I’ve been a bad, bad girl. Sometimes you just have to do what feels right even when The Law says otherwise. And sometimes you just have to do what feels right even if that involves a culpable level of premeditation and intent.
This lovely place is the scene of the crime, the idea for which came to me last night when I was writing yesterday’s belated blog entry. The more I thought about Reggie and his dogged zeal, I realized what’s been missing from my more humane approach. I’ve been following the rules, staying on leash, and being an overall good girl. Whoever trained me trained me well…too well. And right now all the treats and patting and praising aren’t going to make up for the fact that I’ve been living a life that’s far too obedient and docile. Heck, even Lassie got to run around off-leash and kick up her furry heels every now and again: why shouldn’t I allow myself a similar stint of free heedlessness?
Dogs are allowed at Goose Pond, fishing is allowed at Goose Pond, and even mountain bikers are allowed at Goose Pond. But, for some reason, swimming is Not Allowed: why should that be? If Goose Pond were a source of drinking water for the community, it would make sense to keep swimmers from contaminating its water…but if that were the case, dogs would be disallowed, too. If Goose Pond were already polluted, a toxic site from some long-forgotten industrial runoff, it would make sense to protect swimmers from chemical exposure…but if Goose Pond were contaminated, fishing would be dangerous, too. And if swimming were an erosive danger to the delicate shoreline of Goose Pond, even I would refrain from dabbling even a toe into its crystal waters…but if the city is concerned about erosion, why do they allow mountain bikes to scar its trails?
In a word, there is no good reason to prohibit swimming at Goose Pond, but I suppose there are plenty of legalistic ones. If the City allowed swimming at Goose Pond, they and their insurance company would be responsible for any subsequent injuries. Rather than facing the lawsuits and bad press that would flourish in the aftermath of any natatorial mishaps, the City chose to take the safe way out: outlaw swimming in order to protect citizens from themselves and the presumed dangers of the deep. After all, Goose Pond looks like a mighty dangerous place, don’t you think? And this wild-and-crazy 35-year-old college professor just might get completely out of hand if she were legally allowed to swim there: just imagine the carnage and disaster that would ensue if The Law weren’t there to protect her from her own aquatic tendencies?
With echoes of Henry David Thoreau’s “Civil Disobedience” ringing in my mind, this morning I drove with the dog to Goose Pond, swimsuit under my shorts and T-shirt, fully intending to break the law. Thoreau, of course, recognized that unjust laws exist and that it might take a lifetime to retool the machinery of an unjust or simply inept government. Given these facts, Thoreau argued that transgressing an unjust law is one way to “Let your life be a counter-friction to stop the machine.” Perhaps someday the City of Keene will change the rules governing the use of Goose Pond…but in the meantime, time’s a-wastin’. Rather than waiting for a new sign with new rules, this morning I did my part to make some friction.
Goose Pond actually looks a bit like Thoreau’s own Walden Pond, and given that Thoreau’s mother was born in Keene and he visited the town at least once during an expedition to Canada, it’s even possible that Thoreau himself visited Goose Pond. Such speculations aside, though, Goose Pond is about the same size as Walden Pond and equally lovely, but on even the hottest day, Goose Pond is never nearly as crowded as Walden, which serves as a popular and officially sanctioned local swimming hole. So perhaps that sign decreeing that No Swimming Shall Be Allowed at Goose Pond is a blessing in disguise: as things stand, only diehard rule-breakers like myself have the nerve to sample Goose Pond’s tranquil waters, a well-kept secret that promises to remain well-kept.
Why, you might ask, did I feel the need to violate the law in such a flagrant fashion? Why go swimming at all today, and why choose to swim at Goose Pond when there are other local places where swimming is allowed? After watching Reg relish his off-leash excursion into the Ashuelot River the other day, I remembered that in years past (when we lived in Massachusetts at least) I’d go several times each summer to Walden Pond, where I’d swim off a secluded corner of shoreline away from the officially sanctioned beach. In those days, summer wasn’t summer until I’d gone swimming, and swimming at a beach or pool just didn’t cut it: it had to be Walden Pond, and it had to be on one of Walden’s isolated shores, somewhere were you weren’t exactly supposed to swim.
And so today, Goose Pond served as my Walden. The place where I swam was on the shady backside of a piny peninsula; only a narrow dirt path led down to a hard-bottomed shore. As the dog looked on in utter amazement, this being the first time I’ve gone swimming with him, I quietly, slowly floated out about 10 yards from shore: far enough to feel afloat in the middle of what Thoreau termed earth’s eye but close enough to keep near Reg with his fear of deep water. Today’s swim wasn’t long but it certainly was good: after about 10 minutes of cruising the piney shoreline, I returned to that dirt path where I stretched out on the earth, my T-shirt and fleece sweater spread on the ground like a blanket. As Reg investigated the nearby undergrowth, I let the sun dry my skin as red-eyed vireos, black-throated green warblers, and eastern wood pewees sang from the trees overhead, the air zipping with dragonflies.
It might have been a crime, this brief dip in Goose Pond, but it sure felt good. Summer isn’t summer until you’ve celebrated your own private rituals of initiation, and sometimes secret sin is just the ticket to easing into the season. After toasting in the morning sun for 20 minutes or so, I shook off that T-shirt and fleece, clambered back into hiking shorts, and headed back around the pond. Today was beautiful, you see, and to have resisted such a siren lure would have been criminal.
Jul 1, 2004 at 8:13 am
Good for you! I just hope the Keene city officials aren’t reading your blog. It’s probably good that you didn’t take any photographs of you or Reggie swimming in Goose Pond. And if challenged, you could always say you were writing fiction.
Of course we all know laws are intended to protect the stupid. And yes, to make the lawyers wealthy.
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Jul 1, 2004 at 11:01 am
That sounds like it was so much fun!
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Jul 1, 2004 at 11:57 am
Just seeing it and hearing about it as I sit here steaming and drinking hot tea, of all things, makes me want to go dive in there right now! Alas, too many other commitments today. We have a lake here in Grafton with a raft and a lifeguard and a roped off area. It doesn’t get too crowded though and despite brackish water that you can’t see 6 inches into (kinda creepy), it’s clean and offers a good chance to cool off. But it just doesn’t offer the kind of sinful illicit swim you describe!
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Jul 1, 2004 at 4:59 pm
Heh, this reminds me of the Death scene in “The Meaning of Life” where the entire dinner party expires from poisoned tinned salmon, but as they drive their cars to Heaven you hear one of them whining “But I didn’t even eat the salmon”.
You did eat the salmon, you will die happy!
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Jul 2, 2004 at 12:00 am
Aaaaaah, you thought I wouldn’t catch the Fiona Apple reference! That’s one woman with a truly gorgeous voice– too gorgeous for pop. Unfortunately, she’s also one of the most messed-up ladies in the business. I had the pleasure of reading her whacked-out interview in Spin Magazine a couple years back, when she was big. What’s she been up to lately? Anything? In the interview, she stated her strong conviction that she’d be dead by 25. I wonder if this is code language for “I’ll start wearing underwear again when I’m 25.”
Well, Fiona shares a Loriannical yen for transgression, though I’m not sure she can sit still long enough for ch’am-seon.
Kevin
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Jul 2, 2004 at 7:57 pm
Ron, I love your statement that “laws are intended to protect the stupid”: how true! I have little fear that any Keene city officials are reading this blog: I’m sure they have other things to do & don’t even know I exist! But as you yourself note, I took care not to post any incriminating (photographic) evidence!
Pragmatik, it *was* lots of fun! I don’t know if you ever encountered it during your days at BC, but when I was a grad student at BC, the Grad Student Association hosted a weekly “Attitude Adjustment Hour” with cheap beer, free munchies, and ample opportunity to commiserate with other stressed-out grad students. This swim at Goose Pond was my tee-totaling, solitary equivalent of those Attitude Adjustment Hours.
Leslee, all you need to do to make your cooling dip a bit more illicit would be to swim outside (or beyond!) the roped-in lifeguarded area. Even a little bit of sin tastes delicious to a do-gooder soul! ๐
Jeremy, it’s been *ages* since I watched *The Meaning of Life,* so thanks for reminding me of that scene! It’s all about eating the salmon, isn’t it?
Kevin, you win the prize for noting (yes!) the Fiona Apple allusion: ding, ding, ding! (Unfortunately, I have no grand prize, so you’ll just have to preen yourself with the pride of knowing you’re In the Know.) I laughed out loud at your reference to Fiona Apple’s underwear since the video to “Criminal” looks like one of those underwear/jeans ads where no one is actually *wearing* much of the advertised clothing.
Glad to hear that you all enjoyed a bit of vicarious thrill at my transgressive swimming! ๐
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Jul 2, 2004 at 8:51 pm
I’ve been parched, and an presently huddled down into my safety zone, so it was unbelievably refreshing to (semi)witness your deliberate trangression. I won’t lie; I admire you for your intellect and wit and even your doctoral degree, but my real worship lies in your willingness to push the boundaries and flaunt your sins for all to see. A very deep curtsy is in order. I bow down in appreciation of your cajones, even as I revel in the feel of the water against your (transgressing) skin. Dare I say that I’m proud of you?
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Jul 6, 2004 at 7:14 pm
ntexas, thanks for the lush praise, and apologies for not responding sooner! (I’ve been “aswim” with obligations of all sorts!) ๐ I know exactly what you mean when you describe yourself as being “parched”: believe me, I’ve been there/done that! I think it’s that level of dry desperation that makes any sort of “quick dip” even more delicious: if I were the type who went swimming all the time, for instance, my excursion to Goose Pond would have been no big deal! But those of us who keep ourselves on a tight leash (and I suspect you’re one!) deeply need & thus revel in those *little* transgressions that bring a taste of freedom. I’m so happy you found even a spot of vicarious thrill!
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Jul 7, 2004 at 7:44 pm
Ahhhhhh, I love thoes pictures. Currently I’ve been having a love affair with lakes (having just gotten back from a week in the Finger Lakes of New York).
I even stopped by the local real estate office to price lake houses! Ooooo, ouch! Maybe not! ๐ I’d have to be a corporate slave for the rest of my life to afford it!!
I think visiting and camping next to the lakes will be JUST FINE.
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Jul 8, 2004 at 10:33 am
John, I’ve never been to the Finger Lakes, but I hear they’re lovely! I agree with your decision about a lake-front house: although the view is appealing, the lifestyle needed to *finance* that view is daunting! What I love about Goose Pond is the fact that it’s owned by the City, so it’s free for residents to enjoy. Although I don’t agree with all the rules, I’m willing to share “my” Pond in order to enjoy it cheaply!
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