So there’s this sign at the sunny end of the pool at my gym. I shouldn’t mention it in mixed company, but, it bothers me. The sign reads:
PERSONS CURRENTLY HAVING ACTIVE DIARRHEA OR WHO HAVE HAD ACTIVE DIARRHEA WITHIN THE PREVIOUS 14 DAYS OR HAVE CONSIDERED ACQUIRING ACTIVE DIARRHEA BY EATING AT A FOOD TRUCK STALLED ON HIGHWAY 126 TOWARD FILLMORE SHALL NOT BE ALLOWED TO ENTER THE POOL WATER.
The part about acquiring diarrhea from a Fillmore food truck? I sort of made that up. But the rest of the text is real and it’s posted by pools everywhere.
There’s a certain biblical Thou Shalt NOT quality implied in the notice. If this pool hazard warning were one of the Ten Commandments, it would probably be my favorite, perhaps everybody’s favorite, because no one I associate with approves of diarrhea, except for maybe The Rev. Al Sharpton in that he’s full of — what’s the word for which I’m searching…
Hyperbole.
How do you enforce this? Where does this end?
I mean, I don’t see signs at SClarita City Hall warning:
IF YOU’RE A LEPER, DON’T TOUCH ANYONE, DAMN YOU.
Three or four times a week, I work out and swim a mile. Not once has a staff member approached, cleared their throat and asked: “Squeezeme. Don’t mean to pry. But do you, or your sister, have diarrhea? No? Would you like to buy some?”
There are health clubs in faraway primitive lands, like Tajikistan or Palmdale, where they use a more insistent screening method for weeding out the seriously incontinent. I can envision a long line of senior citizens or illegal aliens hailing from spice-rich countries all lined up in ill-fitting adult diapers. A huge, menacing health club guard walks up and down the line, occasionally throwing a surprise and vicious punch to the solar plexus. If the potential swimming offender doesn’t double over and leave a little present, then they get to use the pool.
Dear Mr. SCV:
Cripes. Why did you have to come back?
Have you no shame? No sensitivity? What we refer to as ‘Diareekee’ around our house is not one bit funny, thank you. It was invented by white males to keep Women and Minorities down. Please take the enclosed quarter and buy yourself some maturity.
Sincerely,
Diane Trautman
Last Surviving Alliklik Indian Princess and President of the Santa Clarita Valley Chapter of P.O.O.P.I.E.S. (Progressives Of Overtly Passive-Aggressive Intestinal Enlightenment Society)
P.S. The SCV Democratic Ladies’ Auxiliary Alliance will be hosting a 5K, or shorter, Diarrhea Awareness Sideways Run starting at the new Senior Center next Tuesday, after the all-you-can-eat lunch, which is prunes, chili, more prunes and oatmeal heavily laced with cinnamon, and, of course, more prunes. As we like to sing (instead of the “Star Spangled Banner”) before every meeting: “Prunes, prunes the magical fruit. The more you eat, the more you toot.” If you could place this in The Signal calendar, we’d appreciate.
P.P.S. While there are no known cases of Pretending You’re A Baby Hippo Making Bubbles In The Watering Hole, we’ve put together a crackerjack local team to study this planet-threatening problem of V.O.D.s. (Victims of Diarrhea). Like our sister city, San Francisco, now would be the time to implement a government program featuring roving bands of Poopie Patrols throughout Santa Clarita.
Thank you, Princess Trautman.
Although — shouldn’t it be Princess Trautwoman?
Actually, I am heartened to see the Democrats take an active albeit gloved hand in this new threat. Up in Sodom’s sister city, San Francisco, the problem of progressives relieving themselves willy-nilly has reached pandemic proportions, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It’s the logical conclusion for FDR’s New Deal, creating another unwieldly and useless branch of government, although instead of hall monitors with shovels and squeegees, perhaps we should just form a small army of SClarita government workers to follow suspected V.O.D.s. After they mark trail, the city human health engineer merely hands them a plastic bag and peels off a $50 bill and a pamphlet on indoor plumbing so they can clean up the mess themselves.
It surely would stimulate the economy more than that stupid AMGEN bike race.
In conclusion, I’m not sure what it says about a society that needs poolside signs reminding us to not dog paddle with loose bowels and an out-of-context smile. I’d have more confidence the problem was being properly addressed if the signs were posted at least five miles away from the pool.
What can I say. Like Roy Rogers’ horse, signs like this, they trigger me.
Earth’s most prolific humorist, Boston has penned more than 11,000 blogs, columns, essays, books, features and stories. He’s been named both best serious and best humorous columnist in America, is the recipient of The Will Rogers Lifetime Achievement Award and favors an 11th commandment against diarrhea.
