random conversations from the pool...

Sitting in the hot tub at LaSolana enjoying the Arizona sunshine when I hear:

"Who were you talking about in the blog? Who's Big C?"

Lola is yet another lovely lady at the pool. She is also a much appreciated fan of the blog.

"Big C, my neighbor. He comes to the pool every so often."

"Is he the one who had his brother down here with him?"

"Yep," is my response.

"Big C, I like it. It has a ring to it."

We chat a little more about the weather before she states.

"You are good at keeping us guessing. You have some real talent as a writer."

I thank her for the compliment & ask what her plans are for the day.

"Cocktails & sunshine, more of the same. What do you have planned?"

"You are looking at it Lola," as I spread my arms wide in the hot tub, "It's more of the same for me too."

My best friend nowadays is an eighty eight year old gentlemen by the name of Gino. We chatted at the pool today.

"I saw your girlfriend again. When are you going to ask her out?"

"Which one Gino?"

"You know the one I'm talking about; the one with the dog."

A certain lady turns all the gentlemen's heads at LaSolana. She's not my girlfriend; I like to play along for the hell of it though.

"Don't tell anyone this Gino," making a shhhhh sound as fore finger covers mouth, "We are meeting up for a night cap."

"Bull shit," gruffly stating, "A women like that won't come within a mile of you."

"Why do you say that?

"Because you're broke," is his answer as he pulls both his front pockets from his swim trunks to emphasize my situation.

"What's money got to do with it?"

"Everything," adding, "You know the old adage?"

"What adage is that Gino?"

"No money, no honey," he states emphatically as he tucks his pockets back in, "Especially with a women of her quality."

We chat a little more about the weather before the subject shifts back to women:

"Did you see the new one staying here? She's a looker for sure."

Gino is in charge of scoping out all the local talent. His eyes are sharp for eighty eight years. I am familiar with the person he is referencing.

"I think her name is Wanda; or something like that. She is staying with her mother for a month is what she told me. She is cute."

"Why don't you ask her out," he blurts.

He makes it sound easy. It is if you have the courage.

"If I see her again I might do it Gino. I don't think she's here too long."

"Hurry up then. You don't want her to get away."

"What happens if she says no. I don't think I can take the rejection. It happens too often. I'm not up for it right now."

"How do you know she will say no? You don't know until you try. Maybe she'll see some potential in you that no one else is seeing. Man up son! She seems like a nice girl."

I've been explaining to him in bits & pieces a reality show concept premised on the comings & goings of the pool patrons at LaSolana. 

"You would be great for it Gino. People would love to see your tan; wit; smile & overall uniqueness at eighty eight years old. You are an anomaly & that's what people like to see."

He's catching on a little more about the concept.

"Are you talking about bringing cameras & all that stuff for television?"

"That's exactly what I am saying Gino. Think of all the fun to be had."

"I'll believe it when I see it," is his response.

"Okay Gino, when it happens I want you to be part of the ensemble. The audience would love to see a guy like you."

"I'll believe it when I see it," is his same response.

the Jack incident...

"I strained my left forearm a few weeks ago while dead lifting. It's starting to finally feel better," repeatedly squeezing my left hand into a fist while standing in the deep end of the pool, "Sloppy form is what did it to me Big C."

"I'll have you know I too am recovering from an arm & shoulder injury village idiot," as he floats effortlessly around the pool, "Do you want to know how my injury was caused?"

"How Big C?"

"I carried too many bottles of liquor home from Albertson's."

He is a retired KC businessman/gambler who calls the sunny confines of LaSolana home. He's a great neighbor & much appreciated fan of the blog as well.

"It all started when I decided to walk over to Albertson's because my supply was running low. I figure I'd get a little exercise in as well," Albertson's is roughly a fifteen minute walk from the entrance of LaSolana, "As I'm standing in front of the display I notice a coupon. It was a buy one; get the next one half off. There's no passing up a deal like that." 

Here's where the story turns for Big C:

"There were still two more fifths & a coupon left. I grabbed them both. Now I have four bottles of Jack. Are you following what I'm saying?"

"I am. It sounds like you got a hell of deal on your favorite liquid. Have you drank it all yet?"

"No," he says with a laugh, "I just bought it yesterday. I did put a dent in one of the bottles though," continuing with, "I forgot how heavy four bottles of Jack Daniels can be. Good gracious, I had to stop a few times on the way home to catch my breath and rest. The pain is absolutely grueling today," rubbing his left shoulder in agony.

"Big C, I'm drawing a picture in my mind of you walking home with two full bottles of Jack strapped to each wrist; huffing & puffing all the way. It's not a pretty picture good buddy. At least you got some good exercise," looking at the bright side of his predicament, "Keep up the walking & before you know it you'll be carrying a couple of cases home without breaking a sweat."

"In my dreams village idiot. I'm a far cry from my prime," as he grimaces again while stretching his arm in front of him, "Call it Jack Daniel's arm; actually it's a combination of arm and shoulder hurting right now. Call it the Jack arm/shoulder syndrome; or something like that."

We chat a little more about the weather before he tells me.

"I competed against Bruce, excuse me, Kaitlin Jenner in the decathlon. He, excuse me again, she was a tremendous athlete," Big C is a Big 12 decathlete from the seventies. 

"What?"

"Yep, he came to the KU relays right before the Olympics. I mean she came to the KU relays."

"What was it like to watch him?"

"You mean her. It was a treat. She could run, jump, throw & hurdle like no one I had ever seen before. There were no weaknesses. Kaitlyn won the the event without even taking her sweat pants off."

We float around the pool for a couple minutes before I say:

"Big C, you sound like you were some kind of playboy back in the day. All I hear from you are wine, dine & uh, well, you know the last one. OG is how the youth refer to guys like you nowadays."

"OG," he replies, "What's that?"

"Original Gangsta," is my rapid response, "It's how the young refer to men of your stature."

"OG," he says with flair, "I like it."

"What was it like back in the seventies & eighties Big C. Were you one of those guys who hung out at Studio 54."

"I actually went there in the early eighties. I was working in New York for a brokerage & the nightlife," taking a moment to reflect, "It was sensational. Studio 54 had all the freaks."

"Did you ever see Cher there?"

"No," adding with a laugh, "I saw Stallone pass by with his entourage. That was cool," taking another moment to reflect, "It was a lot of fun village idiot. It's hard on your body. I'm too old for those kind of hi jinks nowadays. I'd be dead in five minutes if I tried it again."

He proceeds to share a lurid tale about the time he tried to drink all the Jack Daniels in Kansas City. 

"Put that in your blog & see what people think," adding, "It was crazy back then; I was smack dab in the middle of it."

I ask him if he is 'seeing it'. The reality show concept at LaSolana is what I'm referring to.

"The writing is definitely in line. You're bringing it. Keep up the good work on the blog & who knows," shrugging his shoulders, "Stranger things have happened."

Big C & a number of other people are complimentary of the blog at the present; I appreciate the kind words.

the three stooges...

"I want you guys to give me a straight answer. Do you like what you're reading in the blog? Can you see it?"

"We can," is Oscar's reply from the pool.

"You betcha," his wife Dottie chimes.

"We all love it Rob. We can't wait for your next post," totes the sister in law Freida.

They are the three stooges: They're much appreciated fans of the blog as well.

"All you guys do is tell me how good I am. It's starting to go to my head." 

Lately, everyone is complimentary of the writing; in turn it provides a shot of confidence. 

"When do the cameras start rolling Rob? I've got to have my game face ready," Oscar is husband to Dottie & brother in law to Freida. 

"Don't know for sure buddy. They're production issues still being discussed. Hopefully soon."

"I got an idea for you. We can get some young guys and gals to run around in bikini's & speedo's. It would sex the place up," he's not the first guy to suggest it.

"Unfortunately Oscar," adding with a smile, "That crowd cost money to bring in. Not in the budget."

"Maybe down the road?"

"If it is successful. Hell yeah!"

"Rob, I got a story for you to put in the blog. Every one will think you hang around crazy people after they hear what I did?"

"What did you do Freida?"

"Now keep in mind I had a little too much wine when this happened," winking and smiling.

She proceeds to tell me a lurid tale about a wild night years ago, "You should have seen me back in the day. Guys turned their heads where ever I went. Now that I'm a bit seasoned; not so much."

"You are still a looker Freida. Don't let anyone tell you differently. You are like fine wine. Besides, everyone knows seventy is the new fifty."

"You are the sweetest guy Rob. Why hasn't a women come in and swept you up?"

She is the third person to ask the question.

"I don't want the hassle of it right now. I'm too self absorbed for a meaningful relationship at this stage of my life. It sucks because there sure are a lot of lovely ladies running around the pool."

"You really know how to lay it on thick," Freida says in a coy tone, "Let me know what you want me to do."

"Rob, we finally figured out who the inspiration for Lilly is. You gave it away when you mentioned her passion for sewing." 

Dottie is yet another fan of the blog. She is sister to Freida & wife to Oscar.

"You are the third person to tell me Dottie. I have a question for you."

"Fire away," she replies.

"The fashionista type is easy to spot if you are a women. Guys don't pay attention to things like that? Am I correct in saying that?"

Dottie & Freida share a leisurely/fashionable look.

"Leisure & fashion is what it is all about for the ladies," Dottie states while paddling through the shallow end, "You could show people how fashionable old people can be."

I'm going to end this post by sharing a feeling I'm having. Is momentum a feeling?

  

The sewing circle...Part 2

The sewing circle is often defined as a group of women who meet regularly, sewing, often for charitable causes while chatting and/or gossiping:

"Oh boy," is my first response as I wade into the pool while staring up at the Arizona sunshine, "It sure does feel good. The water is perfecto," the pool is an important part of life for people who call the desert sunshine home, "What do you think the pool water is Miss Kitty? Seventy five, probably closer to seventy seven."

"It's seventy eight Rob, I checked the thermometer already," is the answer from the lawn chair she is sunning on.

"Seventy eight, Jesus, I think I am going to freeze to death."

"Oh Rob," she says with a glowing smile, "You are so funny. Did you ever think about being a stand up comedian?"

"At one point in my life I did have the desire. Even got on stage a couple of times. Do you want to know what my problem was Miss Kitty?"

"What," is her reply with a wide smile.

"People back then didn't find me funny one bit. It was before I learned to write though. I was for sure I'd be the next Andrew Dice Clay. That dream crashed a long time ago."

"Well I don't care what anyone says Rob, I think you're funny."

Miss Kitty is well mannered; well heeled; well prepared; well thought of; she is a lovely women inside & out. 

"Miss Kitty, you sure are nice. It brightens my day every time I see you and the rest of the sewing circle at the pool."

"Oh Rob, you are the sweetest guy. I can't believe a girl hasn't come in and swept you up. If I was twenty years younger we would be an item."

Her wittiness is yet another thing to adore. The conversation turns to a proposed reality show revolving around the comings & goings of the patrons at the LaSolana pool.

"I got you pegged for the show Miss Kitty. You are perfect for what I am envisioning."

"I already told you I'm in Rob. All I want you to do is make me look cool to my grand kids."

"No problem Miss Kitty. That'll be easy pickings."

I wade over to the other side of the pool & resume a chat I was having with Lilly from the other day. Do you want to know what makes Lilly unique from the rest of the sewing circle? She's the only one who actually sews.

"I got my new sewing machine in the other day Rob. I tell you this thing is phenomenal. The software enables exact stitching. It's my new baby."

Lilly is the resident fashionista. Sewing is her passion.

"The entire front room at my condo is lined with sewing machines Rob."

"That's a lot of sewing machines for one condo Lilly. It sounds like you're running a business up there."

"Nope, I just love to sew."

We chat a little more about the weather & I ask, "Are you game for a reality show about the comings & goings of everyone at the LaSolana pool? You would be awesome!"

Lilly, Miss Kitty & a number of other lovely ladies at LaSolana  provide much fodder for such an idea.

"I don't know Rob. I got to think about it for a while. I definitely agree with your idea though. I don't know if it's my thing or not."

"No problem," while adding, "It's all talk and no action at this juncture. The idea is gaining steam though. The more people I share it with the more plausible it's becoming."

"How many people do you have commitments from?"

"At last count I had seven verbals. Put you in there and I'll have eight," stressing, "It's all talk right now. Keep in mind; talk is cheap & easy."

When I think really hard about how things should play out in such a proposed venture I get a world's coolest grandmother vibe. Those kind of things sell!

the pianist...

Exiting my car after returning from my associate Fred's place & notice a slow moving man stumbling across the parking lot. At second glance I recognize him. It's my neighbor Jack; he wasn't moving too fast:

"Jack," startling him, "What's going on buddy? How have things been?"

He doesn't recognize me.

"It's your friend Rob from the pool. The guy who loves the Chiefs!"

During the summer we saw a great deal of him at the pool. I enjoyed his company. He doesn't look to good nowadays.

"Oh yeah Rob," he mumbles after my reintroduction, "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing good. What have you been up to?"

"I'm just going to the store to get some more supplies," is his wobbly answer.

I wish him a good night & proceed to make my way home.

"Can you give me a ride? I shouldn't be driving," in a somber tone.

"Okay Jack, I'll give you a ride. Do you have a mask?"

He flashes one from his pocket.

"Okay, looks good, let me run inside real quick and grab mine. I''ll be back in a minute."

I return; pull the van to the curb; open the double doors; clear a few things off the seat & assist Jack into the vehicle.

"Did you see how bad the Chiefs stunk it up in the Super Bowl? It was pathetic," a little small talk is in order to prevent him from passing out on our trek to Albertson's.

There is no response.

Checking the mirror & he is conscious. I scrap the small talk & pull up to the entrance of Albertson's to drop him off.

"Do you need any help getting out?"

"No," as he snaps out of a fog, "Let me see if I can do it myself." 

He takes his time and exits the van without incident. I park & meet him at the carts.

"I'm going to get a few things as well Jack. I'll meet you at the front when I'm done."

"Okay," in a slur as he drives away on a scooter cart

My shopping cart consists of six limes (lime water); chicken breast; two Bud light tallboys; milk duds; cauliflower; tortilla's; Preparation H & a few cans of tuna...add a Snicker's at the checkout as well.

"Their you are," is the first thing I hear exiting the store, "Are you ready to go?"

He has a relieved look on his face as I pull the van to the entrance. After assisting him into the vehicle our two minute trip home begins.

"I really appreciate this. You're doing me a solid," he's more alert on the ride home, "Maybe one of these days you can come up to my place & I can play the piano for you."

"Sure Jack, I would enjoy something like that."

I turn the van into the complex & pull to the curb.

"You're going to have to help me get out. If you would please."

Without hesitation I exit the vehicle & open the double doors. He grabs my arm and gently makes his way out.

"You're the best man," as we bump elbows, "I really appreciate you looking out for me."

The gratitude brings a wide smile to my face.

"I'm going to the elevator now," are his parting words as I watch him stumble inside the building.

As I am parking the van a lasting thought goes through my head, "If you see someone in his kind of shape...Do not hesitate to help! The last thing in the world they should be doing is driving."

the fashionista...

I've been floating an idea of a reality show based on the comings & goings of the patrons at the LaSolana pool. Today at the pool I chatted more in depth about it with a member of the prospective ensemble:

"I have a good name for the show Rob."

"What?"

"You should call it...the waiting room."

Lilly is just one of the many humorous patrons of the pool. She's also a fan of the blog & provides much needed feedback.

"Hmm," as I scratch my chin, "The title certainly fits the surroundings."

Lillian (Lilly) Lamont is a retired swimsuit model from the seventies who winters at LaSolana.

"All you got to do is take one look around," as she shrugs her shoulder, "If this isn't the waiting room. What is?"

I would describe the average age of the patrons at the pool as seasoned; very seasoned. It's what makes them unique.

"Tell your friend Roy to call his ex wife. He still loves her," she is referencing a hard luck character from the blog.

"It's too late for that Lilly. The ship sailed a long time ago. All he can do now is hold her in his heart & wish her the best."

"True love," she says with a sigh, "It's too bad he wasted it."

"Yep," is the only answer I can muster.

We float around the pool for a while; kicking around ideas of what people may enjoy in a reality show at the LaSolana pool:

"One thing is for sure Lilly. We have to put a spotlight on how fashionable you are. You have exquisite taste."

"Oh Rob, you're so sweet. You are going to make me blush," her pool garb consist of a Neiman Marcus sundress; Cartier Paris sunglasses; Louis Vutton tote bag; Stuart Weitzman sandals & a handful of other designer accessories...all I bring to the pool is a towel.

"I'm being serious though. When the cameras start rolling you should be portrayed as the fashionista that you are."

"You're just the sweetest," is her response with a smile, "As long as you make me look cool to my grand kids Rob. That's the only thing I'm worried about."

"That'll be easy Lilly. You're already cool."

the thespian...

I have been floating a concept about a reality show based on the comings & goings of the patrons at the LaSolana pool. Today I shared the idea with Ace.

"Ace, they tell me you are the guy I am looking for. Do you know much about a blog?" 

A number of pleasant people frequent the pool...Arthur (Ace) Dasher is one of them. His background spans over fifty years in the film/television industry.

"I know a little about blogs," he says with a curious look, "Why? What's up?"

"Bare with me for a minute while I give you the rundown," I always ask for extended patience before I start a pitch; or a rant. "Ace, I have been writing a blog called the village idiot of Las Vegas for a number of years. If you check it out I am sure you will like it. Everyone who reads it tells me such. Now I'll be honest with you; I would like to see my writing come to life in some sort of reality production. The premise of the show would revolve around the comings & goings of the old people at the pool."

I stop talking & wait for his response.

"Hmmm," is always the initial response when I first pitch the idea to people, "Let me get this straight. You want to recruit the old people here & have them help you in a reality show?"

"Yep," is my immediate answer.

"Hmm," he says again while scratching his chin, "That is a very interesting concept. Have you written a script? How would you format it?"

"I'm working on a script right now Ace. All the filming would be done at the LaSolana pool. Thus keeping the cast in a familiar setting. The goal of this venture is simple. Thirty minutes of quality humor professionally edited in order to present a prospective show runner."

"How far along are you with the script?"

"It's getting there," is my answer, "The thing I'm asking from you right now is to spend a little time reading my blog. Give me a professional take on whether you think I have the writing 'chops' to support my idea. I need to hear a professional's opinion on the matter."

A few days after our initial conversation I run into Ace at the pool again:

"I enjoyed your blog. You have some real talent."

"I appreciate the compliment Ace. I really do."

"How long have you been writing?"

"Off & on for ten years."

"It's good stuff," he says with a smile, "What is the deal with this Roy guy?"

He is referencing a character from the blog.

"He's a buddy of mine from Kansas who doesn't know any better."

"How old is this clown?"

"Roy is my age; or close to it."

"This guy sounds like a real tool."

"He is," I say with a laugh, "He's the biggest tool you'll ever meet."

I ask if he can envision what we discussed a few days earlier.

"I can with a few caveats."

"Like what?"

"Backstories for everyone. The audience has to connect from every angle. Do you have a lock down solid script as well?"

"Backstories are easy," is my first response, "The script is taking some effort; nothing I can't figure out though."

The conversation shifts to his acting career.

"I honed a lot of the craft under the tutelage of Stella Adler. The first thing she would tell people is, 'If you can see it; you can do it."

"I can definitely see it Ace. That much is for sure." 

"I can see it to pal," is his enthusiastic response, "You still have to come up with a viable script. When can you have it?"

"Soon Ace," is my immediate response.

"Who do you have in mind for the cast? What about production?"

"I've chatted with several patrons of the pool & they have agreed to participate. The production part is still up in the air."