THE SHIRT-A MARIJUANA MIRACLE-LIKE A CARTOON

OK-HERE'S THE SHIRT

     This blog is nothing if not sensitive to you, dear reader. Several of you responded that I should have shown the neon yellow tennis shirt which earned me such derision last week.  Some of my tennis mates even suggested I should show the shirt.  OK, I hear you.

   I admit it is way out of my usual white or blue color zone, but I've been reminded that a couple of others have been seen sporting the color on the pro circuit.

The great champion Rafa Nadal...

Courtesy of thesidelinesagenda.com

...and the battling Argentinian Juan Martin Del Potro

Courtesy straightsets.blogs.nytimes.com

     Wow is it empowering to be linked in the same post to Nadal and Del Potro!  Pretentious and absurd too!

A MARIJUANA MEDICAL MIRACLE?

     Dr. Sanjay Gupta, one of the best of the broadcast journalists, presented an astounding and heart rending story  in his CNN Special Report WEED.  The piece linked here, details how a compound in marijuana has essentially saved and then improved the life of a young girl with a medical condition that results in seizures.  As a result of the success many other children are being treated as well.

     I was surprised to learn that Israeli medical researchers are leading the world in finding medical application for marijuana in treating dementia and cancer-the disease states and not just the symptoms. 

     CNN is attempting to reassert itself as a valued news organization and Gupta's work is a big piece of that.  He's found a way to report medicine and science in an accessible and enlightening manner.

LIKE A CARTOON

    I saw this the other day and thought the termite control tenting made it look like a cartoon house-something out of a Tim Burton movie.

   See you down the trail.

THE WEEKENDER-A GIFT

BEYOND CAROLS

     A couple of weeks ago I posted a video with Dan and Phil Ponce, a couple of Chicago news casters who are also extraordinarily talented musicians and singers.  Dan was one of the founders of Straight No Chaser an a Capella group formed at Indiana University that is now a hot ticket.

       As fate would have it, several of you have sent me videos of the group, so I am "re gifting."  Most of you are no doubt aware of them, but for those of you who are not-

Enjoy.  Here's an early gift.

AND AN EARLY VERSION OF THEIR FAMOUS RENDITION

DAVID HANGS IT UP

     An era came to a sad but noble end today. I think of it as a ghost of Christmas future.  

     A tennis partner quietly announced at the net as we were shaking hands at the conclusion of a match, that he would no longer be playing. David said he could not trust his balance anymore and he didn't want to take another fall, as he has twice this year.  David is an octogenarian.

     I didn't play tennis until we moved to Cambria.  My court sport in Indiana was basketball, but wanting to stay in shape I began as a late aged neophyte on the tennis court. It took months of some awful play before I was worthy of joining into a foursome.  David, Phil and Janos were the first group to ask me to sub from time to time.  They were also the first group to ask me to join as a permanent player.

     I play three days a week in three different foursomes now, but the Friday morning 9AM foursome on Court 1 was the "mother's milk" of my tennis play.  David, Phil and Janos allowed me to learn and grow and they are a delightful group of guys. After our play, we always end up at Lilly's coffee deck for wide ranging conversations and a good dose of friendship.

      David and I were often partners and there would be times he wore a frustration at what had departed his game. But there were also those times when his wicked cross court shot, or a hard hit liner would do the job and was evidence of a man who had great game.  He particularly enjoyed, as I did as well, when we would rally back from being down and win the match. We both would leave the court with more spring in our step.  He remained a competitor though he knew his days of being an excellent player were history. He loved the game and he continued to play.  

     David was also the picture of a gentlemen competitor at all times.  He evinced a great sportsmanship and integrity.  He is also a true gentlemen in every other regard.  A class act if ever there was one.  As well traveled as anyone I've met, even among other globe trotting journalists, David is a great joy in social settings.  We hope he will continue to join us for our post match coffee.

      Our buddy Phil has been on medical leave of recent, though his love for the game is pushing him to get back on the court as well.  In my few years of play I have come to know that love of the game and can understand how tough it must be to hang it up.  David will now take up lawn bowling, of which there is a tough league in Cambria.  And he may join the ping pong matches.

      I am indebted to Janos, Phil and David.  I will miss David's enthusiastic narratives and droll humor as we play. And I hope at some distant match, holiday season or other wise, I can leave the game with the same class and gentlemanly style as David.

      And for the record David's quick returns and well aimed shots earned us several points today.

      See you down the trail.

     

VOCALIZING

MEN AND THEIR OATHS

Photo Courtesy of Coast Guard, California Highway Patrol and the Associated Press

     It sounds as though the 77 year old pilot and his son were pretty cool as they waited two hours to be pulled from the sinking pontoon plane.

     The AP reports the son says his dad landed it well, in the Pacific, a mile off shore of San Simeon, north of Cambria.

They were on their way for an annual Alaskan fishing trip when the engine died.  Their locator beacon worked and in a couple of hours the Coast Guard chopper was at work pulling them up, just as the plane was beginning to sink.

      What do you think a dad and son would have to say to each other as they bobbed amongst elephant seals, great white sharks and took the waves in a dead plane? Few conversations get that kind of setting.

COACHING YOURSELF IN OUTBURSTS

AND OTHER OATHS

    It was amusing to hear what came from other tennis courts as our group took a break between sets.  Guys were being vocal with them self, berating their own play or lack of control.  Since the courts are on a school campus there is a club policy against profanity. In that context I heard a few God    Bless Americas! being hurled in that voice that seems as if it struggles with control.  Mostly, guys talking to themselves, like a coach; keep your eye on the ball (insert name), stroke it, don't poke it (insert name), oh!, where were you going with that shot (insert name)? 

     In a few minutes I was back on the court, and probably 

fully engaged in that "hybrid coaching" well.

     We love our games don't we?

     See you down the trail.

TAKE THE TIME....

ENJOY THE GIFTS

    My partner Art and I were simply outplayed today.  We 

both struggled with control, but we forced a tie breaker in the second match. Still neither of us were satisfied with our play, but we came off the court winners anyway. 

    The temperature was in the 70's, the sky was blue, the surrounding highlands were green, a gentle breeze blew and a pal had come to watch and then join us for coffee at Lily's.

It doesn't get any better than that, even with a winning score.

    It's a matter of perspective and as a boomer I still need to remind myself of that.  The days of task orientation have been replaced by days like this and the score of a tennis match is secondary to being on the court, in the game and 

engaged in a joyful celebration of right now.

DAY BOOK

THE RUTH CAMBRIA ROSE

 Lana calls this Ruth Cambria Rose named

for our friend who gave us a clip of a 

rose that grew on her fence.

 This is a season for it.

A WORLD CLASS VIEW

We were fortunate this weekend to attend

a gathering on a coastal highland with

an extraordinary view.  The view deserves

better optics than mine, but here's

a sample of California at its most magnificent.

See you down the trail.

WHEN VALIANT EFFORTS MATTER

OF HAVING BEEN IN THE ARENA
PURELY PERSONAL RUMINATIONS
A confluence of events has me seeking strength
from a favorite observation by
Teddy Roosevelt.
I offer it below.


I was saddened to learn from a tennis partner and friend
 he is hanging it up. He also plays a few days
a week and I joined his longstanding foursome for Monday doubles play about a year and half ago. We met him and his wife when we arrived 5 years ago. They are
fine people. He is a talented and crafty competitor 
who has played the game for decades.  He offered
great patience when I picked up the sport about
3 years ago and I've improved from those matches
when he was on the other side of the net.  He
gave no quarter.  He could smash the ball to your feet,
kill you with a cross court or alley shot or one of his feathering drop shots with spin. He seemed to love the game
and the spirit of competition and every match, win or loose was great fun.  He told me today it just hurts too much
now and that after playing he is forced to take
a pill to stop aching.  He said "it is just time. It was bound to
happen."  You hate to see a great competitor leave
the arena.


I also noticed an obit that fed the sense of melancholy.

From San Luis Obispo Tribune

Sunday January 8, 2012

Art Rogers passed away in a nursing home Morro Bay, just down the coast from Cambria. He was 93. In his day
Art was one of the best sports photographers around.
You've probably seen his work in Time, Sports Illustrated,
and the old Look and Life magazines.
He spent his career with the LA Times where he
won the National Headliners Award among others. He was 
part of the team that won a Pulitzer for the coverage of
the 1965 Watts Riot.
He was a U.S. Navy photographer in the south Pacific
during WWII.  He is also enshrined in the Hermosa 
Beach Surfers Hall of Fame.
Like my tennis buddy he is also a Californian.


I've always been a bit envious of California guys. After all
this is the state that we chose to move across
country to after reaching a maturity in our own lives.
I confess that coming here in someway was
motivated by a spark of an idea that in California
you can play forever.
Well, to be sure Californians do play a long time
and with a gusto and joy.
Thus the touch of sadness when the game is over


Another sportsman offers a bolstering thought:

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

Teddy Roosevelt issued those great remarks

in a speech "Citizenship in a Republic"

delivered at the Sorbonne in Paris in April of 1910.

Today they make me feel better.

DAY BOOK

The Sun Always Rises Again

See you down the trail