"Ready? Dive." I took one last gulp of air and began swimming towards the bottom of the lake. It got darker and murkier with each kick. Once on the bottom of the lake: one, two, three full strokes and then I began kicking my way back to the surface. Once there, those of us in the water lined up with the person on the dock. "Ready? Dive." I kicked my way back to the bottom of the lake. I'd done this dozens of times this summer, but this time was different. This time, with each stroke, I was praying I wouldn't find a body.
I was fifteen when my mom dragged me to the town swimming pool to get me a job. I found the manager terrifying. But I got the job. I don't even remember having to prove I could swim. I ended up spending the next three summers doing what I discovered was the best summer job in town. I got to sit outside all day getting a tan. And making sure no one drowned. Most days, the toughest part of my job was talking a kid into retrieving my whistle when I inevitably lost control of swinging it around my fingers and sent it flying over the fence or in the pool.
As easy as my job was, by the time August rolled around, I was ready to be done working and go back to school. I found myself longing for the days when I could wear underwear instead of a swimsuit. By mid-August, I begin fervently wishing for a lightening storm so we could close the pool down for the afternoon. None the less, a summer in a wet swimsuit beat working the deli at the grocery store or doing trail repair for the forest service.
It wasn't until I was trying to decide what to do the summer after high school graduation that I realized just how great a gig lifeguarding was. Not only was it something that came easy to me, and wasn't difficult, it turns out it was something you could do anywhere. I ended up with a job lifeguarding on a lake for a summer camp in upstate New York in the summer of 1999.
This was the first time I'd lifeguarded on anything other that a swimming pool. My first day, we had to swim the length of the lake. It was man made and luckily it wasn't huge. Also lucky for me, I had stuffed a swim suit into my carry on bag when I flew out to NY. The airline lost my luggage and the only change of clothes I had was my swimsuit. For three days. The major difference between a lake and a pool is obviously the visibility. There are also no lane lines to follow and I can see the fish and seaweed that I'm trying to pretend isn't in the lake.
The other major difference about working at the camp in New York were the kids I was lifeguarding for. In the pool where I grew up, most of the kids could swim. It was eye opening to be around inner city kids that had rarely been in water outside of the bathtub. I found myself jumping in that lake after more kids on my first day than I ever had in three summers at the pool. These kids really could not swim. And didn't realize that they could not swim. I quickly learned to only wear clothes to the lake that could get wet because chances were that I was jumping in unexpectedly.
Because there were so many kids down at the lake at one time, we had buddy calls every few minutes and would count the pairs of kids in the water. More often than not, the count matched what it was supposed to be and everyone went on swimming. Occasionally the number was off and we found ourselves racing for the water to find a missing kid. The majority of the time of the time this happened, we barely got in the water before the kids were found sitting on the beach.
Unfortunately the majority of the time wasn't every time and I found myself swimming along the bottom of the lake praying that I wouldn't find a body. Because by this point we'd been diving for so long that it was more likely a recovery mission. In between prayers, I was reviewing CPR in my head. We were almost to the point where we left the swimming area and started swimming the lake, continuing to looks for the kids' bodies when we got word that they'd been found. They had neglected to check out of the swimming area and were found in their cabin. Which when you're thinking you're going to find a body, was the best possible outcome.
It wasn't until I dragged myself out of the lake, emotionally exhausted, that I noticed half the camp sitting quietly on the hillside, watching us. The kids were obviously in trouble and had to make a very public apology to the ten of us that had been diving for them for the last twenty minutes. It wasn't until then that I realized how important this job was. It was more than getting a great tan. I was actually responsible for lives. To this day, those are still the most terrifying twenty minutes of my life.
March 27, 2011
March 22, 2011
How Much??
The other day I decided to look up the current cost of the college where I got my undergraduate degree. Linfield now costs over $39,000 a year for tuition, room and board, etc. That is significantly more than I paid to go there. My entire MBA didn’t even cost that much! After I got over the shock of how much the price tag for my undergraduate degree had gone up since I was there, I decided that I was pretty glad I was done with all my higher education.
I mentioned the recent tuition number to a friend who had also attended Linfield. She also voiced the thought that it’s a good thing we’re already done with that. Although, if we were paying that price now, we’d be much younger. Which got me thinking, is it better to be 30 or 18?
Most likely an 18-year old out say 18 without hesitating. But with birthdays comes wisdom. The main bonus of being 18 that I can think of is that your metabolism still runs. That is the only thing I could think of to go in the pro side of being 18 again. At 30, I’m done with school, I live on my own, have a disposable income, can do what I want when I want, can go to a bar, and don’t need anyone’s permission for anything. There is something to be said for that kind of freedom. My car is also significantly nicer than the one I drove at 18.
You spend your twenties discovering who you are and becoming comfortable in your own skin. You make lifelong friends in your twenties. You get to make poor decisions and have them only affect you (not a family). So many positive things happened in my twenties that I’m excited to keep moving forward, and have no desire to back in time. Being comfortable with yourself makes you a much happier person.
Seeing the current price tag of college made me very glad that I’m out of that phase of my life. Although it did make me wonder if I should start a college savings account for any possible future children before I had them. With birthdays, you get not only wisdom but responsibility. But at the end of the day, it’s still awfully good to be 30.
I mentioned the recent tuition number to a friend who had also attended Linfield. She also voiced the thought that it’s a good thing we’re already done with that. Although, if we were paying that price now, we’d be much younger. Which got me thinking, is it better to be 30 or 18?
Most likely an 18-year old out say 18 without hesitating. But with birthdays comes wisdom. The main bonus of being 18 that I can think of is that your metabolism still runs. That is the only thing I could think of to go in the pro side of being 18 again. At 30, I’m done with school, I live on my own, have a disposable income, can do what I want when I want, can go to a bar, and don’t need anyone’s permission for anything. There is something to be said for that kind of freedom. My car is also significantly nicer than the one I drove at 18.
You spend your twenties discovering who you are and becoming comfortable in your own skin. You make lifelong friends in your twenties. You get to make poor decisions and have them only affect you (not a family). So many positive things happened in my twenties that I’m excited to keep moving forward, and have no desire to back in time. Being comfortable with yourself makes you a much happier person.
Seeing the current price tag of college made me very glad that I’m out of that phase of my life. Although it did make me wonder if I should start a college savings account for any possible future children before I had them. With birthdays, you get not only wisdom but responsibility. But at the end of the day, it’s still awfully good to be 30.
March 21, 2011
Learning to Travel
As a kid, I did all my traveling with my family. Obviously. My mom made us take a mandatory family vacation every summer. I have strong memories of me being a surly teenager, sitting in the back of the minivan with my head phones on for the entire trip. I also have memories of the things we actually did and saw and at this age, can appreciate all that my mom did to make these trips happen. I’ve seen a lot of places in the western half of the US due to my mom’s annual family vacation requirement. Perhaps most importantly, I learned how to travel.
My brother and I are champion road-trippers. We can drive all day long, only stopping at rest stops and gas stations. I credit this to my parents doing long road trips with us when we were little. I remember briefly waking up when my parents buckled my seat belt at 4am so we could begin driving to Canada. I’d promptly fall back asleep and wake up when it was day light. We had a Subaru wagon back then and of course my brother and I had the usual fights about his stuff always creeping onto my side of the car. The middle section of the backseat was obviously mine. I was older, and at that time, bigger. End of discussion. My folks would probably tell you that was far from the end of the discussion (hence the next car being a minivan with separate seats).
The thing about long road trips is eventually you get good at them. You learn how to entertain yourself in a car for hours on end. You learn that it takes as long as it takes to get somewhere and asking “are we there yet,” and irritating your dad is not going to make the trip go any faster. You also learn not to smack your gum because it will immediately go out the window. Ahh, childhood travel memories.
Eventually I graduated on to doing trips with friends. In high school I got to go to Missoula for shopping and movies, to Schweitzer to go skiing, to Silver Mountain to see a concert, etc. At one point, I got to do an overnight trip, but that was because we were visiting a college campus and our parents were tired of driving us all over the place.
In college I did my first multi day road trips with friends. Eventually once I started working and had some disposable income, I did some overseas trips with friends. This is where I learned how important it is to be a good traveler. When you’re on a plane for twenty hours, even inflight movies get old at some point. And you’re going to be annoyed by the people you’re traveling with. At some point during my childhood, I realized that my parents had somehow abolished (too much) whining while traveling. I also learned that not everyone had this particular travel skill.
Oddly enough, I’ve come full travel circle. In May, I’m taking a trip to Italy. With my mom. Part of me feels like I’m regressing a bit. After all, you’re supposed to travel with your parents when you’re 3, not when you’re 30. But at this point, I’ve actually traveled more than my mom. Or at least to farther destinations. And there is something to be said for having a relationship with your mom that you don’t hesitate to spend almost two weeks together traveling.
I’ve been on the hunt for a new travel buddy the past few years. All my friends got married and started families, which makes it difficult for them to go bum around a foreign country for a couple weeks a year. In a way it makes sense to go back to traveling with the person who taught me to travel in the first place. And we’ll be in Italy! Tough to argue with that.
My brother and I are champion road-trippers. We can drive all day long, only stopping at rest stops and gas stations. I credit this to my parents doing long road trips with us when we were little. I remember briefly waking up when my parents buckled my seat belt at 4am so we could begin driving to Canada. I’d promptly fall back asleep and wake up when it was day light. We had a Subaru wagon back then and of course my brother and I had the usual fights about his stuff always creeping onto my side of the car. The middle section of the backseat was obviously mine. I was older, and at that time, bigger. End of discussion. My folks would probably tell you that was far from the end of the discussion (hence the next car being a minivan with separate seats).
The thing about long road trips is eventually you get good at them. You learn how to entertain yourself in a car for hours on end. You learn that it takes as long as it takes to get somewhere and asking “are we there yet,” and irritating your dad is not going to make the trip go any faster. You also learn not to smack your gum because it will immediately go out the window. Ahh, childhood travel memories.
Eventually I graduated on to doing trips with friends. In high school I got to go to Missoula for shopping and movies, to Schweitzer to go skiing, to Silver Mountain to see a concert, etc. At one point, I got to do an overnight trip, but that was because we were visiting a college campus and our parents were tired of driving us all over the place.
In college I did my first multi day road trips with friends. Eventually once I started working and had some disposable income, I did some overseas trips with friends. This is where I learned how important it is to be a good traveler. When you’re on a plane for twenty hours, even inflight movies get old at some point. And you’re going to be annoyed by the people you’re traveling with. At some point during my childhood, I realized that my parents had somehow abolished (too much) whining while traveling. I also learned that not everyone had this particular travel skill.
Oddly enough, I’ve come full travel circle. In May, I’m taking a trip to Italy. With my mom. Part of me feels like I’m regressing a bit. After all, you’re supposed to travel with your parents when you’re 3, not when you’re 30. But at this point, I’ve actually traveled more than my mom. Or at least to farther destinations. And there is something to be said for having a relationship with your mom that you don’t hesitate to spend almost two weeks together traveling.
I’ve been on the hunt for a new travel buddy the past few years. All my friends got married and started families, which makes it difficult for them to go bum around a foreign country for a couple weeks a year. In a way it makes sense to go back to traveling with the person who taught me to travel in the first place. And we’ll be in Italy! Tough to argue with that.
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