I was just 10 years old when Dad said I
was ready for the Men Only Swim Hour
at the YMCA Downtown where we were
members. He had rehearsed proper
etiquette with me many times and I was
ready, 'Behave as if you are the only
one in the pool, greet other men, and
go about your business, swim laps'
I always most enjoyed the first few
moments upon entering the pool
area, the heavy, humid air brushing
my freedom, a powerful, strangely
omnipotent sensation, like this feeling
was the natural order for a secret
society of male rulers, inviting me
into their kingdom to experience truth,
if only for an hour.
We were all equally noble, wizened
and wrinkled sages, lithe and muscled
herculeans (my Dad among these)
and me...all here just to freely wet the
whistle, for an hour.
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2016