kendall and Avery are in - The St. John's Legends. It was the occasion of the club's monthly board meeting. Lynda is the secretary and social club go-to person, while I am the Meet Manager. No, I don't liaise with Sobey's for deals on beef. My job is to coordinate the couple of meets that our club hosts each year. No small task when you consider we get over 350 swimmers, from all over the province, at our pool for a weekend. The effort required has equalled the project management that I used to do as a supervisor with the RCMP drug unit here in St. John's. Swimmers and drug dealers strive for good times, but the comparison ends there. Instead of a cushy cell at a Federal Pen perhaps convicted drug traffickers should have to do a 1500 meter free style. That'll go way further in teaching them about the attributes of hard work, dedication and self respect. I may even take their handcuffs off.....nah.
Everyone on the board is a parent of a swimmer. Like all of the other parents, Lynda and I pay a small fortune for the privilege of having the girls partake in an awesome sport. I thought I was getting off easy when the girls gravitated towards swimming - no expensive skates, no $250 hockey sticks, $400 catcher's mitts. Boy, was I wrong. Competitive swim suits run from $80 to $300 and are only worn during competitions because they disintegrate to near invisibility after a dozen wearings. The girls each have 4 or 5 regular suits too that don't cost an arm and a leg. These manage to get them through the practices that go on every day, except Sunday, and twice on Monday for Kendall - before and after school. Going into the world of swimming as a newbee, I could see that goggles were a part of the sport. I just didn't realize that the girls just had to have the ones that are the latest and greatest and come with a price tag to match. Those damn things wear out way too quickly. I guess the chlorinated water eats away at the plastic and rubber. Oh yeah, it must also eat away at the kids' brains because way too often we've come away from the pool only to find their swim bags void of the goggles that were there when they went into the pool. I've pretty much fixed that problem though. The girls have to buy their own if they lose their goggles and I have threatened to make them where the ones I've been using for the last 15 years. I'm pretty sure the idea of wearing goggles that makes them look like a gigantic housefly is more effective than forking out a couple of months allowance, but my wallet is just happy that something gets their attention.
And how could I forget the travel. If you want to go anyway in the sport, then you have to go just about everywhere. The thrill of competition and the life experiences gained are priceless commodities for our kids. It just so happens they tend to be pricey too. Last weekend, Avery and I went to Gander for her very first swim meet. It was awesome! I was so proud to see her belly smacking off the blocks, giving maximum effort during her races, and coming up smiling no matter how she placed. It was well worth the cost of the hotels, gas to drive there, meals and entry fees. It looks like Lynda and I will be writing many more cheques for upcoming swim meets for Avery. Then there's Kendall. At 13, she's a virtual veteran of the world of competitive swimming. Her swimming schedule will see her go to Corner Brook; Gander; Pointe-Claire, Quebec, New Brunswick, Florida and maybe California. Guess where the money will be coming from. I'd have Kendall take up a paper route if only she wasn't so busy practicing and going to school. Seeing how I drive the kids to 5:30 a.m. practices four days a week that leaves me out of the paper delivery option. Hmmmm, Lynda is not busy at that hour. I don't think she's laughing at, or even with me, about that idea.
I am but a simple man. Lynda always knew this. Now, so does everyone else. A couple of weeks ago the club held an auction as a fund raiser. It was a somewhat formal affair, with a nice meal and wicked items available to the highest bidders. For those who follow my stories and who know me a little, you are aware of my passion for cod fishing and my fondness for my little boat. It was a natural fit for me to offer a cod jigging experience as an auction item. A day out on the waters of Torbay, watching whales, exploring cliffs and coves, breathing the salty air, catching our cod quota......does it get any better than that? Surely it is priceless! My buddy, Wayne, was the auctioneer. No one is better at it. It so happens that Wayne has been out jigging with me, so he knows what I have to offer. The organizers want me to spice up the experience and suggest an on board meal would fetch more money. I'm easy, so no problem. I'll just get my mom to make it all anyway. A granola bar and a Pepsi are usually the extent of my fine dining while out on the water. No need to fill your belly only to end up sharing it all with the gulls. In any event, I don't have a bathroom on board. I've never needed one. It's a truly liberating feeling to pee off the bow into the great big sea.. Just be careful to make sure no sharks are lurking about, especially when the ladies tinkle. Anyway, a lunch will be included. The bidding is going well, $400....$500.... when someone asks Wayne what exactly is included. Wayne repeats the spiel....cod fishing, Torbay, lunch, then pauses and looks my way. He then tells everyone to look at me, that this is what you get, Jim is just a simple man. $500 to $600 to $700 and it sells for $800. Maybe simple ain't so bad. (I forgot to look to see if Lynda was laughing with me or at me. I bet she wished she had a newspaper to hide behind.)
So, finally I'll get back to the last evening's board meeting and what made Lynda laugh. We were discussing having Santa attend an upcoming swim practice to meet all of the kids in the club. We could do pictures, candy canes and Santa would interact with the kids on the pool deck for a couple of hours. All I could think about was Santa, big beard, bigger belly, red suit and the heat and humidity of the pool. The big guy wouldn't stand a chance. I had to come to the defence of St. Nick. I told everyone that the poor guy would surely sweat his bag off! Everyone busted out in hysterics. Hey, I meant the bag he carries on his back. I can't help it if people take things the wrong way. Anyway, Lynda was quick to come to my defence. She told everyone - "Don't mind Jim, he is simple."
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