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.