Margot is a very good swimmer, and I am... not a very good swimmer. She can, and will, swim for hours and hours, and for miles and miles, without needing to rest. My theory is that she is more at home in the water than on land. If you have ever sat and watched polar bears at the zoo on a hot August day as they dive and swim, and dive and swim, then you will have some idea of what my sweetie enjoys doing to cool herself off. I do not, of course, join her. When Margot takes to the water on a hot day of summer I will (typically) crack open my latest copy of The New Yorker, find a nice little piece of shade, and read until those legendary cows return to their domiciles. Oh, sure, I check out the cartoons, and I sometimes doze off a little bit, but generally I read. Content in my knowledge that she is a world-class aquatic athlete gifted with an unusually generous allotment of sober practicality, sense of direction, and buoyancy, I feel that I am entirely to be excused if I take the opportunity to become completely absorbed in some essay, or review, or something--- It's okay. She's like a dolphin. She's The Unsinkable Molly Brown. She will be fine.
Please do not misunderstand me: I CAN swim. When I WANT to. I just do not want to very often. I used to be afraid of the water. No... that's not fair. I used to be ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED of the water. Then I learnt to swim a little bit and now my relationship with the water is just what I would call strained. I will, and I do, go in to the lake or the ocean when it is very, very hot and I will, and I do, hold my nose as I stand in waist-high waves and I will... fall back and get myself completely wet! And that's pretty much it. I blame Niagara Falls. When I was about three years old my sister picked me up and held me over the brink of the Horseshoe Falls for what felt like twenty-six years. That's a true story but I will not bore you with the details right now. I used to have flashbacks and nightmares. Now I bury my head in a magazine and my wife swims for both of us.
THIS IS SPALDING GRAY
THIS IS SPALDING GRAY. What really bothers me about this picture is the empty water glass. Who is his server, and why isn't she doing her job?
