Seven Hills

A couple of years ago, some friends of ours invited us to go swimming on a Friday evening at Seven Hills Swim and Tennis Club.  When we walked in, it was like I'd entered a time machine and been transported back to the Brentwood Dolphin Club in the mid-1970's.

We spent so many lazy summer days at the Dolphin Club, swimming with friends, jumping off the diving boards and playing "green river," "gator" and baseball (with a tennis ball).  In my pre-teen and early teenage years, the Dolphin Club was my social circle all summer long.  In those days, the summers were endless and seemed to last forever.  Now, not so much.

My mom played tennis - always doubles - for the Dolphin Club for several years.  She often played with Donna Bethel, a peach of lady who later became a very successful realtor in Brentwood.  Donna died several years ago, long before I did some work for her son, Tommy.  Those were good ladies and good times.

Sadly, the Dolphin Club was sold several years ago to a developer.  It fell into a state of disrepair until very recently, when a building project of some sort finally began in earnest.  It was sad, really, to imagine so many memories of so many people disappearing as the remaining structures there were razed.  

I applied for a membership to Seven Hills last year and was wait listed.  Last winter, I reapplied and much to my delight, we got in.  We have several friends - most of our Dodgers' family, in fact - that belong to Seven Hills, as well.  I knew we'd love it and so far, we have.

Last Saturday evening, with Jude still laid up after eye surgery, I took the boys to Seven Hills for a quick swim and dinner.  We arrived a little after 6 p.m. and the pool wasn't crowded.  We swam for a bit, then ordered dinner from the Grill.  It had cooled off by the time we ate.  It was nice just sitting and talking with the boys, probably a lot like it was for my mom on those summer evenings when we were at the Dolphin Club with her so long ago.

After we ate, I watched Joe jump off the high dive for the first time ever.  He's fearless, much more so than J.P. was at that age.  I laughed every time he jumped off with a huge smile on his face.  Next, we played keep-a-way in the pool with the Waboba ball, the three of us hanging out, roughhousing and laughing together.  

It was close to a perfect summer Saturday evening.