Can you hear me now?

So. Today I began triathlon training, finally. Half Ironman distance, specifically. It means I shed one day a week of running, and have at least 2 disciplines a few other days. Long runs move to Thursdays, long bike on Sunday. 'Bout time - I was starting to feel like a runner out there, and a crappy one at that.

Anyhoo, returned to the pool today. The first time in the water since Ironman. Sheesh. And it showed. But here's something new - dude was there talking on his cellphone. No no, you aren't envisioning it. I mean, in the water. On his phone, in the water. Yup. Youngish dude, twenty-something. At first hanging on the side, and then water walking. With his phone. In the freaking pool.

Now, as you know, I'm an incredibly important person. I'm in very high demand, what with the little round basset hound pestering me all day for one thing or another and everybody's favorite yellow lab Jackie awaiting anxiously the slightest breath of adventure. I must get several emails an hour when I'm at work. An hour! Sometimes, when ichat is open, I have all kinds of colleagues needing my attention. Yes, the world does indeed revolve around me. Why, just today my wife called, "Babe?! Can you help me with something?!" and had I not been there to come to her rescue ("I bought a new rug at Target. It's in my car, can you get it?") well, I hate to consider how things may have gone. I shiver just thinking of it. Indeed the world has an axis and it is me.

And even I, in all of my importance, am clearly no more remarkable than Britney Spears' hairdresser (an easy gig, if you can get it!) in comparison to the twentysomethingish dude who had to talk on his phone while walking in a swimming pool. At a gym. This dude has some serious shit going on in his life. Like, National Security shit. Like, you me and the basset hound better thank Tom Cruise and his witchcraft that dude is here to take this call right now - "This is Galactica Actual. Fire on my mark, dammit!" - because had he not taken that call, had he shut the phone down or maybe considered taking the call in a few minutes just after being in the pool - well. All I can assume is that something of profound magnitude, for which the world at large was requiring of his assistance, forced him to his cellphone. While walking. In a pool. And I for one am indebted.

Because for you or me, it would have simply meant turning the thing off, or hearing it ring and letting it go to voicemail because now was swimming time, and phone time can come after swimming time. That's because we lack the importance which requires dude to be on call, all the time, cell phone in hand. No no, for dude it had to have gone something like - "Hello? What?!?! Sweet Josephine this is serious. Just a minute, I'm taking off my pants. What? No of course I don't want to hang up, I require the details. Yes. Yes. Tell the President we're moving to Defon 1. Tell Picard we need more power. Mmm hmm, yes. No, right now I'm naked among other naked men, many of them not terribly handsome, none as important as me. Yes. Yes. Ouch! What? No, sorry, I tripped. Yes, still in the locker room. Tell Neo that we think there's been a breach. I've put on my swimming suit though now, so I'm prepared to continue this conversation as we must. Right. Leaving the locker room now, heading to the pool. No. Can we conference the Prime Minister in? Do it now, dammit, don't you understand time is of the essence?!? Yes. Ooooh! Sorry, no, startled. Water's a bit chilly! (away from phone - Hey! Watch the splashing dammit can't you see I'm on the damn phone!?!) Sorry, okay, go ahead. No we can't talk after I'm done swimming! Alert Lord Vader that the plans to the Death Star have been stolen and that his son may or may not have made out with his daughter if given the opportunity. This instant! This needs to happen NOW! NOW I tell you! Find out if it's the green wire or the red wire. Do you hear ticking? Do you feel anything? Dammit I can't do your job for you! No I'm water walking. Right, good exercise. My grandmother taught me how. Yes. Okay, I'll walk you through it, but whatever you do don't. fall. asleep."

Something like that.

Thank you twentysomethingish dude. For thwarting the invasion, or stopping the oil spill, or maneuvering us away from the explosion, or helping Kiefer Sutherland or helping that chick on that medical drama that everybody watches or saving Kate and Sawyer or whatever thing it was that made all the difference between then, and now. On your cell phone. In a pool. Next to me. In a pool. On your cell phone. On behalf of all of us, thank you.

Either A., I'm becoming this curmudgeony old man who no longer sees the irony in anything at all, who lacks complete amusement and lives in poor humor and who simply cannot keep up with the latest in anything and resents careless youth (ah, the days when one could talk carefree on his cell phone whilst in a public swimming pool), or B., the world is going to hell in a handkerchief. At least I'll be in the next lane to watch the show.