Every Decade is Golden - Matt Fisher

Matt Fisher

1962 -1965

Written in 2004

Writing about my four years as a lifeguard has not come easy. Mainly, I think, because nothing extraordinary happened during my tenure. I was just one of the many faceless teenage rabble with just enough physical and social skills to get the job. In return, we were given just enough responsibility so as not to endanger ourselves or the public at large. It was better than work, but to be honest, the city paid accordingly. The leadership of this mob was made up mostly of PE teachers. It makes sense, when you think about it, since most of us were just out of high school and still understood that teacher/student dynamic of groveling and fear.

The routine was pretty simple. Most of the time you didn’t have to show up until 10am. Training days were really fun though they did start at the ungodly hour of 9. In four years, I never missed the “Red Hat” though my response time increased with each year. In my first season (1962), Tom Dugger gave me a two day suspension for not assisting a senior citizen get out of the water at Treasure Island Trailer Park. In my defense, I thought the crawl technique was the proper MO for seniors, plus this particular one owned the park and his complaint registered. (As I get older, the crawling part seems like a pretty good strategy.) I made a number of PR rescues, and a couple that were for real. In my official capacity, I saw one floater whose demise was directly related to a heart attack and not lifeguard ineptness.

I was ignorant enough to believe I was living in a perfect time. The golden age of Athens was nothing compared to the beach culture of California in the early sixties and Laguna was its epicenter. The ocean’s bounty endless, the water warmer and the surf cleaner than at any time in recorded history. And god knows, the women superb, you could ask anyone. I probably would have gone to my grave believing my own hyperbole had I not had the fortune to draw clean up duty after the annual bacchanal know as the “Life Guard Luau.”

The “jeffe” for this event was D.O. Jacobsen. Jake had a truck that could get to dump. As I recall, I did the heavy lifting and Jake drove. But what stuck with me were his stories of old Laguna. He told them while driving to and from the dump. Jake came of age in the late forties and early fifties. His stories including Hodge Podge Lodge, the wonder dog Bo Diddly, and the meanest sumbitch, Emil Hilario, to ever hit town were a revelation. The point is, every decade is golden if you are young and lucky enough to work at the beach. At least I hope so.

Footnote by Dale Ghere

Marilyn always referred to Matt as “THE CHARMER”, because he had a great smile and a smooth way with the women.