VI: Can't go back to Constantinople

I was thinking, earlier today, about those kids who grew up with pools.

Did they grow to hate swimming? Did they resent the obligation to throw pool parties? Were they constantly paranoid that kids were only their friends to get invited to said parties? I don't know. I always wonder.

Growing up, my best friend Drew had a pool, and I'm pretty sure he enjoyed it. He and I were quite different and I wonder now whether my parents thought he might've been a negative influence on me - and whether his parents might've hoped I had the opposite effect. He wasn't, and I didn't. Anyway, he used to take us night-swimming during sleepovers, and in the later years of our friendship had pool/dance parties on his birthday. But I always wonder if, on a casual afternoon, a kid with a pool might cast a glance out that window and mutter, "you're not worth it."

Idle thoughts of an unused mind.

I finally made myself a new pair of shorts from those pants that were frayed. However, they're a bit too long and baggy, but them's the breaks.

Yesterday I had the whole house to myself for hours on end and did absolutely nothing. Today I slept in until noon. Life is peachy.

Well, if you look at it from a glass-half-full kinda way.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto