Laughing to death

I can see the beginning of my front-page obituary now:

Well-known man about town Matt Trott, beloved by millions, died yesterday in the loving arms of his beautiful wife Natalie Portman. Cause of death: laughter.

It would go to mention my multiple Pulitzer and Nobel prizes as well as my many lesser awards. My life is going to pick up one of these days.

But the specter of laughter will stalk me throughout my kick-ass life, as it did today at swimming class.

I was trying to float and swim on my own and I did a little. But twice I just started laughing, which killed my balance and would have sent me to Davy Jones' locker (the chlorinated version) if not for the stabilizing hand of the volunteer with me.

Once, I laughed as the teacher bellowed "Tummy up!" to me. She must have been yelling really loud because I heard her fine and my ears were underwater.

The other time I had just finished a length of the pool mostly floating and swimming on my own. The volunteer was trying to show me how little he was doing and he lifted one hand out of the water.

I saw it and cracked up. Part of it was that he looked like Doug Henning or something: "Look, I am not holding him up."

Mostly, though, it was just so freaking cool. I know I am not ever going to challenge Michael Phelps, but I was floating, me the sinker, the dude with no hips and no fat (these were from today). How far I have come in a month. Now if i can just control my laughing.