"G" is for Granule

Stew was a pool person. He did not like sand. If given the choice of pool or beach, Stew always chose pool.

In a tropical setting, at a lakeside retreat, along the rugged, rocky New England coast, Stew was to a pool as a sesame seed is to a bagel; stuck on until a force of nature shook him loose.

Lucky for Stew, he was a city dweller. The number of times he came in contact with sand on a daily basis were relegated to vacations and waterside gatherings, leaving his day-to-day life almost totally sand free. And he went to great lengths to stay sand free.

Stew avoided sandboxes like the plague they were to him. He would never be caught dead near a volleyball pit (besides, why were they always wearing bikinis when playing? Hello, you’re not at the beach.) and he always wore shoes and socks when strolling through the park for fear of any small granules making their way into his footbeds.

In Stew’s case, it wasn’t that he had anything against sand, he simply didn’t want to be bothered by it. A pool represented ultimate relaxation to Stew. Relaxation that came with an effortless, no clean up aspect that added to his ability to disengage and enjoy himself in a natural setting. The fact that pools were inherently not natural and, in most cases, filled with enough chemicals to kill a Pepperidge Farm Goldfish cracker (Stew’s preferred poolside snack) was immaterial to him. Stew loved a pool.

When poolside, Stew almost never went in the water. Herein lies the most ridiculous aspect of dear Stew.