Nevertheless Marsupial is One of My Favorite Words

Barton Springs Early Morning Swim Report, 6/4/2024

81 degrees at 5:15—this is the Texas heat that really gets me down. My usual parking lot has been closed and will remain closed while they do over the changing rooms, so I have to take a path past the playground and over the miniature tracks of the miniature train. This morning as I set out, I saw a possum just off the path, toying with a piece of garbage. Once again, I wished I hadn’t watched Cocaine Bear on that plane ride, because I now believe that even the most blameless marsupial might attack me out of nowhere. We made some eye contact. Eventually, we both ambled on and away.

I swam last Tuesday, too, a little slowly, and when I got home I was a little congested, so for kicks I took a Covid test, and it turned out I had the damn thing. Today was my first day back, slow but cheerful. Last week when I was there I could have sworn that the two plastic ducks that mark off the territory of the diving board had been replaced by small fluorescent flamingos, but this morning the ducks were ducks, though new ones. Perhaps it was a Covid fever dream. Everything is extra-dark before sunrise these days because there’s no electricity in the building.

It’s been a funny couple of weeks! I was in New York City week before last—I got a nice prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and the ceremony ended with a small Laurie Anderson talk and performance that brought tears to my eyes, and I got to hang out with my beloved cousins Frank and Kathy (my second cousins once-removed), and my dear aunt Liz (whose name is also Elizabeth McCracken) and I press-ganged Paul Lisicky into going to a magic show.

Before too long I’ll head to England for the summer and won’t swim at Barton Springs for six weeks or so. I resent everything that keeps me away! Which is why I stared down that possibly drug-maddened possum: not today, Satan. (Satan is my nickname for all possums.)