A Five Ring Sunday Circus

Alright, so I got sucked in.  I’ve taken to watching the games and in large measure it took track and field to hook me.  Well, it took track.  My cynical side, which as anyone who reads this regularly would know is dominant, tells me that the strength events are PED tainted.  I still feel burned over those two USA Track and Field Championships at Stanford a few years back.  A few years back can be translated to mean “the Balco years.”   I spent top dollar for good seats, hyped the events to Cora and then we found out after the Balco bubble burst that many of the results from both meets were frauds. 

It's The "O" Games - Oh My!

“The Olympic Games are the quadrennial celebration of the springtime of humanity.”
Pierre de Coubertin

“Every party needs a pooper, that’s why we invited you.”

From a little ditty.

Being the curmudgeonly party pooper is a tough job but someone has to take it on.  The “O” Games have begun and the world and NBC are all atwitter.  You’ll notice that I’m not using the proper word to describe these quadrennial events that are equal part sport, nationalism and soap opera (Currently two years separates the winter and summer games.  In years past the winter and summer games occurred in the same year).  I’m staying away from the actual word itself because it has an armor plated copyright, defended with badger-like tenacity and I don’t have a lawyer with the horsepower of the “O” Organizing Committee’s lawyers to fight off any suits over my use of the “O” word (In fact I don’t have a lawyer of any horsepower). 

I’m being extra cautious because according to a story on NPR the “O”, organizers in London are being O-verly zealous this year about protecting the copyright.  The “O” games lawyers (If the games were being held in nearby Dublin, could we call them O’Lawyers?) are working O-vertime making sure that nobody sells fake merchandise, hijacks the rings to promote their laundry business or dog sitting service or misuses the “O” word.  We have an “O” Boulevard here in nearby Walnut Creek; I’m wondering if the town fathers are consulting the city attorneys.

When Success Usurps Honor

"When the legends die, the dreams end; there is no more greatness.”
Tecumseh of the Shawnee

“Publicity is like poison; it doesn't hurt unless you swallow it.”  Joe Paterno

“Success without honor is an unseasoned dish; it will satisfy your hunger, but it won't taste good.” 

Joe Paterno

It was one of those Facebook debates sparked by a post that was quite a bit deeper than, “I am at Disneyland;” “I just ate spaghetti and meatballs” or “I just ran 5 miles.”  It was more controversial than “Rush is big fat idiot” or “Romney is a whore to business,” or “Obama wasn’t born in America.”

“Not trying to defend the cover up by Joe Pa but why is that everyone's focus? I'm so sick of hearing about that. How about the media puts the focus on the actual person who committed the 42 counts of child molestation!”

Seaside Repose

"But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean."
H.P. Lovecraft

Late of a July afternoon.  Lolling on a wooden bench, hand hewn, sun bleached and weather beaten.  Near the edge of a coastside bluff overlooking an azure Pacific Ocean scattered with diamonds of shimmering sunlight. 

Turning the Century

Every now and again we do something that attracts the admiration of some and makes us the laughingstock of others.  There’s skydiving, buying a motorcycle (or if you’re over 50 buying a Corvette convertible), scaling the face of El Capitan and most recently in my case, riding a bike 100 miles; in one day.  A few months back I signed up to do the Livestrong Challenge bike ride in Davis CA.  My co-worker across the hall expressed a fair amount of admiration.  My boss in the office next door thought I was nuts.  And that was more or less the mix; some thought admirable and others certifiable.    

Why We Ride: John

It was hard to hold a conversation.  He would speak a few words and then be interrupted by a cough; a wet, relentless cough, releasing a malicious fluid that gurgled up from deep within his failing lungs; a cough that convulsed his entire, now frail, body for what seemed minutes at a time.  The coughing seizures seemed to last for minutes and left him spent beyond the exhaustion brought on by the illness itself.  I was visiting John at Kaiser Hospital in Oakland.  John was dying.  I knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it and John knew it.  By this point John was philosophical about it all.  John was dying of lung cancer.

31 Forgotten - and Remembered

There’s a saying, “It’s always the simple things that change our lives.”  For us maybe it’s the simple things that define our lives.

It’s the 7^th inning and the Giants are working hard at dropping a Sunday get away game to the visiting Oakland A’s.  Cora comes into the room and for some reason I remember that I should be remembering something.  That’s kind of how it works when you start getting up in age; you have to jog your memory to jog your memory; sort of a mental double clutching.

Another Giant looks at called strike three and then it comes to me.  I'm not even sure why it comes to me at this particular moment but I look at the date on my watch and then at Cora, “Uh, isn’t it our anniversary today?”

“May 20.”  It registers with her.  “Yeah; 31 years.”

“Happy anniversary,” I deadpan.

“Happy anniversary,” as she looks back at the score.
She starts to go back to what she was doing and I settle back to watch another Giant futility .