DON'T GO NEAR THE WATER

As much as I love summer, I’m not too keen on sticking my feet into a body of water, unless I’m in a hot tub. Oh, I can swim okay, but it had better be in a quiet, heated pool. I don't like sharing my water space with fish and turtles and snakes and other slimy creatures.

I can’t dive. I took lessons for one day at the old Fredonia pool when I was 8 or 9. After swallowing what seemed like a gallon of water on my first attempt off the board, and choking so much that the instructor had to toss a lifesaving device to me, talk about embarrassing, I never went back. “If at first you don’t succeed, quit.” That’s The Flaming Bore Diving Motto.

I’ve traveled via water…speedboat, sailboat, steamboat, canoe, and the like, but it’s never tripped my trigger. I’m not even interested in taking one of those Titanic-sized cruises on a luxury ship. And, I’ve taken dips, ho-hum, in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, as well as the Gulf of Mexico, the latter being the site of a near-death experience trying to save a #$@! inner tube that my younger sister let slip away into the wild blue. You’ve seen one wave, you’ve seen ‘em all.

Need I say more? Of course, I should. When my one-time husband sold OUR motorcycle so he could buy a jet-ski that he knew I would never ride, the marriage came to a screeching halt. That’s how much I dislike water sports. Plus, I look lousy in a swimsuit. That, in itself, is reason enough. One look at me in my 20-year-old, black and gold, skirted, 1-piece floral number, and you’ll know for certain why I’ve decided to “Just Say No to H2O.”