"Savann-ahhhhhhhh"

Back in '99, Lyn and I rented a condo up in Westchester that had access to a pool. It was fantastic. Nobody every used the pool but us, a couple of Cher-loving gentlemen and the busty young life-guard whom I dubbed "Savann-ahhhhhhhhh"—because she looked exactly like the famous blonde porn star of the early nineties. What made it all the more enjoyable (at least for me that is) is that "Savann-ahhhhhhhhhh" would occasionally take a dip herself.

Skimming the water like a tan, tail-less dolphin, the flaxen-haired mermaid would emerge—Phoebe Cates-like—from the water, make her way over to the tiny pool-house's exterior shower and wash the harsh chlorine from her delicate, glistening, sun-kissed skin ... all in slow motion.

Lyn scoffed at her obviousness. The Cher-loving gentlemen rolled their eyes with envy. And I watched. I watched with all my heart. I watched so intently that I became blind and was left with nothing to rely on but my sense of hearing. But do you know what I heard? Do you? I will tell you....

The wind.

And on the wind ... a name:

"Savan-nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."