Poolside State of Mind

As I sat poolside under the umbrella in a very comfy lounge chair, letting the breeze lull me into a trance, staring mindlessly into the bright blue water, enjoying a few minutes of respite in what has been and what will shortly be more busyness and responsibility, I pondered for a few minutes what it would be like to have a pool. I got to thinking whether I would have pool parties or if I would selfishly enjoy the tranquility and clean water all to myself.

I grew up in small town USA. Our town didn’t have a public pool. If we wanted to swim in that we needed to hitch a ride to one of two towns in opposite directions, both about 20 minutes away. There were four kids in my family spanning 10 years, which meant going anywhere was a chore. To go to the pool meant finding this year’s swimsuit for everyone that fit well enough to be seen in public from the box of hand-me-downs, packing up all of the flip-flops, towels, sunscreen, snacks, water, and attitudes, and piling into the woody station wagon. By the time we arrived at said pool, there was usually a swim break to clean the pool or rotate life guards, followed by limited swim time as the pool would be closing soon or we needed to get home to make dinner for dad.

A pool party at our house consisted of the 8-foot, plastic-sided, rubber-bottom pool in the yard outside of the leash-line for the dog so we didn’t step in any steaming piles. Shade? We don’t need no stinkin’ shade! The little white Illinois fish fried to a crisp early in the summer, set their base tan, and were good for the rest of the season. Skin cancer didn’t exist in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Learn to swim? Why bother, the entire pool might have been 12 inches deep.

But as I sit here next to this beautifully manicured garden and pool, I wondered what effort I would put into planning a pool party. A grown-up pool party. Like the ones I’ve seen on TV and in the movies. I don’t think I’ve actually ever been to one. It was hard to concentrate as I watched the fake blue waves lap against the smooth-edged tile which was set in a perfect pattern around the pool.

I’ve outgrown the B96 radio station, Eddie and JoBo party-jam-style parties where the booze and baby oil are excessive and the music gets you shut down. I’m not pretentious enough to have a glamour gown, high-heeled, full-face makeup, housewives-of-the-highest-paid-plastic-surgeon party. I think a fun, relaxed, friend-filled gathering under the warm sun, with a cool, refreshing pool, plenty of food, and great conversation would suit me just fine.

Maybe it’s my age and stage of life, maybe it’s just today because I’m tired and enjoying the break, but there’s just something about sitting next to a pool under this umbrella, sipping my tart lemonade that sets my mind and body at ease. My cares momentarily melt away. This is the feeling I would want my guests to experience. They could come and go like an open house for a few hours. I would consult my catering friends to see what food would make the most sense to serve that isn’t too temperature sensitive but fits the pool vibe. I love the tart lemonade today, so that would be a must.

Depending on the number of guests, I would want to rent towels, lounge chairs, and tables, based on the space. I certainly couldn’t provide these things, I think my husband and I have three towels between us. Of course there would need to be catering with invisible waitstaff moving in and out of the crowd with ease, a bartender serving this tart lemonade with ocean life-shaped ice cubes and little umbrellas, and a DJ or someone making sure the music keeps playing and fits the mood throughout the party. Shade, shade, shade. I have so many skin sensitivities these days I appreciate a good sun shade and fan.

No hot tub. Hot tubs make a party wierd.

I would do my due diligence to see what makes a truly great pool party great. I’d take the best ideas that worked really well for my party and leave behind what didn’t. If I planned this party in Illinois where I live, as per usual, there would clearly need to be a party date, and a bad weather alternative. Even if I picked the most consistent weather month of the year – August – we could still have freak tornadoes, flooding rainstorms, excessive heat and humidity, or a random cold spell. Welcome to Chicago.

For now, I’m getting hot. I’m going to dip my toes in the water, maybe I’ll get in up to my ankles and splash a little water on my arms, but my time is almost up. The dream is over. Back to reality.

Have you planned a pool party? If you live in a part of the country where this is a regular phenomenon, I’d love to hear what you do!
Comment here or send me an email!

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