Langley
Susan Langley is now my new hero. I emailed her a few days back after meeting her at the SHA convention.
I expected nothing.
Today I sit down to read my email and I see a response from her.
Opening it, it's a novel, comprised of mostly a list of contacts and areas of the field that I should look into. I've already emailed one for information on research done in Mexico with regard to cenotes (see wikipedia) and precolumbian/colonial contact in Mexico's oceans.
I don't know why the woman felt so obligated to help me out. But I can't say that I mind it.
I think you get a sense of betterment in yourself when you relinquish information that will help the younger generation; ya know, make their lives easier.
I know I do that. At the pool I talk to high schoolers that are soon to graduate, and I give them the heads-up on things that they should look out for. It's amazing how a few simple words could theoretically change someone's path in life.
Speaking of the pool, it's good to be missed.
After missing my usual Thursday and Friday shifts, I come back today to everyone happy to see me. They were wondering where I was. I guess I've had a greater impact than I had previously supposed.
What also interested me was the dynamics of the pool.
I've always known about the gossip that infiltrates Fred Meyer about all the goings-down and who's doing who, and how quick it travels, but I never felt the pool as being that way.
But yesterday, I had so many people coming up to me and trying to get the dirt on Rob. Rumors are flying everywhere and I suppose people think that I'm the one to go to with questions.
"Is it true, he's not coming back?!"
Yup.
I try to keep my information as tight-lipped as possible, depending on how close I am to the person. Some people I've told the whole story to. Others I tell he just ain't coming back.
But the realization came from a woman who's been coming to the pool since her childhood and has known Rob for twenty years. She knows he's a weird dude, but they keep in contact and stay friendly. But I got two things from her:
1) About a month ago, Rob mentioned to her that the air in her tires were somewhat low.
Who the hell notices that? Apparently Rob, cuz he later noticed that my tire was low after deflating it.
2) Rob's sister drank herself to death. I don't know when, but I'm assuming a while ago. Alcoholism must run in the family. Another reason to feel sorry for the guy while still remaining spiteful at the same time.
Aside from Rob's name being on every lip, yesterday was also weird because it seemed like my absence spawned the need for people to open up to me.
Last night I had someone admit to cheating on their spouse.
I had someone else tell me their stories of stalking a woman.
I had a third person tell me they were addicted to crack but are now attending AA for it.
Unfortunately this has led instead to their drinking of beer.
It's odd, the pool.
I feel like a bartender. An ear that gets paid to pass the time in one location and people vie for my time to get their story out. Everyone needs someone to talk about themselves and their life to, and I am someone who will listen to them because I have to be there and I am looking for someway to pass my time. That sounds like I don't care, which isn't the case, but that's basically what it comes down to. Apparently I'm the poor man's psychologist.
Although, for those who would of for a bar tender over a psychologist, I guess my position is more healthy than someone paying for drink after drink to get the bartender's attention.
Can you see why I don't want to leave this place?
Not only do I do therapy sessions, but I have children of all ages to play with. From the tinest of toddlers that can barely walk to 14 year-olds who tell me how I should dress to look cool for Jr. High. I play kickball. I play dodgeball. I play tag. I throw kids into the pool.
I've seen these kids grow and mature.
I've even become closer to the owners and their family.
Everything about it seems like a family to me now and I'm going to miss it when I do eventually have to go.
I expected nothing.
Today I sit down to read my email and I see a response from her.
Opening it, it's a novel, comprised of mostly a list of contacts and areas of the field that I should look into. I've already emailed one for information on research done in Mexico with regard to cenotes (see wikipedia) and precolumbian/colonial contact in Mexico's oceans.
I don't know why the woman felt so obligated to help me out. But I can't say that I mind it.
I think you get a sense of betterment in yourself when you relinquish information that will help the younger generation; ya know, make their lives easier.
I know I do that. At the pool I talk to high schoolers that are soon to graduate, and I give them the heads-up on things that they should look out for. It's amazing how a few simple words could theoretically change someone's path in life.
Speaking of the pool, it's good to be missed.
After missing my usual Thursday and Friday shifts, I come back today to everyone happy to see me. They were wondering where I was. I guess I've had a greater impact than I had previously supposed.
What also interested me was the dynamics of the pool.
I've always known about the gossip that infiltrates Fred Meyer about all the goings-down and who's doing who, and how quick it travels, but I never felt the pool as being that way.
But yesterday, I had so many people coming up to me and trying to get the dirt on Rob. Rumors are flying everywhere and I suppose people think that I'm the one to go to with questions.
"Is it true, he's not coming back?!"
Yup.
I try to keep my information as tight-lipped as possible, depending on how close I am to the person. Some people I've told the whole story to. Others I tell he just ain't coming back.
But the realization came from a woman who's been coming to the pool since her childhood and has known Rob for twenty years. She knows he's a weird dude, but they keep in contact and stay friendly. But I got two things from her:
1) About a month ago, Rob mentioned to her that the air in her tires were somewhat low.
Who the hell notices that? Apparently Rob, cuz he later noticed that my tire was low after deflating it.
2) Rob's sister drank herself to death. I don't know when, but I'm assuming a while ago. Alcoholism must run in the family. Another reason to feel sorry for the guy while still remaining spiteful at the same time.
Aside from Rob's name being on every lip, yesterday was also weird because it seemed like my absence spawned the need for people to open up to me.
Last night I had someone admit to cheating on their spouse.
I had someone else tell me their stories of stalking a woman.
I had a third person tell me they were addicted to crack but are now attending AA for it.
Unfortunately this has led instead to their drinking of beer.
It's odd, the pool.
I feel like a bartender. An ear that gets paid to pass the time in one location and people vie for my time to get their story out. Everyone needs someone to talk about themselves and their life to, and I am someone who will listen to them because I have to be there and I am looking for someway to pass my time. That sounds like I don't care, which isn't the case, but that's basically what it comes down to. Apparently I'm the poor man's psychologist.
Although, for those who would of for a bar tender over a psychologist, I guess my position is more healthy than someone paying for drink after drink to get the bartender's attention.
Can you see why I don't want to leave this place?
Not only do I do therapy sessions, but I have children of all ages to play with. From the tinest of toddlers that can barely walk to 14 year-olds who tell me how I should dress to look cool for Jr. High. I play kickball. I play dodgeball. I play tag. I throw kids into the pool.
I've seen these kids grow and mature.
I've even become closer to the owners and their family.
Everything about it seems like a family to me now and I'm going to miss it when I do eventually have to go.
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