I don’t understand why everyone looks so down on it. Do they not realize the fun they are missing out on? The pleasures of swinging are endless. Endless. The various ways that the body can move. The lack of any insecurities. The feeling of complete, uninhibited freedom. Endless pleasures.
Activities that cause a person to feel fully free have always been a threat to those forces which seek endless control over the individual. Not only does swinging set a person free from the repressive limitations created by our collective society, but it also gives a person an opportunity to know themselves at a deeper level. Once a person starts to swing, they stop following the rules. Maybe this is why so many are threatened by swinging- it threatens the various limitations that so many people have built their entire lives within.
I began swinging around the age of twenty-one. A girlfriend introduced me to it. I still remember the experience as clearly as I would remember something that took place this morning. We were on a walk through a quiet, suburban neighborhood. Tree lined streets. Meticulous front yards. Golf carts. We were both quiet, enjoying the serenity of an afternoon walk. Suddenly she yelled out, “Lets swing!” “What?” I look at her, shocked by her sudden surge of excitement. “What?” I asked again in a confused state. “Lets swing! Look at that swing over there.” I looked in the direction her finger was pointing in and noticed a two person, white swing hanging from an oak tree. “On that?” I asked. “Yes. It will be fun,” she said already walking towards the swing. “But it’s on someones private property. We will get ……” It was too late. She had already started swinging and I didn’t want to leave her swinging all by herself..
That day we were lucky that the homeowners were either not home or did not notice us (or maybe they did not care that we were swinging in their front yard). All I know is that it was such a pleasure to swing with my girl. We had a blast together swinging all over the place. Laughing out loud. Holding each other tightly. I felt like a child again, as I used my leg muscles in an attempt to touch the sky with my feet. Her hair blowing in my face. The force of gravity pushing against my genitals. I felt free, released from all my worries and petty concerns about the future. From that day forward I became a devoted swinger.
I don’t know how it is in other parts of the world but in America, swinging is not easy. In fact, it is very dangerous. Homeowners become quickly enraged when they see a stranger swinging on their property. Some of these homeowners will not hesitate to pull a gun on a harmless swinger. What is it about swinging that pisses homeowners off so much? They have hung a swing in their front yards. Are they expecting me not to swing on an idle and empty swing just sitting there? It’s like having a nice automobile idle on the street with the engine running and the front door wide open. Would you really expect no one to just get in and drive away?
Few things bring me a greater sense of thrill and excitement than searching for a new swing. You never want to swing on the same person’s swing twice (unless they are nice about it), so a few times a week I will go for long walks or ride my bike around suburban neighborhoods searching for a new place to swing. I get such a bodily thrill (and an erection) when I discover a swing that I have never seen before! What a feeling! It is usually hanging from a lone tree in a middle-class, well kept, front yard. Sometimes the swing will be close to the street or it will be further away. Whatever the case may be, the moment I see the swing I run over and start swinging. At that point I have little concern for my safety.
Most of the time I will have no problems swinging. I can swing and swing and swing and no one will say anything. There will be no guns or violent confrontations. No police officers and no handcuffs. No public humiliations. These are my greatest moments. There I am, a 44-year-old man swinging my worries away without any disruptions or bureaucratic interventions. My youth returned to me in full. What bliss! Are there greater pleasures? If only everyone knew how much joy they could receive from swinging. If only everyone understood that you are never too old to swing. What a different fish bowl we would all be swimming around in.
One last thing that I should mention to anyone who is considering becoming a swinger. Despite the potential to get killed or seriously wounded by an enraged homeowner, there is one other serious risk involved in swinging. A person who is a professional (whose economic earnings depend on their reputation) has to be very careful about how they are perceived by society (this is why most professionals lead double lives). I myself am a professional and realize that swinging posses a threat to my good name. Just the other day, on my way home from work, I found a really nice swing on a suburban tree-lined street not far from my home. Naturally, I started swinging and was surprised by what a well constructed swing it was. I was able to get a lot of air and within minutes was having a blast. My worries dissipated. I was laughing out loud with joy when I suddenly heard, “Mr Sokoloff? Is that you?” I instantly stopped swinging, turned my head around and noticed that one of my clients and her husband were standing just beyond their front door with their mouths agape. They looked horrified. Mortified. I didn’t know what to do so I just waved and walked away. I probably will not see that client again. I just hope she does not write about what she witnessed on Yelp.
If my clients found out that I was a swinger, who knows what would happen to my business This is one of the serious disadvantages of being an adult professional who loves to swing. Such is life. I refuse to give up swinging. Some things are that worth living for.