the charles river swim thing is confusing

Most people I know would refuse to join me for a swim in the Charles River (1). This makes perfect sense. They, like me, grew up listening to The Standell's 'Dirty Water' after Red Sox victories. We love that dirty water...as long as it stays over there, in the river. For us, the river was considered a small step up on the cleanliness scale from the water sloshing about in a backed-up toilet.

However, I no longer believe this. What specific reason explains my new attitude? I'm not entirely sure it is down to one reason. Rather, as is usually the case in these types of pointless mentality shifts, a series of smaller observations from over the years has simply added up to reach a tipping point.

First, I never see warning signs anywhere along the river to STAY OUT. Why would there be, you ask, if everyone knows the river is the local water treatment facility's biggest nightmare? Well, I actually suspect most people don't know. In my wanderings along the river, it seems like most of the crowd are tourists from Europe, Asia, or Newton-Wellesley, back from a fresh round of selfies and a couple nine-dollar Sam Adams drafts at The Cheers Bar. The most common exceptions are those whiz-kid college students who look a day or two over fifteen. Trust me, these sub-groups of people need all the warnings signs we can give them - therefore, I think it is relevant that we don't give them any such signs.

Another observation came on a walk this past summer. A friend and I strolled the Cambridge side of the river, working our way up from Kendall Square to Mass Ave. Along the way, we watched three small sailboats capsize in moderate winds. Three capsizing sailboats! Did these Magellans-in-training suddenly contract leprosy? Was the six o'clock news filled with breathless reports of new safety measures being installed by the canoe rental companies on the shores of the Charles? Did Mayor Walsh deliver a rousing speech demonizing those corporate interests he probably gave tax breaks to for dumping the chemical waste into the river that was now endangering the lives of hapless local sailors? No, no, and probably not, no.

But the clincher came just a week later when I heard about the City Splash event. Or, excuse me, I should say the FIFTH ANNUAL City Splash event. Apparently, the river is safe enough to swim in, once a year, for about twenty minutes, if you pay ten bucks. This is ridiculous. When it comes to safety, it's either safe or it isn't, and if no one has died yet after the first four swims, I'm sure everyone is good to go for a dip whenever they f'ing please.

Footnotes / plus, the chlorine would ruin my hair

1. Not that I would, either.

I'm not really a huge fan of swimming anymore. I think I got tired of it after doing one to two hour pool workouts every day for six straight weeks while rehabbing my badly sprained ankle back in 2014.