HOME | POLITICS | SPORTS | LIFE | SCI/TECH | OPEDS | HELPFUL TIPS
|
Nov 2, 2003 The last two days have been sort of gloomy here in Hawaii. The small drop in temperature has not been keeping me out of the pool. I welcome the overcast skies. It is probably good that I don't get too much more sun. I have a nice shade of red going now. I have never been one to put a whole glop of goop all over my body, but I've never been opposed to someone pretty offering to do that for me. HEY! Lighten up! I'm a guy! I got back from the classroom yesterday; ready to fire up the microwave and "Cup-o-Noodle" my dinner. Well, the power was out at the hotel, so I just changed into my bathing suit and headed for the pool. Two hours of pool and spa later, I was ready for beddie. (The power came back on 5 minutes after I hit the pool.) It is funny that almost the first question someone asks in the hot tub is: "Do you live here?", followed by, "Where are you from?". The conversations, always brisk, can range through just about any subject with the two exceptions of "religion" and "politics". Those two subjects seem very taboo. Everything else is a major topic. Taxes, Insurance companies, Health and health care, Injuries, Children, Home ownership, Travel, Music....you get the picture. Heck! You've all been there, probably talking to me! That brings up the other amazing thing about hot tub conversations. No one knows your name and, apparently, no one cares who you are. No one asks for or offers their name in any of these conversations unless you happen to be joined by someone from your home state, or very close to where you live on the mainland. A person will ask about your vocation, your vacation, your family, and your tax return, but you have to offer your name because, like religion and politics, you don't want to pry that far into a stranger. I really enjoy most conversations. I don't like sitting in the spa with a salesman though. No matter what, a salesman cannot stop being one, even for a one hour dip in a hot tub. Heck! That's probably where they hope to drum up a buyer anyway. I'm glad the pool is close by because, when a salesman shows up at the tub, it is always time to head for the pool. Another amazing thing is how many millionares you meet in hot tubs. Everyone, it seems, has oodles of money. They talk of golf and yaught (sp) clubs. They talk of the marina and the finer wines and resturants. All of that is very interesting too. I can't compete with any of that but it must all be true because when I talk about my Dodge Caravan and its 156,000 original owner miles, these people all manage to stare at me with that same "LOSER" look of abject pity. Anyway, even with the gloomy skies, a bright lining can be found around the hotel hot tub. I'm going back there right now to contemplate the correct spelling of yaght (or is that yacht?) ------------ About the Author: Independent, Conservative, Christian. Married 29 years this month with five children raised and one grandson being raised. 30 year Army Veteran and published poet with www.poetry.com for the past 3 years. Email Michael John McCrae: michael.mccrae@us.army.mil Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
