A life long lesson

Summer: sweltering days, raging thunderstorms, outdoor concerts. These are just a few of the things that I correlate with summer. While most of my summer memories are indeed all peaches and cream, I must pause in my nostalgic state to remember one aspect of my youthful summer days that held a certain amount of, well, terror. You know what I'm talking about. That dreaded horror that darkens every child's summer: swimming lessons. Oh the horror.\nEveryone has been subjected to these aquatic nightmares at one point or another. Waking up in the wee hours to be flung into sub-arctic waters against our will by well-meaning parents with convoluted notions of what's "good for us." Breaststroke, free-stroke, backstroke and other implements of torture were all designed to ruin what would have otherwise been our youthful Eden. Orange "floatie" shackles impeded the youngest of us, and older participants trudged on for hours as our aquatic-dungeon keepers kept an un-blinking eye poised to spy out any attempts to make the process resemble anything close to fun. Escape? Not an option. "No running!" was decreed by the "lifeguard sentinels," thus squashing that idea. What about relief from our parents? Hardly. Their "You're building character," rallying cry still haunts my dreams. It was a hopeless situation where the only option seemed to be self-sacrifice (i.e. holding your breath underwater with hopes of passing out). Unfortunately, these attempts were also foiled by those dratted lifeguards. Curse you all.\nYears have passed since the "dark times." Fortunately, after hours of therapy, I have come to terms with these terrible episodes. Yet, one thing still perplexes me. What were my parents thinking? Were swimming lessons required to graduate college? Was your swimming instructor required to stamp your marriage certificate? Or were they preparing me for something else? \nThe more I think of it, the more I am convinced that my parents were certain that on some fateful day, my aquatic abilities would be called into action for the sake of humankind.\nPicture it. Here I stand, my back to the safety of land, ceaseless storms beat unrelentingly on the tossing seas below me. An ocean liner filled with children and nuns has wrecked upon the ragged coastline rocks, and it is up to me and me alone to save them. As I leap, taking the form of a majestic swan-dive, I know that those children, those nuns and I will all be thanking my mother for signing me up for summer swimming lessons. Think of the disaster that has been averted.\nSickening, isn't it? Unfortunately, this is the only conclusion I can come to that ends with me still holding respect for my parents. Hours of my youth were robbed from me in this terrible activity that has, as of yet, had no positive impact on me at all. Of course I can swim, but I could beforehand. All I learned from this was how easily one can fail a class by not following directions. Fail, you ask? Well yes, I can proudly say I did indeed fail swimming lessons as a child. I was humiliated when my younger brother was given permission to progress while I was politely asked to spend another summer in the same level of horror.\nBut maybe, that was the point. Sure, I don't backstroke on my way to class, and I rarely impress my friends with my awe-inspiring sidestroke abilities. But every day, every semester, I am reminded of what happens when one ignores the instructions set before them. \nSo if that was the point, then the lesson learned. Thanks Mom.