Hotel Pool, Orlando 2012

The general environment of the pool area was that of vapid spaciousness. A wasteful and woeful expanse of blanched concrete, that although ringed at the perimeter with actual, genetically programmed tropical plantings, nonetheless tolerated no living vegetation within its borders. It was a dead zone. Nor were there authentic stone features to be found and what stone things there were, were rendered with carved orangey falseness, betraying their empty hearts. The biggest outcropping of faux boulder was fashioned in the shape of collapsing, rotting loaf of bread standing on end in the deep end of the pool. Its excuse for existence was that of a multi tiered, relentless waterfall of a fountain feature. It delivered water with predictable monotony, adding artificial sound to an already visually artificial outcropping.

One could, if so inspired, sit at an apse, carved unnaturally into its waterline and peer, from that sorry grotto through the lens of a sheet of water it unnaturally offered. One could and I did. A stone's (if there was a real one) throw away at the shallow end, was a pool-bound water amusement, comprised of a raised platform assaulted by a tangle of ramps, tubes, buckets and mounted with what appeared to be cheerfully designed whaling harpoon canons all of them devices for the forcible ejection of water in search of fun. Rendered in the orange and blue any child or parent would immediately recognize as kid approved, It epitomized agreed-upon standards of fun potential. It should be noted that I saw not one child go near the funstrosity during my admittedly short stay. A child’s parents did play catch near it however, with a grapefruit sized soccer styled ball. Its sections were gayly imprinted with images of the Incredible Hulk. It should be noted that The Hulk, while being most assuredly incredible, is not any less credible than any other super hero or super villain in the Marvel pantheon. Rather like calling ones friend Sam "bipedal Sam" not just once or on a occasional whim but for half a century. I would humbly offer "The Prodigious Hulk". In any case, this couple carried on in their attempt to avoid taking any more than momentary possession of said ball, in reciprocating bliss, until, that is, they were interrupted by the lazy satellite of their son. This  presumed owner of the ball, dropped out of orbit, wanting in on the fun. Including the un-prodigious boy in their game, dictated that they move the field of play to chlorined depths in which a child would be less likely to drown. The game, now had new rules dictated by easy lobs to a pitifully inept, bad catch of a child. 

Feigning parental, if not sweet interest, did not last long and after a final, easy toss gone astray, they rose dripping and with somehow surprising ease, bearing their tedious sportsman of a child in arms, from the only environment in which I had ever known them to exist. 

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