Lake Jacomo… Circa 1970-something… Ten or twelve punks, 48 or so beers… and one hugeass cliff/bluff…
It was not a big lake - but not bad… close to home.. Known for parties of snotnoses our age… a Midsummer day… 80’s… beautiful… it’s what a kid lives for.. Summer.. No “have to’s”.. .freedom…
The entire 27 minute drive we’d talked about the bluffs.. And who would be first to go off… “OF COURSE I WILL BE” said the oldest in the group… He’d been a diver on the High School Swim Team - and we had no reason to debate…. I meekly kept quiet in the back right-hand corner, hoping I didn’t have to muster up the necessary fortitude to jump - or be called queer, wimp, whatever the going diss was back then..
So… we’re the the picnic table atop the bluffs… From atop, it looked to be 100 feet down to the water… they were probably only 45-50’ high, but everything looks bigger when you’re younger, even Cindy Lou’s boobies..
By now we’re into our third beer… “So Kim (the diver)… you’re up.” With trepidation he snuck to the edge.. Peered over… and the realization had now come “this ain’t the high dive at William Jewell College”… well no shit Sherlock, it ain’t…
This pacing back and forth to the edge went on for like five minutes… I think I’d tapped into my fourth beer by now... And I dunno whatinthehell overcame me… “GIT OUTTA MY WAY!”.. up… to… out… oh shit… down… and down… and down…
I wasn’t that greata swimmer, but hell, the impact of the water was prolly gonna kill me anyways… it didn’t.. (but it did hurt).. And down, down, down I went. When my momentum had stopped, and I was one entire county away from the top of the water - it was one of the most eerie feelings I’ve ever had… WILL I MAKE IT TO THE TOP BEFORE MY BREATH RUNS OUT?
Flailing and swooshing my arms - I did my level best to move upward as rapidly and swiftly as I could… It seemed though, to take as long as a Naomi Johnson lecture on The Mexican American War.. Periodically opening my eyes, all I saw was brown-greenish stuff… FINALLY, I saw the sun into the water.. I was close.. I was overly ready to exhale…
I made it… to the top… somea the drunk bastards atop the bluff even clapped.. Whew.. I’d shown a little fortitude (stupidity)… I was now, somehow, tough.
Hey, what’s that siren noise? Oh shit. Lake Patrol. Seems Barney had been eyeballing us - and was awaiting this moment. He motored up to me slowly, grabbed my arm, pulled me into the cop boat.. Proceeded to lecture about “don’t you know so-and-so in 1960-something did the same idiotic thing you did, hit her head, and she died right here?
“No sir, officer” Mr. Tough guy stated.. “I DIDN’T know that.. I’m truly remorseful.. I PROMISE I will never do that again.. You’re not going to arrest me are you?”
He could tell from our five minute little ten-horse ride that I was basically scared shitless, would never do the same again, and on that day he let me go… Whew…
Three days ago, hella pain in my side.. I mean hella.. Of course, along with this, wheezing/coughing.. With each cough, immense pain. I’m talking like mebbe the next kinda pain to childbirth.. Bendover pain…
So… I’m back in the depths of that water… A Mexican-American lecture away from the top - from knowing that “I’ll be Ok… it ain’t a tumor… it ain’t an ulcer... It isn’t kidney stones…is this where the appendix is” but I slowly peddle to the doc’s office… like three days later when I finally knew, I must.
“Tell me doc… I can take it... In fact I just did a blog on dyin’.. it’s all good.. I’ll go sit on the pitcher’s mound, I promise, even if it’s 20 below zero.”..
After answering 48 questions, having temp taken with yet another new method (probed this thingy on my forehead… what happened to the ear thing?)… I squinted as he gave me the news….
“You have chronic bronchitis... Close, and maybe even pneumonia… the immense pain you feel is because you’ve strained the muscles inbetween your rib cage.”
That’s it? I might still get to see the Royal’s in the playoffs someday? I might actually one day LIVE empty nest? I don’t needta go compute how much 14 carved letters in granite will cost? I may even love again?
I’d made it to the toppa the water… “I promise ‘officer’… I will one day visit with you about smoking cessation… I know my family’s history of heart trouble - like you say…”
So, I left that boat. $40 at CVS, $20 for the copay. Hella cheap to dispel rumors I was drowning. One day it will come. It does for all of us. I just wasn’t quite ready.
Life rocks. The highs - like the 4-beer attitude “Git outta my way”.. the flying over the edge.. The eagle-like feel on the way down… the victory of making back to the top of the water… the momentary “tough” feel… the days with my coworkers.. The nights with my cronies.. The good “but lecturing” news from the doc.
Hope u never experience the depths of that water.. Chances are, in life we all do… some struggles seem like they’ll never end.. but they do.. Friends help… family helps… a love for life helps… sometimes, even that 4th beer helps…
Life is short, swim hard. Love, Victurd.
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