|Home of the unearned turn.|
While I was growing up our local pool had a high dive that towered above the water. It was a horrifying and exhilarating thing. Rumors abounded about “this kid” who slipped and fell to the pavement onto his head, or “that kid” who did a can-opener the wrong way and split his gut wide open when he hit the water. It was probably only fifteen feet high, but back then it felt like a hundred. It was a rite of passage to make your way up to the board and take your first leap. It was the kind of place where you tested your meddle and became one of the big kids.
Sometimes I’m reminded of the feeling I got on my first trip up that slippery metal ladder and out onto the thin, shaky board.