Swimming noodles crushing my soul

“Noodles”. For little kids learning to swim.

They’re long, plastic, floaty things that come in an array of colours. Swimming noodles, that have now seemingly become mandatory for adults wanting to lay about in hot springs and pools and pristine swimming locations. For fuck’s sake.

I see no problem with using swimming noodles for safety and confidence… however, if you’re simply relaxing and enjoying the pool can’t we swim?

What’s happened to us, dear humans? Have we become so complacently lazy that the idea of treading water or laying on your back practising your floating technique has become obsolete?

I’ve been in exquisite natural swimming locations where I gaze at the palms and the sky but this has now been obliterated by the ugly fluoro colours of fucken noodles. And the image of the old doddery guy walking down the steps with the noodle already tucked up into his groin, his penis perfectly perched on the plastic flotation device that will save his arms and legs from moving in the water. The beauty of the location is defaced by fuckers on their fucken noodles. I can’t get away from them.

I understand kids needing them, keeping them safe, keeping their cute heads above the water is very important. I understand using them purposefully in treacherous waters. A quick internet search shows hundreds of hacks for enhancing everyday life with fucken noodles. Where are the hacks for swimming with style? Have I become the only one who has a penchant for purity? Am I the only one who believes that our arms and legs were made for using, to keep us fit, so we stay alive and well, able to take in the glorious vistas around us with a healthy heart and a perfect dose of cynisism.