“Our swift approach the Siren choir descries,
Celestial music warbles from their tongue,
And thus the sweet deluders tune the song,
Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!
Oh cease thy journey, and listen to our song!”
Homer
“The Odyssey”
The community swimming pool in Port Aransas, Texas is one of my favorite places. I do my Egoscue exercises (refer to Chapter 5) on the pool deck, and then I swim two miles every day in the sparkling clean, heated, outdoor, twenty-five meter pool. My hope is that this routine will help my body recover from the rigors of so much cycling. Cross training is useful to help prevent overuse injuries.
I spend the winter months, December through March, on the Texas coast in Port Aransas, Texas. Port Aransas is located on an island near Corpus Christi, Texas and is accessible only by bridge or ferry. I still ride my bicycle every day, and I am still camping in my tent every night, but I’m taking it easy. Enjoying life. Walking on the beach.
My camp site is near a nature preserve called Charlie’s Pasture. I see beautiful sunsets almost every evening because the side of my tent is facing west and the weather is still so warm that my tent fly is completely folded back. I am in my tent listening to music.
Holding you close understood before the fire,
The pressure in my chest when you breathe in my ear,
We both knew this would happen when you first appeared.
My Lady of the Island
The brownness of your body in the fire glow,
Except the places where the sun refused to go,
Our bodies were a perfect fit, in afterglow we lay.
My Lady of the Island
Crosby, Stills and Nash
“Lady of the Island”
This is the most romantic song I have ever heard! The song is particularly entrancing because I have noticed a certain beautiful woman. She spends the whole afternoon swimming in the lane adjacent to mine.
We have chatted several times, most recently about how swimming pools in Iceland are a vital part of their culture. A place where everyone can meet and converse with one another on equal terms. I’m thinking that sort of thing is happening here in Port Aransas as well.
There is just nothing better than having an interesting conversation with a person of the opposite sex. They often have a different perspective on things. Several times my ideas have been batted back to me in a way that tells me this woman has a quirky way of looking at the world and is definitely fun to talk to.
I have decided to ask her to join me at Coffee Waves, my favorite hangout in Port Aransas, so we can continue our conversation. I am terrified. Remember how you felt when you were thirteen and you called that cute girl from math class and asked her to go to a movie?
That’s exactly how I feel. Only it is worse because when you are 65 years old you are supposed to be over that sort of thing. You are supposed to be cool about these things. I’m not feeling very cool about anything, but I go ahead and say it anyway, “Would you like to join me at Coffee Waves tomorrow morning?”
Time stood still. The jury foreman was returning with the verdict which would decide my fate. I felt dizzy. The whole world started spinning around. Finally, she answered, “That sounds nice!”
“Nice.” What a great word! My new favorite word! A word you might expect to find in a Peter Rabbit book by Beatrix Potter, along with “tidy.” Such beautiful, quaint English words!
We give so much credit to the literary masters, like Shakespeare and Chaucer. How about the guy who first came up with the word “Nice!” Now there was a real wordsmith! Perhaps his wife pointed at the bowl of soup she had just prepared, and it just came to him in a flash, “Nice!” His wife smiled. A word was born.
Strangely, I have never run across any convincing explanation for how a language is first created. What a gift for those who follow! A complete language all ready to use! And now I am the ultimate beneficiary, she said “Nice!”
I’m really hoping she likes coffee. What is it about coffee? Well, for one thing it often comes with breakfast and breakfast is my favorite meal. A fresh beginning to a new day. It has been five years since I’ve spent time with a woman, and I think that’s what I miss the most. Having someone to talk to at breakfast!
That would be an important part of the meaning of the word “intimacy” for me. One person you can count on to take an interest when you say “I’ve been thinking…” or “Can I get you some more coffee?” We have a great time at Coffee Waves and she invites me to come over to her place! Not tomorrow, right now! I’m no longer feeling stupid for asking her out. I’m feeling like a genius!
I’m in her living room having a glass of wine while she is preparing lunch. I have never seen so much furniture and so many collectibles crowded into such a small room. She tells me that she has a roommate who is an interior decorator. Apparently, the roommate believes in the concept of more stuff equals better decorated! I start thinking about Marie Kondo’s book, “The Life- Changing Magic of Tidying Up.” And then I make my first mistake, I say, “Have you heard of that interesting book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up?”
Now, to me, it seems to be quite a logical leap to assume, from an innocent little question like that, that I am suggesting that she needs to tidy up, but that’s the feeling I’m getting from the slight pause in the conversation that I just detected. I have just violated the first rule of getting along with a woman. Never say anything! Yes, you heard that correctly. Never say anything!
I’m a sweet, jolly, old guy who likes to chat with everyone. You have probably noticed this. So it is almost inevitable that I will violate a strict rule like that. Now, I know some things about relationships. For example, take the task of folding towels. A smart husband watches carefully how his sweet, little wife folds towels and then swiftly adopts that method.
A complete idiot says something like, “Here, let me show you the best way to fold towels.” That marriage is, for all practical purposes, over. Who is that kind of idiot? Well, I am certainly a likely candidate. As you may have noticed, I’m full of advice about practically everything, including folding towels. This is why I’m alone.
I digress. We haven’t even gotten to the towel folding stage, and I’ve already stepped in it! Nevertheless, lunch is very nice, and we go outside to try the hot tub. Maybe I can turn this around.
Things actually went very well. We were inseparable for the entire next week. This started to get on the roommate’s nerves, however. I had been a tent dweller for so long that I was clearly not in touch with all those stylish decorating flourishes. In fact, I had a hard time knowing where to set down my wine glass or where to hang my damp bath towel without causing decorator havoc. My days as a guest were clearly numbered.
One of the most mind bending consequences of hanging out with ladies is the way it distorts everything you thought you understood about yourself. Previously, I would have described myself as contemplative and engaged with the world. My life was simple and self-sufficient in a way that even Thoreau might have approved of. After only a week, all these traits had been weaponized and deployed against me. Come to find out, I was actually a self-centered, ambitionless, flake. It was becoming crystal clear to me exactly why Thoreau never married!
I did my best to win over the roommate. After all, love can be a real battlefield. A guy needs allies, particularly in a home with not just one, but two ladies! I am a big believer in using humor to win people over. The problem is that old guy humor is sometimes a bit lame, even though I generally find it hilarious.
“Do you know why God created roommates?” I asked the roommate. “I have no idea,” she responded warily.
“To help us recognize when we are being annoying. Take me, for example, I have been living alone for the last five years and, as far as I know, I haven’t done anything annoying the whole five years.” Well, that poor woman didn’t even crack a smile. My ship was sinking fast!
The next week, I was, shall we say, removed from the premises. There was a death in the family of my Siren. Fate intervened. She had a lot to deal with, and my presence wasn’t helping. Just like Ulysses in Homer’s “Odyssey,” I made my escape.
To this day my heart is tender. When I hugged her to say goodbye, the nape of her neck smelled like vanilla. Nape. That’s another one of those beautiful, old words. Then, when I opened my arms to release my Siren, I began to fly through the night sky. The Gulf of Mexico was dark and whispery on the horizon, the lights of Corpus Christi were a faint glimmer in the distance. Then I slowly drifted back to earth and resumed my journey.
Feelings are strange, especially when they come true,
And I had a feeling that you’d be leaving soon.
So I tried to rearrange all my emotions,
But it seems the same no matter what I do.
Blue umbrella rests upon my shoulder,
Hide the pain while the rain makes up my mind.
Well, my feet are wet from thinking this thing over,
And it’s been so long since I felt the warm sunshine.
Just give me one good reason,
And I promise I won’t ask you any more.
Just give me one extra season,
So I can figure out the other four.
John Prine
“Blue Umbrella”