Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by N-Techno I'm doing laundry.
I still have an issue with doing clothes in cold water. For some reason it just seems, unwholesome.
They look alright but I always wonder.
Doing laundry I end up thinking about adrenaline. Because doing laundry is as opposite to adrenaline as you can get, I guess.
I was making a list. I still love lists.
Tops in adrenaline:

1. Sky diving - its as close as I'll ever get to flying. The drawbacks are its expensive. The training takes too long and is expensive. Its pretty easy to die doing it. Somehow none of that lessens the sheer rush of it.
2. Surfing - There's no drawbacks to surfing. Ever. I remember a lot of non-surfers watching a bunch of guys sitting out at the break line staring off, praying for lines. "Monks of the sea" they liked to call us. I still have no idea what they're talking about. Its true that guys like me can sit out there and stare for hours and even when you're out there with your buds its still mainly quiet with the white noise coursing through your brain. It would never dawn on me to compare the white noise that sits as a substitute for thinking as being particularly Zen-ish. What do I know.
3. Baseball - I still remember this. My nerves remember it, my muscles remember it. In college I had to go to my left and stab a line drive that was skittering about five inches off the grass. I somehow snagged it and kept my balance well enough to tag out the man on second who was advancing to third. Then I saw that the man who was on first had already reached second and was running all out to get back
   Click images for desktop size: "Kenny Stabler-Show Down" by NFL Films to first. A glimmered voice in my head said "triple play". I was deep in the hole but so stoked that I threw the ball about four feet over the first baseman's head. He jumped up and made the grab and managed to sweep the runner out. It was pure rush. I was disappointed the next day that there weren't headlines about it. I love baseball. Playing it, watching it, not so much.
4. Coaching - Seeing a kid who thought he was clumsy and inept manage to catch a ball, turn and tight rope up the sideline to score has a beauty that excites and exhilarates. Seeing a wide body O-Lineman suddenly find he can be big and graceful and open up holes for the RB and keep the D-End off his QB. Or seeing a young girl who thinks she's plain and useless fire off the line in the 100 and end up winning from start to finish. These are things of greatness and to be a tiny part of that is something I might not be worthy of, but its still me there and I love it.
5. Dogs - The first time a puppy comes to you because its frightened and needs reassurance. The first and every time they bring you a stick, or a toy and look to you to be the greatest and most fun thing in the entire universe; when they wake up afraid and confused and look for you to tell them its alright; when they look to communicate with you in terms that you should be able to understand. There's so little not to love about a dog. They're friends, not pets, not mere animals but important parts of a joyous cry for life.
6. My friend - Hanging out with her is cool and exciting. Unless she's crabby then its still an adrenaline rush just not the good kind!
7. Football - I used to have a weird schizo view of football. I loved playing it but I hated that my step-father had to, and in the NFL yet, and on a Championship team yet-ter still! When I was a
   Click images for desktop size: "Headless Horseman" by Kay kid I enjoyed running around. In high school I was an animal and I enjoyed the power in my body. I liked physically punishing my opponent. I didn't cheat or play dirty but I did things that were not required or needed. No one stopped me either. In fact teammates and adult coaches encouraged and praised me. It wasn't until college ball and after being punished often with stadium step running and lots and lots of talks with my coach that I began to appreciate the beauty of the game. My own body began to rejoice in the game giving me nearly the same rush as dropping down a glassy 6 foot face that closed out in a stand up tube. More important than that is I still consider football the ultimate and best tool for teaching kids. It requires brains, memory and assimilation of disparate data. My zone blocking playbook for just the O-Line is 135 pages long. The players learn that they must excel as an individual but supplant their individual goals to the goals of the greater good to succeed. And they have to implement all of this disparate info, all these complicated facts and rationalizations to a plan when they are near exhausted and hurting and maybe even afraid. When they have only themselves and their teammates to look to for support, when they'd much rather just lie down but instead they learn to rely on and to be relied on. What a beautiful game. I seldom get tired of watching it being played on any level, from Pee Wee ball to the NFL because inside of every game are several hundred stories, several hundred lessons that may have a commonality but are always individual and unique.

Seven is enough. I have to go put clothes in the dryer. You may notice that doing laundry doesn't make the list. Although I'm sort of enjoying the fact that I now have enough clothes to go over two weeks between laundry trips, I like it more because less laundry trips means lower electric bills and lower water bills. And I can tell myslef this is better for the enironment . . . Well, it is!

Posted by David at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Shut Up" by Riftsurround I watched three games yesterday, flashing back and forth between two others. It was great. Not as great as college ball but the quality of the athletes is inspiring.
So inspiring its easy to see how the NFL can warp the fundamentals of sportsmanship and delude coaches as to what the joy and beauty of the game truly is.
I always worked on a simple principal: Teach the players how to play the game and let the game teach them about life.
I don't know how that can get so complicated but it seems to.
I realize, in retrospect, that my greatest failure as a coach was in not teaching my players how to deal with failure.
Like a child I always believed we would win every game. If we didn't it was because I neglected to teach a certain skill that I hadn't for seen as being needed. Or I didn't inspire or motivate a player to do his best. Failure was always my responsibility. It still is.
With bland tunnel vision I forgot that there would invariably be a time when I would no longer be there. I relied to heavily on the game. The game can take a lot of weight, a lot of people leaning on it, but I still counted on it too heavily.
I don't have a clue how to teach young people to accept the limitations that have been placed on
Click images for desktop size: "Reclining Nude 1917" by Modigliani them. Not society's limitations. Those are nonsense and if they do exist its important to destroy them.
I mean the limitations that the human body and brain have to accept. We can never lift 1 ton over our heads or run a 1 minute mile sort of limitations. I mean that there will always come a time when you're not fast enough or strong enough or tough enough to prevail.
Prevail, to me, means to do more than survive.
It has to happen. I haven't any semiotic signpost to tell me how to teach this. How to prepare for the inevitable failure that will happen in life and to teach that this inevitable failure does not lessen you, does not make you less of a player or less of a human being.
Dezi Arnaz, in his dotage, told a good anecdote. It was a baseball story. He would ask who you thought was the greatest hitter ever. You'd have to say Ted Williams because he was the last guy to hit .400 for the season.
Arnaz would mull this around and finally agree with you that Ted Williams was the greatest hitter of all time. Then he'd ask you if you wanted to hit .400. Of course, you'd say yes or, if you were like me you'd say, "No! I want to hit .500!"
Arnaz would praise your earnestness and then ask how you were going to cope with being wrong half of the time.

Click images for desktop size: "Surf" I never had an answer for that. Even now.
There are the platitudes but what could are they when your looking down the wrong end of a gun that says failure?
I know that there are ways to not get to the right answer.
On Saturday this kid that plays for Ohio State, Ray Small, had a brilliant punt return that most likely set Ohio State on the way to a win. For a while there it looked like they'd forgotten how to get there so his contribution was invaluable.
Ray was heavily recruited out of high school. He was recruited by USC. After the game Ray sort of tainted the coolness of his accomplishment when he said, "As I took my visit to USC, I'm like 'How are they successful? They're not even serious about the game. Before the game they're all going crazy. Me and Rob Rowe was on the visit and I'm looking like, 'Wow.'" "Here at Ohio State, they teach you to be a better man. There it's just all about football."
I'm a bit saddened that Ray's grammar hasn't gotten better. I can put it off to the excitement at being interviewed. I'm sorry he thinks that being excited and having fun isn't what footballs all about. Any coach I've ever respected was pretty adamant about one thing: Have fun, be crazy until you step onto the field. The field is your office. On the field its time to get to work.
Its never, "just all about football," ever. If it is then that coach is a failure. I quote CLR James too much, so why not again: "He who knows nothing but cricket knows nothing of cricket."
Its never about win at all costs or closed practices. That's NFL crap. Its about studying your opponent and having him study you. Its about the clash and the respect that the clash brings.
Its about them knowing your "secret plays" but not knowing when or if you'll spring them. Its about leadership being born on the field and everyone walking off the field a winner no matter what the scoreboard says.
Its about loving your players not for bringing you victories but for being young people who can still aspire to greatness. Its about fun and being happy. Its about laughing and being as proud of a teammate as you are of yourself. And its about accepting your opponent as an equal to contend with who needs to be loved for having the same vision you do and for having the courage to step onto the field with you.
Its about the hours of sweat so you can be a suitable opponent.
Any less than that is a disservice to the young men who look to you.
I need to go on about this. Tomorrow I'm going to meet the HC at a local high school. They might need some help for the Junior Varsity.
I know all the drills. I know all the exercises
Click images for desktop size: "The Conductor" by Skan Srisuwan and how to improve a players physical skills. Its helping their hearts grow that's my major concern and what I need to work on the most.
I haven't told them about my puppy being a fine assistant coach. They're probably not ready for that . . . yet.
I'm pleasantly surprised at how excited I am about this. The drills and practice I saw from a moving car did not look very impressive. A lot of too small kids.
I once had a running back, Dan. He was 5' 4" and weighed about 140 pounds. He made up for that by being on the slow side. But he had a lion's heart. In one game he took out a 6' 5" middle linebacker. About 260 pounds. Dan ran right over him and hit him so hard he took the line backer out of the game.
Size is secondary, for sure. He was a great kid.
I look forward to meeting more great kids. It always happens. There are just so many great kids out there.
I just have to work hard to be sure that I can give them what they deserve.
Of course, I have to get the job first. That's always, "Who knows."
I don't know the coaches. I talked to the HC on the phone and he seemed okay. I need to know that our goals are similar.
I have to not scare them into thinking I want their jobs. I only want to volunteer.
And maybe we'll win some games together and maybe we'll have a whole lot fun. And maybe one kid will play better than he ever imagined he could. A fat kid will suddenly start losing weight and start parading around in a T-Shirt.
I love coaching. I forget how much.

Posted by David at 11:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Abandonded Mansion" by Raven 88 He Wrote "Born To Be Wild" for John Kay and Steppenwolf and created the phrase, "Heavy Metal". He had a really mediocre solo album and now he's forgotten.
I think of what it must be like to meet him at a party. Does he walk up to you and introduce himself as the man who created heavy metal? I would. It would be cool to watch people shuffle their feet while trying not to look at you.
Since he copyrighted the song does he get a tiny piece of money every time anyone uses his words?
If he doesn't, is he warped and bitter about it? Does he support the RAIA?
Has he found happiness now? Does he look out of his window and consider that a billion bikers and wannabe bikers are standing in their showers, their fantasies and their lives played out to his soundtrack?
Does his wife think he's a genius? Does she tell all her friends that he is?
Sometimes I feel like Mars Bonfire . . .

I didn't realize how wrecked I was yesterday until I read what I wrote.
All I wrote were intro's and then I left out the story . . .
I don't even know if the stories were any good. Maybe that's why I omitted them.
That doesn't mean anyone should be spared.
Like the whole fixation on bowels was in memory of a nurse. I'd just started my first chemo, the really nasty one where my hair fell out and I was considering that death was better than this.
There was this plump cheeked blonde blue eyed nurse, who shimmered in self contained pleasure.
We all hated her.
We hated her even more than we hated the missionary nurse who found time to testify to us individually at least twice during our stay. "Have you been washed in the blood," was the sardonic greeting the adults used in sardonic detestment of her.

Click images for desktop size: "A Silhouette Of War" by Scooch We hated the blonde all the more because on first sight you could see her with a pleasant carnal interest. She was young, pretty and had a face that knew no deeper tragedy than Bergdorf Goodman not increasing her credit limit at Christmas.
She wore a starched white nurses outfit. She was the only one who did. She wore it tight to accent her curves. And every morning she'd walk in and say in a clear bright chipper voice that was singed by the harshest most nasal twangy Sydney accent you ever heard and say, "How are we this morning? Did we have a good BM?"
And every evening before she went home and did whatever she did she'd stop in and say in that same voice that grated and jangled our exposed electric nerves, "Have a good night. I hope you have a good bowel movement!"
We hated her just short of plotting her death.
Someone once speculated that maybe she thought we were in there for chronic constipation.
Usually when you go into remission, or at least finish the course you look back at your caregivers with a trace of fondness or at least vague gratitude. Not her.
I've met some of my former comrades and we'd even been able to look at the Evangelical nurse with a trace of wry humor. The sexy blonde Aussie with the clear eye and smooth skin and the grating voice we'll all hate forever.
Is that justice or even close to fair?
Of course not, but none of us care.

And after that wonderful scatological reverie I was going to move on to my toe nail clipping and how that reminded me that I have the ugliest feet in the world.
I do. It has been attested to.
There are probably a lot of similes to be drawn between my feet and my soul. I do not attest to these.
I think most of my problem with my feet stems from the fact that I use them . . . I mean I've had countless turf toes, stepped on plenty of spiny urchins and a few jelly fish.
Once I played a pick up game of football in Regents Park wearing a pair of boots. But I blame most of the damage on rock climbing.
I always had extreme climbers for partners and extreme climbers demand extreme footwear. I was always the dumb one but smart enough to do as I was told.
The popular shoes back then were RD's and PA's (or maybe some inversion of those initials, its been a long time since I checked out climbing shoes).

Click images for desktop size: "Cartoon Girl" by Unknown Both shoes had their adherents. What they had in common was lightness. They felt like ballet slippers in your hand.
They had a very light special construction type rubber that extended up the heel slightly and far over the toes.
The rubber was to give sure grip on rock. The extensions up the toe were to give a solid fit when jamming your foot into cracks, or balancing on tiny little knobs (which is one of my more vivid rock climbing memories.)
But the problem is that the shoe sort of funneled your foot (meaning your toes mainly) into a nice tiny point. Not unlike the ancient cruel art of foot binding in Japan. Of course this isn't cruel. We did it to ourselves.
My problems were the two or three mile hikes to the climbs wearing these shoes . . .
My point is that my freakishly ugly feet are the direct response to honorable wounds, if you will, and should not be scoffed at nor jeered at.
I wear shoes almost all the time anyway . . .

I have a new Blue Tooth Mighty Mouse I got for Christmas from my friend.
I'm still marveling at it. I think it works okay so far.
My friend returns from her first weekend away at training tonight. It will be good.

The play offs start this weekend. Wildcard Weekend, according to the hype.
The bowl games were so mixed this year that these games might actually be entertaining.
These games count in the on-line contest I'm in so you have to endure my picks.
I'm in 2,123 position after my less than scintillating 11-5 last weekend. I am still only 13 points out of first with no idea how I fare on any tie breakers . . .
My picks are in bold.

Washington at Seattle - Its tempting to take the Redskins for a few reasons. Journeyman QB replacing erratic Jason Campbell for one thing. That the Seahawks have looked like mushes in their last few games is another. While I wouldn't be surprised to see the Redskins win here, their history is against them. The Seahawks are more desperate. So the Redskins could win a tight one or the Seahawks could get Hasslebeck fired up and blow them out.

Jacksonville at Pittsburgh - This is pathetic. That the Jaguars have to travel to Pittsburgh as the wildcard team when they have a better record and have already thrashed the Steelers. Nothing has changed since their last meeting, except the Jags are more confident and the Steelers have looked even shakier.


Click images for desktop size: "Chimps' Face" by Faan New York Giants at Tampa Bay - This is the cruddy game of the week! Even if it is the playoffs. Eli Manning showed he can play when the game is meaningless against the Patriots last week. The Buc's have been stumbling around in a weak conference. This is a coin toss really. Both these teams have no business and are only fodder for next week. Taking the Bucs for home field advantage and Jeff Garcia.

Tennessee at San Diego - I don't think this game will be a blow out. The Titans D is looking way too sharp since Haynesworth's return. But the Titan's offense is kind of sporadic at best. I like Kerry Collins. He's a nice guy, but he doesn't replace Vince Young. If the Titans win behind Collins he should get a life time pass to the Grand Ol' Oprey from his home town. He's got a big hill to climb here. Too big I think.

These picks are not jokes even if they are intended for amusement only.
Who knows what I forgot to say today that I'll remember tomorrow . . .

Posted by David at 5:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Light Of The Harem" by Leighton I woke up to a beautiful day. It was the kind of morning that should have been for Christmas.
I'll take it for New Years.
Its a cliche. Snow hanging from tree branches, everything looking frosted with intent instead of just being natural.
It was pretty and unique to me. It would have made a good postcard . . .
I'm most pleased with my puppy's willingness to adapt.
When she first saw deep snow she was trepedacious, timid and frightened. Now, she's the dog of the tundra. She rolls in the stuff, eats it burrows in it to find her toy.
I like her to be happy.

Something odd on the sight today. It looks like there's been close to 4,000 visitors since midnight. What makes it odd is that about 75% of them seem to be from yahoo and google for the picture of Captain America that I posted in 2006.
The last time that things went that crazy it was because Marvel announced they were killing off the character.
I have no idea what's spurred this sudden flurry of interest from all over the world.
Creepily, only 7 people figured out how to use the search box. They found the post with no issue at all. (This is judging from the log reports which are still new enough to me to be interesting.)
Here's the link to the picture of Captain America. I suspect they'll never find it here.
Maybe I should take this surge personally . . .
On a similar vein I discovered that 79,000 or so people hot linked to images here. Almost all of them as backgrounds for myspace profile pages.
That doesn't bother me much, other than the huge amount of band width they consumed . . . and none of them ever bothered to tell me they were doing this . . . minor stuff.

Click images for desktop size: "Just A Girl" by Bello What isn't minor were the guys who hot linked to images to promote things of which I do not approve and do not even want to give tacit approval. It horrified me. I was surprised at the number of porn sites but not greatly bothered, it was the political pages that angered me.
I'm hoping they discover that I've had to block the hot linking and take me off their sites so I can undo this hot linking stuff. It bothers me but not as much as people thinking I approve of racism etc.

Its been a good bowl season so far. Despite the best efforts of the BCS.
I'm stoked by the USC victory, of course. I think the score shows that Illinois was a bit out of their depth.
It would have been so much more exciting to see a higher ranked team against the Trojans. You can only play who they put in front of you.
When the BCS started I assumed, stupidly that it would be 1 vs 2, 3 vs 4 etc. This structure has produced some memoprable moments but its also produced a lot of duds and a lot of bad football.
One thing I hav noticed is that soem of the announcers have started to get more into the technical side of the game. Nothing too outre but it was cool to have an announcer explain a trap play and show how a guard executed it to perfection. That sort of thing is pleasant and does show that the game is more than just a QB throwing the ball around.
I even heard one guy start to explain a reveolving umbrella zone off of the two cover!
They cut him off but at least he knew what he was seeing. Too many of the announcers I wonder about.

I hope your New Year starts as nicely as mine.
Conquest!

Posted by David at 9:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Wild Horse" by Abogado My puppy graduated from Level Two Obedience class.
I was surprised. She never did First Level Obedience. She never showed much interest in Obedience at all. Jut the sort of obedience that keeps us both happy, not the fancy heel exactly this way style of obedience for sure!
I honestly didn't fully expect her to even pass. So when she was made "class valedictorian I was stunned to the point of having nothing to do but feel conceited.
I am always surprised at what my little dog will do to please me.
This follows on the heels of good news/bad news from my puppy;s family.
Her litter mate went to a big dog show cross country. That alone would have been infinitely cool, but the big shock was she won best of breed (Opposite sex . . . somehow that just seems wrong, why not best female?) and Best Bred By Exhibitor.
For some reason this flushes with me with pride. I don't know why but it does.
The bad news is that, like in people, cancer in dogs seems to be genetic. Hank, one of the coolest dogs I've ever known, died this year from cancer.
To me it was tragic.
Now it seems one of his offspring has the same disease.
I hate that.
Dogs are natural born battlers and can handle the disease better than most people. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt or that the battle is any easier.
The bright spot is that she appears to be taking the chemo well and responding. Maybe she'll go into remission.
The dog is taking an oral chemo, similar to the one I had to take. I know how it made my body feel.
I feel sorry for her and am glad she wouldn't know what to do with pity. She'd probably prefer it if I rubbed her tummy or tried to take this stick away from her.


Click images for desktop size: "Autumn Rice" by Vargas On football this week I was a mediocre 11-5. Oddly for a while I was in first place! But some one went 16-0!I can't imagine anyone getting all those bizarre last week games right, but they did.
I gave up on my theory that the fix was in . . .
The NFC Playoffs wild card week appears to be a big thudding dud . . .

On my health front . . . I've been passing out.
I hate that. Its just like falling into a black hole. I get no rest and feel even more fatigued when I come to.
I'm not sure what to do about it. I can't will myself conscious until sleep. I just sit and pass out.
Irksome.
I'm responding as expected to the drugs. My levels are all slowly balancing out.
I'll survive much more than this.
As usual my Blood pressure and cholesterol levels are all aces and I have at least gone through the added discomfort of the flu shot.
And the flu shot discomfort is a lot less painful than the flu!
There wasn't much more time left in the day.
I filled it by messing with the code on the site.
I decided that there aren't that many people who use the rss feeds. Its been a major amount of work coding everything to look good in the feeds - floating pictures etc. So i've gone to just using css classes to do some of the layout work.
I hope this doesn't distress anyone. It makes me feel a bit lazy.
I've also added in a Tag feature, where you can search for all other entries with the same tag at the bottom of the post.
It won't make much sense until there are tons of tagged posts, and I can't imagine why anyone would want to do such a thing, but it was fun trying to make it work.

Posted by David at 1:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Kabegami" by cos2l
I'm a shallow guy
I always have been. I think that people judge me mostly on my appearance. As I get older, gnarled and weather beaten, that's a bit hard for me to take.
People have always said to me, "You don't judge other people that way, why keep holding yourself to a different standard?"
Because I'm me, I guess.
It also impacts the way I keep this web site. I tend to be fastidious and work to get it the way I want it to look and work. Subtle color variations, scripting and stuff.
I've gotten pretty good at html and css trying to get it to look right. At least write to me. I've even had to learn perl, for no other reason than to keep this looking nice and to keep my puppy's website easy for kids to use.
I had to work hard to get the search page to work. Its still not what I want. What I want is to click on search and have a translucent window open up where you type in your stuff and then it takes you to the result page and simply vanishes.
I have to learn AJAX for that . . .
I spent a couple of hours, last night, getting the whole site xhtml compliant. That means it should look the same in all browsers. Even though Microsoft continues to disdain all standards and demands that anything they do should become the de facto standard, it should get it close even in Internet Explorer.
I guess I did some of that to avoid thinking about the damage I've done to my body lately. It's all the grief with the drugs and prescriptions.
his shouldn't be that big a deal, but it is.
The problem is with the simple minded diabetic meds. Nothing fancy there, no trials or even a chance at narcotics. Just laws and customs designed to benefit . . . well, not me or many other patients for sure. Planning to sort it out today.
All of which comes back to this site. As in why did I decide to keep a journal in the first place and why continue it for so long? Why keep it public?

Click images for desktop size: "Marbles" Most of this I've thought about, written about before. Reviewing the days keeps me focused on what I am and what I want to be. Keeping it public is, ostensibly, to let all those people I know and care about but have lost, have a place to find me. To share pretty pictures.
I'm a public person. Shallow and public . . . When we moved here the most exciting thing was prepping an act for my friends Christmas party . . . in my mind I was even thinking of tunes where I could do an alternate tuning on the guitar so I could get around the fret board and hide how worthless my hands and fingers had become.
Part of it is I like the attention. Okay?
Not to the point of using DIGG or wanting to smash the look of the site with a sidebar advertising and begging for attention, but to the point of doing a Thalberg, "If its any good they'll know who made it."
There's more to it than that but for now, that's enough.

This is a great time of the year: The Bowl Season is in full swing.
I was glad to see Purdue and Central Michigan play so well in a "minor" bowl.
I was embarrassed to see Arizona State let down the Pac 10 and play so poorly against Texas last night.
That's okay, they tried, which is more than can be said for all the NFL teams this weekend.
The final week of the regular season is historically a mess. There are flashes of interest but mainly Play Off Bound teams rest their regulars. Teams knocked out of it play lackluster ball or play over their heads to be a spoiler. Some teams choke.
Last week I was 9-7. Pretty mediocre. I should have been 10-6 but I ticked the wrong box at the website! Second time this season.
That leaves me 15 points out of first place . . . and yet I slog on.
My picks are in bold.

New England at New York Giants - The most interesting thing here is whether the Giants will concede the Patriots their perfect season or if they'll put up any resistance at all. The excuse is resting starters for the Play Offs. Coolest thing is that the NFL backed off of their pay per view scheme under threat of losing their anti-trust exemptions. Game of the week because this will be historic whatever happens.

Buffalo at Philadelphia - This is an oddity. The Eagles are playing better ball since their season is meaningless. Buffalo is choking, which is sad. I have to pick the Eagles but my heart is with the Bills.

Click images for desktop size: "Movies"
Carolina at Tampa Bay - The Buc's embarrassed themselves last week. They may rest people. The Panther's have Steve Smith . . . This could be a real snoozer with names you never heard of in key positions. The Panthers are finishing the string.

Cincinnati at Miami - The Bengals upset Cleveland last week with Defense?? The Dolphins are now under the tutelage of the most over rated coach in history - Bill Parcells. They'll lose one for the kipper.

Detroit at Green Bay - After last weeks debacle Brett Favre is worried. He should be. He's also a great one at redeeming himself. Look for the Lions, depressed but game, to pay the price. I'm pretty sure the Packers will come out blazing to set the tone for the Play Offs.

Jacksonville at Houston - Its pathetic that the Jaguars enter the play offs as a wild card team. They are potent and dangerous. Look for them to make a statement in this one. Also they'll experiment and force some issues to test their personnel. Houston, you did better than I thought.

New Orleans at Chicago - I like the Saints but this is not to be. The Bears have gotten mean, now that it doesn't mean anything. They're good as spoilers. They seem to like it more than being Champs! The game means more to them then it does to the disappointed, dispirited Saints.

Pittsburgh at Baltimore - Here's a mash up of a game. The Steelers are coasting and playing lousy football. They'll have no offense that can be imagined. The Ravens have looked great and then distasteful, often in the same series! I'm taking the Ravens because the Steelers have noting to win. The Ravens will take pride in beating a play off team.

Seattle at Atlanta - This is my cruddy game of the week. Worse it will be on TV tomorrow . . . The Seahawks are the second weakest team in the play offs. They're still trying to fine tune a rickety offense. Atlanta is just glad the season is over. The Falcons may get motivated but I wouldn't count on it.

San Francisco at Cleveland - Now that the Browns have lost their chance to be Division Champs this game should prove easy for them. The 49ers have more to play for but the Browns don't want to go into the play offs on a, not with their team history.

Tennessee at Indianapolis - The hardest game to call. This could be the most fun. Neither team can actually win much here so it could be just a good joyous game or one coach or the other could decide to start resting players. I'm going with the Colts but if there were more on the line for the Titans I'd take them.

Minnesota at Denver - This would be a snoozer except Adrian Peterson needs a confidence booster to head in to the Wild Card Round. Nobody is better prepared to give it to him then the Broncos. If the Vikings don't spring Peterson for big yards this will say a lot about what to expect next week.


Click images for desktop size: "My Love Is Like A Red Red Rose - R Browning" San Diego at Oakland - I pity the Raiders, and they're sending out a very green rookie to start his first game against a team that needs a confidence boost. Rah.

St Louis at Arizona - This would be the cruddy game of the week except both teams have spark enough to make something happen. I hope that the Cardinals defense gets a handle on Steve Jackson otherwise it will go the other way.

Dallas at Washington - The Cowboys will be resting EVERYBODY who matters. The starters will treat it like a scrimmage most likely. The Redskins are playing for their jobs next year in front of an angry home town crowd. Which is why I'm picking them for the upset.

Kansas City at New York Jets - This is a real stink pot of a game to end the regular season . . . I'm taking the Jets because the coin came up tails.

These picks are for your great amusement only. They are not to be taken as even knuckle headed advice!

Posted by David at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Christmas Lighthouse" by Phillips '57 I've never coached in the NFL.
Really don't want to coach pro athletes. I can't see the fun or the sense of accomplishment in that, really.
That doesn't mean that I can't be outraged by the actions of Bobby Petrino. Not as a sports fan but as a coach and a member of at least one of the associations he belongs to.
I don't want to go on about him. He's not worth it as a coach. I'm more stunned that he could get a job.
If you don't know, Bobby Petrino walked out on his contract with the Atlanta Falcons. He lasted 13 games. The day he walked out he took another job. Coaching the Arkansas Razorbacks.
If I were an alumnus I'd be raising hell with the athletic director. I don't believe Arkansas are so obsessed with winning that they'd throw pride out the door. That they'd trust the young men of their institution to a man who would apparently desert them at the slightest whim.
Thing is that Petrino immediately mad me think of another coach who was some what under the gun this year: Joe Paterno.
I never played for Paterno. I enjoyed watching him coach twice. Once when he hammered USC in some bowl and once when we hammered him at the Colosseum.
He's got class. In victory and defeat. He spoke kindly, forcefully, and without evocation both times. He was polite and smelled like you wished your dad smelt on Christmas morning.
As a coach he's survived the 3 yards and a cloud of dust to move into the aerial circus years and now into the indomitable defense years. He's done so without a blemish. No NCAA infractions, most of his students got their degrees. More than a few became Hall Of Famers in the NFL.
If you ever visit State College one of the things you notice is that there are a lot of buildings named Paterno. Not as a tribute to him but because he donated the money to build them - libraries, not Athletic Centers, class rooms, not gymnasiums.

Click images for desktop size: "Heavenly Angel" by Anonymous He said he wanted to give something back to the institution that had given him so much.
Sometime ago an NFL team, I forget which one, offered Paterno 3 million dollars a year to coach for them.
His response was something like, "If your not saving lives there's nothing a man can do that's worth a million bucks a year," and he turned it down flat.
If you get to the practice field you'll be surprised to see an awful lot of High School coaches. They're always welcome. Sometimes he puts them to work, sometimes he or his staff teach them.
He loves this game and delights in what he learns from it.
I think that he and Eddie Robinson are the two greatest men to ever teach this game.
I'm cynical enough to be intrigued. Someone bought a big court case to force Penn State to reveal Paterno's salary.
Now a days I'm always ready to have my drams crushed, and maybe the idol had clay feet after all.
After a lot of vourt room tantrums they finally gave up the number.
Joe Paterno makes $500,000 a year.
Its a handsome salary but doesn't much compare to the millions Lou Saban is pulling down at Alabama, or the millions Bobby Petrino is getting from Arkansas.
He's donated millions of dollars back to the people who pay him. He's raised his family and raised young men to go out into the world with the same firm but gentle hand and eye.
There's an argument for yin and yang.

I'm doing fine. Getting excited about Christmas. Why not. I don't need presents galore to enjoy the day.
I regret not being able to give presents, but that a minor quibble that might have more to do with my pride than with altruism.
I wish my puppy and I were going to see kids this year. We'll be fine.
My friend had her dream job interview today. It must have gone well as she had some very scant reasons why she wasn't a shoo-in.
She should be a shoo-in.
Put up more decorations that only my puppy and I noticed. Lit the tree so my puppy could lie there in the dark and admire it. Although she does seem concerned that its not surrounded with good smelling packages. She's being so good. She remembers Santa Claus Is Watchin' You by Ray Stevens so she wouldn't be bad.
Things are good enough here now to not mind the pains I've had. I went three days, almost, with no pain pills, before I caved in.

Posted by David at 10:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Party" by Anonymous Its been a movie and football soaked weekend.
What's been nicest is that it hasn't detracted a whit from time with my loved ones. Its been almost blissful.
Except that my puppy thinks I should spend all my time freezing to death, outside chasing her.
That's her tiny loss.
My tiny loss was in not hearing from as many people as I'd hoped. Until I realize that not many of those people are even aware of what Thanksgiving is or that it even exists.
The point being that there is nothing to say this hasn't been an absolutely splendid Thanksgiving.
I've even been perplexed. I'd forgotten or never really known about someone cooking for me at the holidays. Especially cooking well.
I could get used to it.
I did get a touch of a cold, just enough to distract me and get me to work on silly little things.
I've upgraded the Movie Library. I now have 2,500 movies!
I think that number pushes me into the realm of being a nut. If there were any doubt in the first place.
To jump start the inevitable, the movies are not for selling. They are for trading.
I'm always interested in trading for more stuff. More movie stuff I mean.
I've upgraded the posters on a few and re-"genred" some more. I'm trying to get it to break down into alphabetical pages by genre. A worthwhile project which is right up there with solidifying my Queen's Pawn Gambit opening skills.
The holidays are, oddly, a dead time for movie trading.

Movies we've watched this weekend:
"Deck The Halls" - dumb dreck but pleasant enough.
"Female Demon Ohkasu " - a decent but surprisingly gory chambara flick. Had some actual karate fighting and some great tattoos. It was B&W which made the head choppings and stuff easier to take. I'm looking forward to watching the 2 sequels.
"Like A Dragon" - a new Tashiki Miike flic that was confusing as heck. Not helped by bad subtitles that swapped genders around indiscriminately. Even with that stuck with it to the end and rather enjoyed it.

Click images for desktop size: "Pinkerton, Lincoln, McClernand" by Unknown "Unfaithfully Yours" - the very cool Preston Sturges film about suspected infidelity. Great holiday fodder.
"Piglets Big Movie" - We were all kids once and its not a good idea to ever forget that.
"The Nine Lives Of Fritz The Cat" - Because we're not kids anymore. This film interests me. Ralph Bakshi did the original. It was his entry into features. Robert Crumb hated the original and killed Fritz, his strongest character off to prevent this sequel. Steve Krantz, a Chicago business man, wanted to be a big deal producer. Krantz started off producing some episodes of the first Spider Man cartoon. He hired this Robert Taylor guy to make a sequel. It did well enough for Krantz to get financing for a movie called "Cooley High" which was very good and a monster hit.
It even spawned a tepid TV version called "What's Happening". But what makes it interesting is that Krantz loved being in Hollywood. He did all the mover things including dumping his long standing wife for some starlet wannabee. His wife, Judith, took to writing as a way to assuage his grief from the impending divorce. She wrote "Scruples" which was a mammoth best seller. Judith Krantz became the new "Jacqueline Suzanne" and churned out a series of boring sex filled pot boilers that were also huge best sellers. Maybe it was coincidental that the wife's income shortly exceeded his but he stopped the divorce. He still produces movies, mostly bad TV productions of his wife's stuff. Movies are fascinating, aren't they?
"Wheels On Meals" - Just to show people how the now rubbery and flaccid Jackie Chan deserved to be a star.
"Fearless - The Director's Cut" - Which really is Ronnie Yu's vision which makes the film must see viewing for more than its being Jet Li's final martial arts escapade. (He's clearly followed the career of Jackie Chan and can see where things go wrong as one ages.)
"Who's Your Caddy" - which is really really dumb. But such was the mood that even that was a pleasant enough diversion so long as you don't pay a whole lot of attention to it and clean the house while its playing. As for football I watched every single game I could. The Tennessee - Kentucky game was disappointing. If ever a team deserved to win it was Kentucky.
The Kansas - Missouri game was awesome. Well played and hard hitting.
LSU deserved to lose and the only part that bothers me will be if West Virginia gets into the BCS Championship Game.
West Virginia reminds me of the old BYU national championship. After a full season of playing nothing but mooks BYU went into their personal Holiday Bowl and played a 6-5 Michigan team. They beat them (and it is not a joke to say that given enough time you can coach a team to play any one game - hey, I coached my kids to play American Championship teams and to get wins we had no real claim to.)

Click images for desktop size: "Christmas" by Kabe Gami The victory got BYU a national Championship. It bothered me a little at the time, the same way it will bother me if West Virginia gets to play for the Championship. But in the end you can only beat who's in front of you and everyone gets the same amount of time to prepare.
And for all of those kids its meaningful and they all expend the same amount of energy to get there.
So for the kids it is important.
Its the pollsters and the BCS computers who make this a joke while they give the kids a prize to aspire to. Now its time for the NFL!
And thinking about USC-UCLA this next Saturday. And wait for the BCS polls to see how far up the ladder we've moved.

Technorati Tags: football, spectatorsports,movies, hollywood,

Posted by David at 11:30 AM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Lady Of Red"
Football yesterday was uneven. The Thanksgiving day was pretty great.
Lots and lots of things to be thankful for.
Lots of things I hope become the everyday things I can simply expect from life: laughter, congeniality and dark open roads.
And dogs. Always life with friends and dogs.
No matter how bleak life gets you can usually rely on friends and you can always rely on your dog. That's something to be thankful for everyday.

As to the football:
The Green Bay game was very entertaining thanks to Brett Favre and Donald Driver. I was shocked at how good the Green Bay defense and special teams have become. But not as shocked as I was to see the Lions playing like they were running from the ghosts of their own past. They're a decent team who are evolving. I hope the coach and Kitna can keep them together to realize that 3 game losing streak was an occurrence and not a divine premonition.
The Dallas-Jets game was, sadly what was to be expected. A dominant performance from the Cowboys. I watched Tank Johnson play for the Cowboys with some pretty mixed feelings. Johnson is a solid player. He deserves a chance after all of his trouble with the police and with prison but i don't get any impression that all his troubles are behind him, nor that they made any true impact on him.
Worse, I don't think the Cowboys care. They just wanted a solid line man and to win.
I was surprised that I got the Colts-Falcons game free! Rah!
I don't know how this NFL Network thing can be allowed to exist. Hopefully I'll get it again for free for next Thursday so I can see Green Bay!
Anyway, I didn't get to watch much of the Colts win. My only real interest is that I'm 3-0 in my football picks contest this week!
I didn't get to watch it as I was glued to my computer "watching" USC at Arizona State.
Watching means going to ESPN and CSTV and staring at green fields with little icons bopping along while I try and visualize what's happening.

Click images for desktop size: "Light At the Left Turn" by Vitally Yurchenko It must work in some way.
I didn't move for most of the three hours.
It was a good game. A great game for John David Booty, and a good game for our defense, a lousy game for special teams. I mean -4 yards rushing allowed through 12 minutes of the 4th quarter!
It was a grand statement by Pete Carroll over the man USC considered before hiring Carroll.
I am glad that they didn't hire Ericson.
I was appalled by one thing that appeared to be.
I couldn't see the players, only the icons but the play calling made it look like Ericson quit on his team.
It started when the Sun Devils scored a touchdown off of a blocked punt with over 8 minutes left, bringing the score to 44-24. This year the Devils have a rep built on incredible 4th quarter comebacks. I was nervous, in fear of another "Miracle In The Desert."
I was expecting the on side kick and then another mad touch down etc etc.
They kicked away.
Fair enough. I guess the plan was to rely on the defense for a 3 and out and then they'd fill the air with footballs.
The Devils' defense did okay but let the Trojans eat up 3 minutes!
Then instead of pitching the ball deep they RAN!
The Devil's ate up their own clock and their own chances. Then they PUNTED on fourth down . . .
USC went straight to the run game and marched downfield.
Then on 4th and 6 with an easy field goal in reach Pete Carroll did a nice sportsmanlike thing. No one would have blamed him for kicking the 3 pointer but he just ran a running play.
We turned the ball over on downs and left Arizona State with 1:18 on the clock.
Instead of trying to get that last TD against our second stringers the Devils ran the ball and ran out the clock.
I have no idea why and it depressed me, like they were saying we weren't ever really trying.

Technorati Tags: football, spectatorsports

Posted by David at 11:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Dark Day II" by Benny Every pitcher I've ever known has had the same mind set as a Weakside Line Backer on a run blitz.
Justin Verlander just threw a no hitter for the Tigers a couple of weeks ago. It still resonates. That's one of the things I love about baseball. The game stays the same forever. A no hitter today conjures memories of every no hitter before it. It augments the legend and illuminates the beauty of one man and his team rising to a level of perfection. And it makes perfection real and attainable.
Verlander got his no hitter the way I like them, with 100 mile an hour fastballs.
The last no hitter I saw was in person was Nolan Ryan's, way back when he was a California Angel. Ryan threw the hundred mile an hour fastball. HE had the rep of being a "nice" guy. He also had a rep for having control problems. Control problems - One of Ryan's records is striking out the side on 9 pitches. No fouled balls, just 9 pitches in a row three batters couldn't even touch. That isn't a control problem.
I always figured that Ryan kept the control problem ruse going to give him an edge. You know a 100 mph fastball can kill you, break bones if it hits you. If you were facing a guy who had control problems you're going to have to work awfully hard to on concentrating after the first pitch slips away from him and comes at you head high and behind you.
I think the ruse was more effective than Don Drysdale's. Drysdale's wasn't a ruse though. Drysdale remembered anyone who got a game winning hit off of him and then would proceed to intimidate, head hunt and humiliate you for the rest of your career. Batters really had to decide how much they wanted to win when Drysdale was on the mound.
How much simpler and saner to have "control problems". How much more intimidating when you never know when death's retaliation will come hurtling down at you.
He was a beautiful pitcher and one of the best I've ever seen.
The first no hitter I'd ever seen was Sandy Koufax's perfect game. I was 7 or 8. My grandfather took me that day. Back then I played baseball at the parks or empty lots, always running through my batter's litany (which I ran through even at my last game). Keep the label up. Don't close you eyes when you swing. Drop the bat, don't throw it before you run down to first.
Even with that limited knowledge Koufax was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. When I caught my first 6 foot peeler a few years later Koufax was the reference point I used to describe that waves beauty, power and elegance.
When I look at art I see few that can compare and only a handful of paintings or sculptures that can stand up to the glory of Koufax in the 9th inning of that game.
I was a decent hitter. Like most batters I divide the strike zone into a base 9 sectioned rectangle (High, low, middle - inside, outside, middle) and then I quarter each section. I know where I can hit the ball in that diagram. I know where I can't hit it. The diagram shifts depending on the umpires view of the strike zone and then shifts again depending on the speed and delivery of the pitcher.

Click images for desktop size: "I'm All Ears" by Unknown I think Koufax saw the strike zone as a series of floating dots, the size of dimes. He remembered what you did to the ball the last times you were at the plate and marked it down in his head, then he threw the ball to the dot where he knew you couldn't do anything with it.
When I was in my 20's a friend got a coaching job in San Luis Opisbo. He got a house in Half Moon Bay. His next door neighbor was Sandy Koufax. I went up there and we spent a Saturday watching Koufax practice his golf swing, mess around in his yard. It was a remarkable day.
Later my friend got friendly with Koufax and said I should come up for a BBQ or something like that and meet him. I didn't. I never wanted to talk to him. What if he didn't like me? Or, far worse, what if I didn't like him? He was a work of art, a monument. I couldn't have lived if he'd just been a man.
On Wednesday I have to go to the hospital for some tests. There was a delay to schedule me for "the machines". I'm not fond of machines where they strap me down naked underneath it while they put on lead aprons, welding masks then stand behind 6 inches of lead impregnated glass and another wall of solid lead. ZI'm not so stupid that I don't know its safer to back there with them!
The tests are for some weird numbness in my right arm. No stroke or heart attack. The easy answers gone they go to the machines. I only have to pay the same 20 bucks as for a regular doctor visit so its cool.
Worse is that one of the dogs I cared for Memorial Day weekend has "offended" his owner. He wants to dump her and sees no correlation between his treatment of her and the way she is. I threatened him. I can still draw the fire so maybe he'll listen. I doubt it but he does know I'll carry through if the puppy suddenly "runs away".
And the next door neighbors and I had a set to. Two dogs gone, one dead from being mistreated, another found running down a busy street (8 week old tiny puppy). There's a 3rd dog living there . . . as abused as the others.
I made my point with them but cowards who take their hate and neglect out on an innocent tiny puppy aren't capable of listening.
My ride just showed up for volleyball.

Technorati Tags: baseball, puppy

Posted by David at 3:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Cube Symbols" by Unknown Where I live the ground is rich red clay.
Red clay has 3 states: Clay, sticky mud and dust.
It makes red dust. The red dust is so heavy that it collects in the shower pan in the morning. It lives in your hair and in your skin.
Its stronger and heavier than the black dust from cars. Its stronger and heavier than the gray dust from skin and flesh.
It is always here.
One of my friends used to speculate how much dog hair we must eat in a day (she had more dogs than even me).
I wonder how much red clay dust i eat and drink each day. I wonder if its good or bad for me and if anyone has ever worried enough about it to figure it out.
But mainly I wonder when something will come along to interest me more than the red dust.

I'm exhausted.
I have a new measure of fatigue. My hand cramps get significantly worse the more tired I am. Response to toxins, maybe?
Today at pee wee football practice was the oddest. They all cramped in groups of two, each pair right after the over.
I have to use an outside lever to unbend my hands when it happens. It was hard to do that when there are so many kids about. Hard to do so they won't notice, I mean.
Its been a busy week.
I was worried because this is a small town and I'm not great at entertaining house guests in any circumstances. I just want them to be at ease and happy.
The most exciting part was meeting my puppy's "little brother". She's larger than him.
They seemed to get along fine, although I was hoping for some deep outpouring of familial secrets. It didn't happen but they acknowledged each other and got along fine.
My foster dog fell in love with him, badgered him constantly. I worried about it bothering him but I noticed several times that if she left him alone he'd go and provoke her.
Work was rough this week. Nothing new there.
The weather here has been wretchedly hot and miserably humid. I expect it to get worse. There's no cooling at night or even during the rain storms.
Even so 50 kids showed up for Pee Wee Football. The 8 who were there last week took sadistic pleasure in showing off their extra skills.
The hardest part for me was getting the other coaches to back off and let the kids have extra water breaks. I'm starting to wonder if my fellow coaches have any experience in this sport. 96 degrees is not the right temperature for pushing children. They won't get tougher, they'll just get cramps and learn to collapse.

Click images for desktop size: "Black Tree" by Mercatecnia Volley Ball practice was even more packed. Nearly 200 kids, enthusiastic kids.
I was dying and worried about my sun block holding up. The kids are getting used to me. A few of them tried to make out like we're buddies. I understand that and it doesn't worry me. My fellow coaches there are very experienced and we all know that its just the youngsters way of trying to find their place in this world.
They do ask some incredibly personal questions though.
Tomorrow I have to get my house back in order and try and rest.
My legs feel like they're leaden, just constantly sore and tired. Same with my hands and shoulders. I made the 1.4 miles to the bus stop in 17 minutes today. It took me 20 yesterday.
I think a solid day of vegging out and watching movies would be the cure though.
I stole my neighbors dog again. They killed one puppy with neglect and stupidity so of course they got another. I picked it up while it was wandering down the street in front of traffic. I may have found a home for it. The people seemed okay and are willing to get him his shots and keep him a week.
Tonight I heard a puppy crying on their back porch. Another one. A different one.

Technorati Tags: dogs, football, volleyball

Posted by David at 9:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Electrofunk Lover" by Alex BankHad a white night last night.
Not certain why. The pain level was just enough to keep from falling completely asleep, I guess.
I thought of odd things. Deep memories, physical memories.
If they were of bad stuff I guess they'd be called traumas. They weren't bad. They were some of the things I don't keep in the fore front of my mind but they are high lights. I was rock climbing once and thought I was about to die. My life flashed in front of my eyes. These memories were in that flash. I recall them even last night as vivid and beautiful.
I have an IQ that tests pretty high, which just proves what a poor joke testing is. My memories are physical things, not words or dates but muscles and nerve memories.
It started with a time when I was about 12. I remember it because I had an old Zuma Jay's surfboard. A real clunker I could afford second hand from my paper route.
It was a big winter day. Malibu was packed solid even though the wave wasn't working from the third point to the pier. I pedaled down to Arroyo Secos where a nice hollow face was working.
The old clunker hung a rail and I got tumbled hard along a sandy bottom. The memory is beautiful to me. I was being held down under water, helpless, just dragged along the sea beds. I had no power and no control. Just about the time that I was starting to worry about my breathing the ocean spit me out, threw me up high enough to escape the foam and gulp in fresh air.
I thought this was proof that the ocean loved me.
That thought drifted over into thoughts about baseball. I miss playing a lot. A few days ago I picked up and ball and I was lobbing it at a chain link fence. There was no pain and I was hitting where I was throwing. I tried to make a real throw and the pain was intolerable, like electric irons had been clamped on my elbow while an electric storm ran from my shoulder to my fingertips.
I remembered one of my favorite plays. I was a junior in High School. I don't remember who we were playing but we were up 3-2 in the bottom of the ninth. They had the bases loaded with one away. The runners were off with the pitch. The batter did a bad sacrifice bunt that became a chopper up the middle. Our second baseman, Sammy scooped it up clean and tossed it to me at second. I caught it barehanded and was pivoting to throw to first when the runner barreled in on me. I let the ball go at the same time as the runners spikes caught me square on the right hip. It spun me around and knocked me down but I still looked up and saw Tommy, our 6'4 first baseman make a stretch and an easy catch for the double play.
What was cool was that I felt his spikes dig into me but I felt no pain. I concentrated on the throw the same as always.
When I got up his footprint was on my pants, and indentations where his spikes caught me but my pants weren't torn and neither was the skin.
I decided baseball loved me.
These things need to be in threes. A memory trilogy.

Click images for desktop size: "Snowboard" by Hero My senior year of high school. We were in the conference semi-finals. Our opponent had an All State Parade All American had middle line backer. For the first quarter he made my life miserable. He hit me hard and often and he hurt when he hit.
In the second quarter something happened. It was a belly play. I burst up the middle and I felt something run into me. I felt like a concrete block. I noticed something had hit me but it didn't stop me or even bother me. Some of you know I had to wear rubber goggles back then so my peripheral vision was just enough to identify colors and shapes. I had no idea what had run into me. I just kept going.
Back in the huddle I was getting congratulations. The MLB had hit me and then gone flying. I didn't understand it then, less now, so I paid no attention to it. What I remember is that feeling of invulnerability, that noticing that something had bounced off of me and the fact that that something had no more impact than just being something more than that. I can always feel it in my bones.
It went that way the rest of the game. He had no more tackles.
I watched the game film and saw it happen, still not understanding, just knew that the sport loved me.
Next week is going to be interesting.
I have a hectic work schedule and house guests. One of the guests being my puppies brother. Two big black dogs will be interesting and fun. Add in a manic foster dog and it would be great if I could just spectate.
Football was odd. Its been threatening rain all day. Only 8 kids showed up. Most of the kids have to be driven there by parents.
I'm not disappointed. Eight kids means I get to know them better and when you learn one segment of the team well, you can understand the whole team that much better.
At volleyball practice, where the kids are poor and generally have to make their own way there had about 140 show up, or nearly 3 times more kids than the previous week.
I'm not sure exactly what those number imply.
I will, by necessity, be even quieter next week.
The update to the latest Word Press on the 19th of May seems to have broken my RSS feed.
I'm still trying to figure out why. Until then this link should work http://warchild13.com/wp-atom.php in NewsGator or whatever RSS reader you're using, at least until I can figure out how to fix the whole thing.

Technorati Tags: baseball, coaching, dogs, football, surfing

Posted by David at 7:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Upland" by Studio BenBen I survived one of the physically roughest days in my older life.
And it was a sort of fun.

Proctoring the test was enjoyable. I was surprised that the classrooms were so small. I thought that was a good thing. When I was in school it was usually at least 40 to a class. Here it was about 20.
Another surprise was that these tests are the ones the state uses in allocating funds, firing people, giving raises. So why didn't they fund the program to the point of at least not having to beg for volunteers? Even jury duty style money or bus fare would have enticed a lot more people to show up.
I liked the kids. The huge clothes they wear nowadays made sense in the classroom. As soon as they handed in their answer sheets they'd pull the shirts over their heads and pull their arms out of the sleeves and take a nap in a wearable cocoon. I thought it was clever.
Especially considering the kids who finished first still had to sit in the classroom for 3 hours, waiting for everyone else to finish.
They all handled that pretty well.
They tried some things on me but they wouldn't be kids if they didn't. Nothing outrageous, in fact it was all very well modulated and the kids were very well behaved.
I'm the kind of guy who finds it amusing to watch kids try and get away with stuff I tried when I was a kid: the old dropped pencil ploy, the sneezing a note across a room. They seldom worked for me either.
One kid finished the test in 10 minutes. I was curious as to whether he was that smart or that apathetic. There was no one I could safely ask.

The doctor was a pain. There has been a study on the diabetics medicine they've been feeding me for the last 7 years. This study holds that the medicine increases the likelihood of heart attacks by 45%. I got diabetes as a side effect to one of the chemo's. This chemo they knew increased the likelihood of heart attacks by 50%. Add in all the other factors and I think I just shot into the favored position, as in it will be amazing if I don't have a heart attack! Glaxo, the drug company is defending themselves by saying their tests only indicate a 30% increase in heart attacks . . . and they claim they made it public knowledge last year . . . they've been selling it for 15 years . . .
Going in my favor is the fact that I'm reasonably calm, don't have high blood pressure and work out a reasonable amount.
Its nothing to stress over. Its just something that can't be ignored.

Then there were the volleyball camps. I like volleyball as a sport. I'm not too keen on beach volleyball. It lacks the intricate passing and the opponent confusing fakes and feigns. I do like that beach volley ball protects the athletes body when going for the dig. (The dig is where the athlete lays out in an attempt to stop the opponent from scoring. The theory is that you give up your body so that you can get enough of your hand on the ball to get the ball up for a teammate to scoop the ball up and try and set up your own score.)
This was a pretty rough group of kids, but they were all polite, interested and motivated.
I don't know much about coaching volleyball, But I'm good with SAQ (Speed, Agility, Quickness). There are no sports that don't benefit from Speed, agility or quickness.
The coach thought I worked the kids too hard, at first. Then he saw that they were even more enthusiastic! They asked me, the way rough kids do, if I'd be back next week. I said yeah.

The hospital with Dr Puppy always goes well. She does her job so well. She played tea time with the girls. They got mad and lectured her about being impolite and eating her cookie before everyone else had been served!

Work is the same: more annoyed each time I meet a coworker. Dismayed and appalled that I should be grouped in with people with no hygiene and no manners who tell pornographic unfunny jokes to strangers. Yeah.

My friend has asked me why the universe is unraveling. Like I can point to a specific thread and say it starts there.
It's not like that. Its like the fabric of my little micro-verse has been doused with caustic acid and the whole sheaf has become something unrecognizable. She has a right to ask.
I'll try and make time to answer. I see ways to answer but not complete explanations yet.

I also realized how ingrained Southern California is in me. I heard me described as the tall guy with the Southern California accent . . . maybe that's why I like Chandler so much. The Irish have Joyce, the South has Faulkner and the lonely surfers have Chandler.

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Posted by David at 7:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Eyes Wide Open" by Vince Baak When I start to feel things are falling apart, like the center of my universe is unravelling, I think about Raymond Chandler.

Its one of my rules.
We all have them. I just the sort of guy who needs to codify them, list them and remember to the point of no longer having to write them down.

1) Avoid all situations they write operas about.

2) You can always rely on the wisdom of Satchel Paige and Ernie Banks. ("Don't look back, they might be gaining on you" - S. Paige and "Its a beautiful day. Lets play two" - E. Banks)

3) When devising a plan if you can imagine Wile E Coyote agreeing with you then it is best to re-think.

4) No matter what anyone says it is better to love than to be loved.

5) Remember your life is not a movie. Your life is not a pop song.

6) If something's broken, fix it or shut up.

7) Don't judge. Simply watch.

8) Children and dogs always deserve a hand.

And on and on. These aren't rules for everybody. I'll never so arrogant as to lay down a personal code for anyone to emulate.
They're just my simple guidelines that I can always fall back on no matter how stressed.
So I think about Raymond Chandler.
I've long held that Chandler is one of the greatest American writers. His developed style and extended a staid genre into a testament.
Like my other two favorite writers, Wild Bill Faulkner and Wilder Bill Kennedy, he wrote about a specific geographic place. Like in film they turned landscape into psychology.
Faulkner and Kennedy derive much of their frission from sexuality. Faulkner's sexuality was tied up with despair and loneliness as epitomized in "Sanctuary" and Popeye's rape of Temple Drake with a corn cob.
For Kennedy sexuality is a staving off of death, a celebratory thing. the ultimate scene of this is when the Ferryman's necrophiliac urges actually bring the corpse back to life in "Quinn's Book".
In Chandler's Marlowe their is almost no sexuality. There are some carnal thoughts. Chandler was an anglophile but not Victorian. The overt act in Chandler's work are always of love. The little guy drinking the poison to protect Gladys in "The Big Sleep", Marlowe's sacrificing of himself for the love of his friend, Terry Lennox, in "The Long Goodbye". And the driving the abused woman back to Kansas, seeing her home safe when he knows there can never be a romance between them.
Love and loneliness are the semiotic signposts of Chandler. They are a unison.
I've studied enough of his life to understand why he perceived the world this way but when the world is falling apart it helps me to review it and to understand how and why.
Love is an ideal to be cherished quietly.

Tomorrow my puppy and my foster dog are doing a big dog walk for Charity. After the dog walk I have to coach some pee wee footballers and give them their summer diets and personal work out schedules . . . try figuring out what 9 year olds can do as a personal workout! try getting some parents to feed their kids healthy food!
On Weds I have to pedal the old bike to a middle school where I'll proctor the kids final exams. Then the doctors and then the first summer volley ball camp.
It will wear me out physically but lift my spirit immeasurably.

Posted by David at 7:31 PM | Permalink

Click images for desktop size: "Merrie Flower" by Unknown At the doctors today.
I had to sit next to a woman. indeterminate age, but older. She was about 5'4", 190 to 200 pounds, straw like auburn hair that was losing the battle to gray. She wore two dirty gray sweat suits against the cold and talked as much to her writhing fingers as she did to me. She wore a touch of rouge and some badly applied too red lipstick.
I found her attempts at make up touching for some reason.
She asked me, "Where you going to be living when you die?"
She didn't wait for an answer. "I don't want to be found by strangers. I don't want strangers going through my stuff. They'd like as steal all the treasures. They would!"
This was a pretty unsettling line of conversation. I'd never given any thought to it.
"I've seen them graves, them paupers graves. Just throw you in a cardboard box and stack you 12 by 12 they do. Don't want that for me. Spending eternity with strangers rotting right next to you. I got me a plan. I'm getting one of them TV life insurances. Pay five thousand dollars they says. No questions asked. No physical!"
I couldn't comment on her plan. It was better than mine, which is . . .
Then she started to cry. If you could ever call crying masculine that's what she was doing.
I patted her shoulder for lack of anything better.
The receptionist called me then. I went to the door and asked her if the woman would be all right.
The receptionist said, "Oh, she gets herself worked up all the time. She snaps right out of it."
She was gone when my appointment ended.

Its time to think about the Superbowl . . . Really, it is.
And I just don't know. I think the Colts being a touchdown favorite is a bit suspect. But that's as deep as it goes.
When it comes down to coaching, Tony Dungy has proven he's a clas