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Posts Tagged ‘sports’

the Rose, the Thorn and the Caterpillar

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on July 29, 2025| Leave a Comment »

Anyone alive in the era of Chevy Chase vacation comedies knows how to play travel games with kids while driving, like memory games or counting license plates from a certain state. “I spy with my little eye…” Well, since the Bride and Groom are rather old school, I’m happy to report our Grands are experts and one favorite is “the Rose and the Thorn.” On the trip home, they recount the highs and lows of their vacation. I can’t wait to hear, but meanwhile…

“Wanna play Boggle?” Bob gives me the look. “No…” “What about Scrabble?” Bob gives me the look again.

Eventually we sit down in my snug, him on his iPad and me at my desk, to tackle the New York Times Puzzles. Like toddlers in parallel play, we start with Strands and move on to Wordle and Connections. We share possible answers and take turns leading. If the mood strikes, we might even try the Mini Crossword.

Do you like to play games? I love to play games, but Bob is another story. He grew up with two brothers in a cerebral family of doctors. His mother listened to opera. It didn’t help that he just wasn’t naturally athletic, he even disdained golf! In Yiddish, he was what you might call lovingly a klutz – “Klutz (rhymes with “what’s”) is Yiddish for “piece of wood,” and refers to a person who is clumsy.” After his cerebellar stroke, I told the kids that Dad would just be a little klutzier than usual.

I grew up playing color war at Camp St Joseph; every day, with every sport, we’d gain (or lose) points for our team. It was cut throat, even our Jacks games on the cabin porch were merciless. At home I’d play Scrabble with Nell and the Flapper and chess with my brother. I played cards with Daddy Jim almost every night after supper, we’d keep pennies in a cigar box for the occasion. Today, my favorite game to play is backgammon which I recently found out originated in ancient Egypt! I have a few sets of backgammon; one is small and magnetic for travel, and another is hand-carved sitting proudly on a vintage game table in the family room.

Only the not-so-L’il Pumpkin will play backgammon with me because supposedly I win all the time??!

But I’m ready to branch out to MahJongg! Last month after dropping the Love Bug off at Temple for her Bat Mitzvah practice, I discovered a social hall filled with middle-aged/elderly/women playing MahJongg in the middle of the day. I thought I’d died and went to heaven. How could I join this group? Unfortunately, their next beginner session was during our California vacation. Then the Bride informed me that she wants to learn how to play too! It seems that after the pandemic, a younger generation was looking for a reason to build community, and not by going to bars or playing Bingo!

 “The game trended in the U.S. in the 1920s after an executive who had lived in China introduced it to well-to-do friends in California. A group of Jewish American women who were fans of the game created the National Mah Jongg League in 1937, developing an American style of the game and creating a lasting affinity for it within a culture that, like the Chinese, was othered in America.“

I’ve watched my friend Les play MahJongg. She’s had a game going for years; every month they travel to a different house but it’s at night since some of the women are still working. I love the aesthetics of the game – the feel of the tiles, the sound of the shuffling and the beautiful carvings. I’d love to find an old Bakelite set. And of course, any excuse to get a group of like-minded women together is a good day in my book!

Luckily, Les has offered to teach us – the Bug too! She’s not putting her house on the market quite yet, so we’ll have time to learn. And she told me about an addendum to the Rose and Thorn game. After you’ve recounted all the highlights (like seeing dolphins) and lowlights (like being stung by a jellyfish) you add the Caterpillar. In other words, you set some goals for the next trip! Maybe we take in an opera? Aspirational thinking, I love it!

Here is the Big Chill at our Y2K trip to Holden Beach. Strangely enough, Lyle put me in charge of the entertainment. The Bride stayed behind in Rumson to throw her own party.

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On the Cheap

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on February 10, 2025| 1 Comment »

I was cheering last night as the Eagles demolished the Chiefs. My feelings have nothing to do with football, it’s simply that my great great grandfather got on a boat from Ireland and settled in Pennsylvania. I may have grown up across the Delaware Water Gap in NJ, but my PA roots run deep. Like Jill Biden, my blood also runs green.

My concentration wavered after the halftime show. The outcome was obvious, so I may have tuned into Celebrity Jeopardy, but I swear I didn’t see the camera cut to Mr T once; I saw Taylor, and Ann Hathaway, and even Sir Paul. He was always my favorite Beatle. And since the one and only time I met our current president was at an NFL game in NY in the 80s, I had to wonder if he had enough attention last night to satisfy his outsized ego?

That morning my brother, Dr Jim, was recounting his experience of attending the Super Bowl with the Minnesota Vikings in 1975. He and his wife Anita flew to New Orleans on a private jet, attended the parties, rode on the team bus and entered the stadium with our brother Mike, the Vikings president and GM. We all knew that Mr T was trying to acquire an NFL franchise, at the same time he was acquiring a new wife, but none of the owners were willing to sell. Or maybe he didn’t have the money?

So the conman realtor bought his way into the rival, fledgling US Football Leasue (USFL) and proceeded to mount a hostile takeover of the NFL. Does this sound like a familiar business plan? His incompetent management was likely one of the reasons the USFL failed. He sued the NFL and was awarded a grand total of three DOLLARS.

In the trial, NFL attorneys framed their case around Trump, arguing that the lawsuit was a charade orchestrated by Trump as a way to get into the NFL on the cheap. The argument worked.

“I thought he was extremely arrogant, and I thought that he was obviously trying to play the game,” juror Patricia Sibilia recalled in a telephone interview last year. “He wanted an NFL franchise. . . . The USFL was a cheap way in.” https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/donald-trumps-long-stormy-and-unrequited-romance-with-the-nfl/2017/09/23/979264a4-a093-11e7-8ea1-ed975285475e_story.html

I guess the Commish has a short memory!

I think we are witnessing a hostile takeover of our government, a kind of coup from within, and Elon Musk is the General. We should have learned from Mr T’s business tactics, or from his biography. He’s shown his true colors time and time again – in his real estate dealings, in his marital infidelities, in his obsession with the NFL. He once said that if he’d been allowed to purchase the Buffalo Bills, he probably wouldn’t have run for president! When I read that, I nearly choked on my coffee. All he needed back then was 80 Million Dollars.

Maybe Fox gave Mr T pre-game exposure, but I didn’t watch it… besides, I was excited to see a certain ad that the Rocker’s company produced. Ticket sales to this year’s Super Bowl went down for the first time ever, and womens’ sports teams are rising which is a tiny silver lining to the past few weeks. Here is the Bug, on a winning streak.

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Olympic Dreams

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 31, 2024| Leave a Comment »

It was forty years ago in LA, the Olympics that is, when we were living in the Berkshires and I was about to give birth to the Rocker. We lived in a farmhouse on the outskirts of a bird sanctuary. Idyllic and terrifyingly beautiful, surrounded by cardinals, chickadees and grouse, there was a dairy farm up the road. I had picked the date of his birth, a repeat C-section was scheduled; Reagan was president, I remember watching the Olympics live while nursing my newborn baby boy.

“Synchronized swimming and rhythmic gymnastics debuted in Los Angeles as Olympic events, as did wind surfing.”

There is a picture of us at the Bris, tall gladiolus of every color stood guard while friends gathered. Two rabbis came and Grandma Ada was there. She would drive four hours from NJ, always bringing food, “Did you eat?” and a cousin or two. We loved to sit on the swing in the big screened-in porch; the bassinet was on that porch because babies need fresh air. I looked so young, so peaceful. Or maybe I was just exhausted.

“John Williams composed the theme for the Olympiad, “Los Angeles Olympic Theme” later also known as “Olympic Fanfare and Theme“. This piece won a Grammy for Williams and became one of the most well-known musical themes of the Olympic Games…”

I’ve just returned from LA, from visiting the Rocker and Aunt Kiki. My baby grew up to be a talented musician and composer. His company debuted two new trailers while I was there – one for a movie and one for an Apple series. I told them about the Woodstock themed 40th birthday party I’d planned for Bob’s big day, and we talked about my son’s generation – listening to Kurt Cobain, learning to design and create websites. Somewhere between Gen X and the Millennial Generation, the Rocker is a Xennial, a unique subset.

“You have a childhood, youth, and adolescence free of having to worry about social media posts and mobile phones. … We learned to consume media and came of age before there was Facebook and Twitter and Snapchat and all these things where you still watch the evening news or read the newspaper.” https://www.bos.com/inspired/xennials-what-you-need-to-know-about-this-micro-generation/

Their California home is like a tree house, perched on a hill with lush tropical plants. We watched the Paris Olympic skateboarding finals on Peacock, a streaming platform. I thought about my son doing tricks on a skateboard, playing rollerblade hockey, moving effortlessly through my dreams. He is tall and lanky like my brothers, Po the Cat drapes herself along his legs while we critique the athletes. And we cooked and played together in the kitchen to fantastical music Kiki curated. My baby is turning 40.

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Draft Dodgers

Posted in an expository essay, Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, criminal justice, Public Policy, tagged , , , , , , , , on April 30, 2019| Leave a Comment »

This was not your burn-your-bra-along-with-your-draft-card kind of weekend, then head for Canada. No.

This was the biggest single thing to hit Nashville since the advent of Country Music Awards. The NFL Draft on Broadway not only sacrificed some of our cherry trees, it drew overall 600,000 football fans across three days to the Honky Tonks, who spent well over $100M on merch, booze and housing. That’s a lot of cowboy boots!

And to round off the festivities, the Rock and Roll Marathon saw 30,000 runners sprinting up Rosa Parks Blvd, followed by Parrot Heads that evening at the Bridgestone Arena. It was a perfect storm sort of Spring awakening for this city and I was glad the Bride only worked the first night; with rain dampening the Draft, her ER shift went smoothly – one scooter injury here, one drinking injury there…

Then she and her family did what most natives and transplants alike did, they flew the coop. It was the first camping experience for the Grands and they loved it, scary stories and all.  A great way to dodge the Draft!

It wasn’t quite that simple for us because I got a severe case of the stomach flu. My daughter tells me it’s going around, which doesn’t help much. It knocked me out for 3 full days and nights, just when we were going to tackle all the boxes we’d shoved into all our closets so we could hold a Seder like Alice’s Restaurant; you know Arlo’s song, where you could get anything you want, except bread of course, there were no baguettes to be found, only matzoh.

(Here I could digress about how we used to attend Torah study in the Berkshires with Arlo Guthrie, but I won’t 🙂

My brother, Dr Jim, tells me that the Draft used to be a bunch of old, white guys sitting behind a big white curtain that would open to reveal all the new college picks in about an hour in each NFL city. Open and shut. That was back in the roaring 80s, when my brother Mike was President and General Manager of the MN Vikings. Today, from what I could gather between bouts of nausea, the Draft looks like Hasty Pudding skits put on by grown men. Guys dressed like Cardinals, or gunslingers, parading through the streets re-enacting some arcane tribal ritual. I didn’t get it.

But the team owners still charged fans 20 bucks back home, just to sit in their stadiums and watch the Nashville Draft on a jumbotron. So, you could dress up like a Patriot and stay in Foxboro, MA. Maybe I do get it.

As Passover was ending, another mass shooting was happening at a Chabad in Southern California. A research analyst at the Southern Poverty Law Center has this to say:

“ ‘We’ve started referring to them as the apocalyptic community, these online groupings that are marked by a sense of urgency’ about the perceived threat to white dominance.”

Lori Gilbert Kaye is the name of the woman who was shot protecting her rabbi from a nineteen year old with a gun. The rabbi insists it was a miracle that the terrorist’s gun jammed, preventing more from being slaughtered.  A border patrol agent who had recently discovered he wasn’t really Italian (a family joke) gave chase. The young killer surrendered to the police, wonder of wonder.

We can only imagine what would have happened to him if he was Black.

We can talk as much as we want about apocalyptic hate groups being radicalized online, but you cannot ignore the facts – New Zealand just banned assault rifles after 50 people were murdered in a mosque.

It’s time we Americans stopped dodging the truth. Stopped re-enacting Gunsmoke while our sons and daughters are actually martyred in places of worship, schools, theaters and malls. Our landscape has become a battlefield and our elected officials have no moral courage.

This was our Seder table, where we opened our door for Elijah.

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Identity Politics

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 24, 2018| 6 Comments »

When I was the Rocker’s mini-league soccer coach, my brother Mike told me that soccer will never take over American Football in popularity. Of course wrecking cranes were tearing down the Berlin Wall at the time, and nobody would have predicted that either. However, the 2018 World Cup fever was electrifying and made me wonder just how viewership compared with the Super Bowl.

My whole family was cheering for France to win, and when they did “Mon Dieu!”

Then I happened to see a clip of the Daily Show where Trevor Noah, who is South African, congratulated “Africa” on the World Cup. I thought it was pretty funny, which is the point, but Oh La La, that hit a nerve in France. The French ambassador to Washington, Gérard Araud, wrote to the network saying Mr Noah had “misunderstood” the cultural model of his country. Well, either that or Mr Araud has no sense of humor.

Immigrant or first generation, like Great Grandma Ada who was born in Brooklyn to parents fresh off a boat from Russia, when is it OK to identify oneself as an American, or a French man or woman for that matter? In light of Mr T’s latest ploy, reminiscent of McCarthy era tactics, to denaturalize American citizens, to eliminate birthright citizenship and ship these children off to their parents’ countries by executive order, it would seem to be a timely question.

Declaring a person stateless isn’t really new; it was initially how the Nazi government was formed by stripping “certain” people of their rights.

In 1922, Albert Einstein said in a speech in Paris: “If my theory of relativity is proven successful, Germany will claim me as a German and France will declare that I am a citizen of the world. Should my theory prove untrue, France will say that I am a German and Germany will declare that I am a Jew.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/07/23/world/europe/mesut-ozil-germany-soccer.html?module=WatchingPortal&region=c-column-middle-span-region&pgType=Homepage&action=click&mediaId=thumb_square&state=standard&contentPlacement=5&version=internal&contentCollection=www.nytimes.com&contentId=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nytimes.com%2F2018%2F07%2F23%2Fworld%2Feurope%2Fmesut-ozil-germany-soccer.html&eventName=Watching-article-click

This morning I read about a German soccer player who quit his national team because of racism. Mesut Ozil had the bad judgement to pose for a picture with the Turkish leader, President Erdogan, and then performed poorly at the World Cup. He wrote on Twitter, “I’m a German when we win, but I am an immigrant when we lose.” Ozil was born in Germany.

Let’s not forget that Mr T got his start in the game of politics by questioning President Obama’s citizenship, and by fomenting fear of immigrants. He tweets absurdities about NFL players who choose to take a knee on their field of dreams.

My midsummer night’s dream is to register as many new voters as I can, naturalized or otherwise born in the USA, in order to reverse our country’s slide into the MAGA dustbin of history. Great Grandma Ada made this necklace with carved African totem beads, Russian amber, and turquoise from the American Southwest – our diversity can only enhance our politics, and our sports teams!

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Hoopster

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on June 6, 2017| 2 Comments »

Basketball for a four year old? Well, the Love Bug is almost five and will be starting Kindergarten soon, and she definitely is tall for her age. A mom in her preschool class recruited her for the summer league. Still, it was hilarious watching her team play back to back games last night. Some girls keep their arms up and run, some actually grab the ball and dribble, and some have learned to shoot!

Followed by another Predators win. Pittsburgh 1, Nashville 4 SCORE

Yes, I’m in Nashville. And who knew TN had an NHL team, right? https://www.nhl.com/predators Everywhere we went people were wearing their logo – that’s a saber-toothed tiger I think?

With two major sports teams in town, and lots of gorgeous parks, three YMCAs and a Greenway and city bikes, I was surprised the Music City came up only 42 on the American Fitness Index (AFI) list of healthiest cities this year, http://www.americanfitnessindex.org. It is based somewhat on per person spending on parks and obesity-related diseases. Number 1 this year is Minneapolis, so here’s a big shout out to my brother Dr Jim! And congrats to our friend Steffanie, an elected Commissioner at the Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board!

On the nine hour drive to TN Bob and I listened to a This American Life podcast titled “Tell Me I’m Fat.” https://m.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/589/tell-me-im-fat

It was about fat shaming and women telling their stories of acceptance and/or denial. One categorized the condition, saying some just have to lose 20 lbs, some are Lane Bryant fat, then there are the morbidly obese. She called herself “super morbidly obese.”

One woman lost weight fast with a little help from phentermine, and she’s still taking it only now she copped to having to buy it in Mexico or online…

I looked at Bob, and he said she may actually be damaging her heart. That same woman longed for her former fat self, the happier, less worried and uptight model of her thinner self. She felt less authentic, like an imposter in a thin-suit. She worried her husband never would have dated her former self…

Wanting to stay strong, ease my back pain and lose that final 10 pounds…I found myself on the stationary bike at the Y yesterday, and I started talking with the woman next to me. We talked about travel and our kids, she’s about to be a grandmother and just had knee replacement surgery. We had such a good time talking and biking and our workouts flew by so fast we agreed to meet for coffee! We had an instant connection, both of us had married our first loves, only her hubby is an NFL coach!

For years I’ve been going to a gym in VA and never met anyone. Maybe it’s because I don’t play tennis, or maybe it’s because I just didn’t try. I’ve got a new attitude, thank you very much Patti LaBelle and Nashville.  You’re just a small town, with mighty miniature basketball stars wrapped up in a big shiny predator bow.

Here is the little hoopster helping her baby brother start preschool! IMG_0744

 

 

 

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7 Things To Do This Labor Day

Posted in books, Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on September 2, 2016| 2 Comments »

A friend asked me if I had any plans this weekend. I told her I’d just returned from Nashville, and Bob of course was working. ERs can get pretty busy when Summer turns to Fall. There was a slight chill in the air this morning as I kissed Bob goodbye. A pale sun glow illuminated the eastern ridge, as I sat down in the aviary to ponder plans.

1 – Shop Local… and sustainably! Forget about big box sales, on junk from China, my buddy Wendi has a delightful warehouse in Cville chockfull of anything and everything for your home. When the grande dames of Albemarle County start downsizing, they bring their gorgeous antique furniture and unique finds from around the world in fashion to her. I follow Leftover Luxuries on Instagram to see what rolled in this week; needless to say, you never know what you might find! A huge farm table for under $500? Bonus, you don’t have to build her furniture! http://www.leftoverluxuries.com/home

2 – Get Your Hands Dirty! Plant a new tree, or some bulbs. Now’s the best time imho to spruce up your garden. There’s only a couple of months of watering until frost steps in and you’re done! And if you don’t have a green thumb, our local potter Mud Dauber, (a gallery and studio of different clay artists) will be giving private throwing classes in their 1890s renovated barn – right down the road in Earlysville, near the Farmer’s Market! I was thinking this might be a good exercise for my broken pinky finger. https://www.visitcharlottesville.org/listing/mud-dauber-pottery/1218/

3 – Hit Up an Indie Bookstore – You know all about me and that famous Nashville watering hole for literati, but why not find your very own indie bookstore and lose yourself for an hour or so among the shelves? If there’s one thing Millennials and us Boomers have in common, it’s that we prefer to read real books on paper over a device of any kind. When I was writing for the Two River Times in NJ, I loved stopping in at Fair Haven Books – now known as River Road Bookstore. The ladies there knew my name and what I liked to read, so I never left empty-handed. In Prague I discovered the Palac Knih (Palace of Books), but here in Cville, stop by New Dominion Bookshop!  http://www.newdominionbookshop.com

4 – Take Up a New Sport – One of my Facebook friends mentioned that her son doesn’t like sports, what’s a mom to do? I told her not to worry, kids gravitate to their own beat; the Rocker hated baseball when he was little, even though I loved playing softball every summer at camp. Lacrosse was a no go, only ice hockey sustained my son’s interest. Coming full circle, his band Parlor Mob joined a Jersey Shore Rock and Roll team that benefitted several charities, and voila he was back out in the field again! My sports club in Cville opened a brand spanking new Squash facility last year, hmm… facilityhttp://www.theaquarian.com/2011/08/17/shoreworld-charity-softball-new-asbury-music-book-and-more/

5 – Do a Vineyard Tour – Central VA is full of vintners, honestly I can’t drive ten minutes without finding a winery! We’re kinda like Napa, only not so well known and greener. Millennials drive down here from Northern VA for weekend wine tours, but for us, it’s a hop, skip and a jump to the best terroir on the planet. My favorite wine of all time is White Hall, it’s a beautiful drive out past Crozet http://centralvirginiawinetours.com/wine-tours/  Or maybe think about planting your own grapes? That is if you’re not into craft beer, and beekeeping seems too difficult…ah, the toils of the landed gentry!  http://www.virginiaestates.com/virginia-farms-for-sale/starting/vineyards.asp

6 – Charlottesville City Market – If you’d rather buy your local produce, head on down to this fantastic farmer’s market very early tomorrow morning. UVA is back in session so this place gets crowded quickly. There are over 100 vendors in the downtown Water St parking lot, and you will find everything edible in season, and jewelry, wood carvings, gorgeous orchids and much much more. Plus, it’s an event. You are guaranteed to meet someone you know, and to learn something new. I hope Hermine decides to spare my friends in FL, and maybe hold the rain off here until noon. http://www.charlottesville.org/departments-and-services/departments-h-z/parks-recreation-/city-market

7 – Warhol Your World – If it’s raining, pop into a museum! There’s the Broad in LA where you will find Ms Cait, and the Frist Center in Nashville where my grand babies roam free. But here the UVA Fralin Museum will be finishing up its show of Andy Warhol silkscreens on September 18th. “The exhibition will pay special tribute to the concept of the icon, and the fluid definition of that term in contemporary society, particularly in relation to its historical definition. From Annie Oakley to Liza Minnelli and Saint Apollonia, in these prints as in other works, Warhol played on notions of celebrity through the use of the singular iconic image—repeated, reproduced, and reversed.”  http://www.virginia.edu/artmuseum/index.php   This is titled “Butterfly on Nana 1”

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Olympic Heights

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , on August 12, 2016| 3 Comments »

Are you watching? Do you gloat when Lilly wags her finger at that Russian swimmer who has been accused of doping in the past? In and around the Olympic pool, shaming a competitor is allowed. Go ahead and try to hack into our emails Moscow, we’ll show you a thing or two when the games finish up and the medals are counted!

Do you cringe when the bicycles crash? What about archery, or volleyball on the beach, in bikinis? My all time favorite is diving – guys, girls synchronized pairs, or alone. How in the world do they enter the water with a tiny ripple after somersaulting like birds in the sky?

I’ve been reminded that in 1972 the world experienced a seismic shift for women when Title IX was passed into law in our country. Sen Birch Bayh of Indiana said this on the floor of the Senate:

“We are all familiar with the stereotype of women as pretty things who go to college to find a husband, go on to graduate school because they want a more interesting husband, and finally marry, have children, and never work again. The desire of many schools not to waste a ‘man’s place’ on a woman stems from such stereotyped notions. But the facts absolutely contradict these myths about the ‘weaker sex’ and it is time to change our operating assumptions.”

Title IX was too late for me. Graduating from high school in 1966 – yes our 50th reunion is coming right up – my class was on the cusp of the feminist movement. My friend Lee is ten years younger, yet she experienced discrimination in law school, one of very few women. You had to be tough in those days to last, like Hillary!

At my girls camp every summer I had racked up athletic prizes. Basketball was my favorite, and I was the one lone player, the “roving” one, allowed to run the full length of the court because they didn’t think girls could play like the boys. There was no future for me in sports however. In high school I was always trying out for plays, the drama department had stolen my heart. I had compartmentalized any talent I thought I had, not consciously, but summers were for sports. Sure some girls played after school, but I returned to the “real” world, where the Flapper had to work and so I had to take the bus home every day.

I thought about dance, ballet had been a big part of my life. The one time I performed that wasn’t part of a musical on stage, was in the gym as part of the Girl’s Athletic Association annual award ceremony. I didn’t get a medal of course, but I did choreograph and dance an interpretive number to “I Enjoy Being a Girl” from Flower Drum Song. One PE teacher took pity on me, and encouraged me. Looking back, it seems ironic:

I adore being dressed in something frilly
When my date comes to get me at my place
Out I go with my Joe or John or Billy
Like a filly who is ready for the race

When I have a brand new hairdo
With my eyelashes all in curls
I float as the clouds on air do
I enjoy being a girl

I actually hate frilly. Moving on to my first year in college saw my first knee injury on a ski slope. Sitting on a chair at a law school mixer in a full leg cast, my first husband approached me. I should have known something was up; he didn’t dance himself. Washed up as a dancer, my dreams of being a super star on Broadway, a hoofer, were stalled.

So I did what every girl my age did, got married. The point is, we women of the late 60s couldn’t even dream of being super star athletes. Not then.

Today the “Final Five” USA Women gymnasts are super heroes, inspiring a whole new diverse generation of girls. And most importantly, all the women in Rio grew up with equal opportunities – Title IX was entrenched – whatever money went toward boy’s sports in public schools, had to be allocated to the girls too. In archery, tennis, golf, rowing, basketball, softball and of course swimming and diving.

Even though times they have changed, the media coverage of women in elite positions on the world stage hasn’t very much. I thought this was a provocative article – a little “sarcasm” if you will. Imagine covering a man the way some broadcasters talk about women. Maybe the world of male commentators thinks we are still waiting for our Joe or John or Billy?  It’s a good laugh if it doesn’t make you cry. “Congrats girl! Fiancé of former Miss California scoops his 25th medal” http://thetab.com/uk/2016/08/10/congrats-girl-fiance-former-miss-california-scoops-25th-gold-medal-13873     IMG_3652

 

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Loose Rebounds: or #2 UVA vs #4 Duke

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , on February 1, 2015| Leave a Comment »

So it’s Sunday, and while just about everyone I know is melting Velveeta and salsa together for Super Bowl munchies, let’s talk about the game that really matters – basketball!

Last night my beloved Blue Devils came from behind to beat the Cavaliers 69 to 63 right here in Cville at John Paul Jones Arena. Y’all know that Bob went to Duke, and the Bride graduated from Duke when Shane Battier was the major heart throb. We also had a close cousin go to Duke Medical School. So you can see that we come from a long line of Cameron Crazies, that our blood runs Blue – and royal blue, not that wimpy Carolina blue.

Even if the Bride went to UVA Med and we’ve been living and working in Wahooville for nearly a decade, this hasn’t changed my allegiance.

What, you didn’t know I was competitive? Didn’t I tell you about my halcyon basketball days at Camp St Joseph for Girls? This is about as close any woman my age can come to understanding warfare. That tight band of brothers/sisters we fought with, running up and down those pine planks; sweating, grunting, shoving, grimacing and feeling like our hearts were about to explode. I loved basketball, with a capital B!

Football, meeh.

Anyway, last night Duke delivered a must-see game if you’d like to know what it takes to win. And here’s the simple trick that I first heard about back there on Lake St Joseph, it’s called making “fast break points,” or REBOUND. When the opposing team has the ball, and they take that lay-up shot and it bounces off the rim, that’s your cue. You jump higher. You take possession of the ball. And you run like hell down the court. Swoosh. Their loss becomes your gain.

Time and time again, you keep on doing this, because you see all the other players are still trying to unstick their eyes from that near-miss basket, pivot their feet to go the other way, and stay in the game. Their brains are stuck for a second, and the smart team takes advantage of that. They end up in their court with most of the guards still shaking their heads on the other side of the center line…

Virginia lost their first game in 21 home games to a packed stadium last night decked out in orange. And Duke was behind for a good portion of the time, that’s another secret – You just never give up! “Duke’s 11-possession, 28-point explosion in the final eight minutes against Virginia turned the game — and perhaps the state of the ACC race — on its head.” cores.espn.go.com/ncb/recap?gameId=400587955

So, bring it Super Bowl. In my mind you just cannot compete with Travelocity’s Gnome, who was making the rounds in Cville this weekend. Life lessons aren’t learned in a feudal football jersey, with concussion injuries and too many sexual and domestic assault cases involving players in the news:

“The crime was horrific and the verdict stunningly swift. Two former Vanderbilt University football players are facing the possibility of decades in prison after it took a jury less than four hours to convict them for their roles in a 2013 sexual assault of an unconscious woman. Two more former football players await trial.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/29/us/vanderbilt-rape-trial-didnt-stir-students-on-campus.html?_r=0

Lessons happen when we reach higher and run faster than any opponent. And when we can find a gnome at Bodo’s!

Twitter: @roaminggnome

Twitter: @roaminggnome

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Teaching Kindness

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 24, 2014| 2 Comments »

I remember when we moved back to NJ. The kids were little when we attended a new parents night. The elementary school principal spoke about all the wonderful things her school had to offer; while we parents were encouraged to think about outcomes. What did we hope their school would help instill in its students? She made a list on a blackboard; it was a long list. Parents were calling out things to put on the list – creativity, cooperation, academic achievement. This was a school, mind you, where awards for Being Quiet were displayed proudly on one wall. I called out, “What about compassion?”

Silence.

The Love Bug and the Bride are visiting us this week, and I just happened to read an article about teaching kindness.

It’s amazing the subjects that deserve research, how does one raise a successful child? How to raise a happy child! Finally it’s occurred to someone that children need to be taught NOT to always think of themselves first. I’ve noticed with the Bug, who will turn 2 next month, that altruism is there just waiting to be nourished. She noticed my wrapped hand and kissed it immediately. She shares her food willingly. She pets Ms Bean gently.

But I always thought you teach kindness by modeling it yourself. It’s not something you need a worksheet for, it doesn’t need to be drilled into your child. Today I offered the Bride a small gift of time to work out at our sports club. I played with the Bug, while Mama and baby-to-be raised their heart rates a bit. Since it was raining when we arrived, we didn’t swim, but we joined in with a group of children who were at day care and tennis camp. Suddenly a toddler ran into a wall, cutting his eyebrow.

The Bride arrived just in the nick of time, she got to work examining the boy, cleaning his superficial laceration and reassuring his mama that it didn’t need sutures. The Bug saw some of this medical operation, and I’m sure she registered this in her brain. We are the kind of people who help people.

Random acts of kindness might sound good in a curriculum, but I think it’s something we learn before Kindergarten, at our parents knees. Maybe if more of us practiced this concept, we’d be less inclined to wage war, or shoot down planes for instance. Maybe it’s as simple as that?

Bug rock climber

Bug rock climber

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