Monday, August 3, 2009

King Tootfartanomma

Some of my fondest childhood memories involve visiting my Grandma Beck. You see, she had a pool. And, as any child can tell you, a pool trumps everything. It was always the first thing we wanted to do when we got there. In an effort to keep the kids from being in the pool 24 hours a day, there was a rule that we couldn't go into the pool until the sun was shining on the pool. It was either to keep us from turning into prunes or just to torture us. I suspect the latter. Adults can be cruel. They need their fun too, so I can't blame them for the mind games.

But we would wait, religiously, by the door....waiting till the sun hit the pool. We'd sit there, staring, willing the sun to move faster. Asking every 25 seconds..."can we go in? Can we? Can we?"
We'd lather up with sunscreen, the highest SPF known to man and probably also expired.... and we'd wait. And wait....and the minute that sun would hit the pool, we were in! Success! We never noticed the passing of time. We didn't notice that our eyes were red from the chlorine, our shoulders burned from the sun, our attitudes less than pleasant from exhaustion. All of these things are not noticed as a child. Because the pool could fix anything. Amongst me, my siblings and our cousins...treaties were created in the pool, cease-fires were mandated, alliances we could have never seen coming were formed. For, the fixed everything.

As we swam the length of the pool and frolicked and played....we'd pass an outcropping of palm fronds...beneath them, ever so stoically, sat a statue. A statue, our pool master, named King Tootfartanomma. (aptly named by who else? The eldest of the boy cousins.... of course.)

And, as we would swim by....we would always pay homage to our great pool master....
"Long live King Tootfartanomma! King Toot....fart....anooomma...."

Some of my fondest memories of childhood involve that pool and King Tootfartanomma. Grandma's pool. Nothing could beat it.
Well, guess what? The monster, also known as Grandma, filled it with dirt and rocks because she didn't want to maintain the pool anymore. No notice, nothing!

King Tootfartanomma will reign no more. Long live King Tooooot....fart....anooooooommmma..... You will live on in our hearts, Tootfart...forever.


Rae said...

Well it's not nice to pick on your poor OLD Grandma, I had to fill the pool in, you wouldn't come swimming anymore. so it's really your fault!
It was alot of fun and sometimes I really miss the pool but I don't miss the expense or the cleaning, or the chemicals.

Bryan said...

Wait a minute....The King should still be there. Under the same palms, only looking at gravel now. He has been promised to me and if anyone besides me ends up with him their luck will fade quicker than Greg Brady's did that summer in Hawaii.

One day King Tootfartanamma will reign in triumph with me like the fathers of old prophesied! Long live the King! I toot and fart anomma for you King!

Lonna said...

Bryan, rest assured. I have seen the King. His only comfort, a few small palm trees keep the desert's beating heat off his tiny, tiny sholders. His life one of loneliness and misery. No one comes by, no one calls. Occasionally he sees Grandma as she walks past the patio door. That's it. King Tootfartanomma should be re-named. King Tootfartalone.

Tami said...

What a sad ending to such a great memory. Well, I guess life goes'll just never be the same. ;)

Rae said...

Bryan, rest assured that the King still reigns! I do go out and visit him and water the palms around, as a matter of fact I've done such a great job I can't even see him any more, he is enshrouded with palms. I do however always speak to him, but ay least now he is so covered he's no longer pray to bird poop. So his new name is King Tootanobirdpoop.

Elise said...

This is an awesome post.....remember our beloved game of shark. Ohhhh....the pool. Our beloved pool- it did betray me when Liza fell in one night, permanently traumatizing me by how slow my parents reacted when I broke the news of her almost demize. The sight of her with her hand raised hopping up and down still haunts my dreams.

Dolphin Man said...

i learned to swim in that pool under the watchful eye of the Great King. I fondly remember my father lovingly throwing me in the deep end and telling me to swim. He left my fate in the hands of the King. Oh snap, he didn't have any hands, or legs. I barely survived the trip to the darkest depths of the pool. Only after defeating the leviathan, did I surface for air. "Memories, like fingerprints, are slowly raising."