Same As It Ever Was

This year’s Orinda Pool Party was a rush job. The pool was well over 55 years old and gravity had worked its magic slowly tilting the pool towards the creek to the point that the water level was getting so low on the uphill side that it just was able to flow into the skimmer. We bit the bullet this past winter and decided to have the pool leveled. It was either that or just fill in the pool with dirt and forget about it. Like owning horses, having a swimming pool is just a silly excuse to shovel money into a pit, in this case a literal one. We were assured that it would be done by the end of April. Of course no contractor worth his salt is going to stay on schedule and it was barely done by mid-July. After months of workmen coming and going along with dust, dirt, and loud Mexican music all emanating from the pool area finally over, I was not chomping at the bit to put on another Orinda Pool Party. I’d like to say the pool looked fabulous post-reconstruction but almost the entirety of the remodel is underneath the pool and invisible to the naked eye. The redwood deck is still in need of a good powerwashing and restaining; the concrete decking is still cracked and heaved up. So of course we were going to put on a party: shabby chic never goes out of style!

With just a month Roger and I got a listing up a bit late and managed to sway 15 Spokers over for a fun day in the sun and pool along with a ride to keep it honest. For the first time ever we had more non-riders than riders: just five had the chutzpah to throw their legs over a bike and climb up Pinehurst. The indolent supermajority preferred to sashay over later in the day, park their ample butts on the patio chairs, and gab up a storm while politely waiting for the riders to show up at the manse so we could all chow down together.

The weather was perfect—mid 80s, no wind, plenty of sun. The pool was 90F—practically a hot tub. But when the riders arrived no one went into the pool and instead they all headed straight for the meal line. Roger was again lured into smoking a smokin’ delicious rack of pork ribs. We literally tossed together a vegan brown rice salad—yes, it came from an old ‘hippie’ cookbook—and a pesto pasta salad different from the same old dross we ply most years. And just like at this year’s annual picnic we threw in grilled corn on the cob of which we have become so enamored. Not to be outdone the crowd showed up with some delicious homemade food including several kinds of salads, tomato caprese (is there any other kind?), a rich fruit tart, and brownies and cookies. Lamberto and Joe brought some buffalo chicken wings even though there wasn’t a football game in sight. (After tasting one—I had never eaten one before—I gobbled them down with gusto!)

I thought post-meal torpor would slay the crowd but instead a few finally ventured into the pool to cool off and splash around. It was a really pleasant afternoon filled with feeding frenzy, plentiful persiflage, and of course even some cycling on the side.