extreme polarization sludge has taken over the politics of the county due mainly to the re-election process. the parties have reduced themselves to leveraging media to ignite political media bombs. collecting enough donations and getting enough votes. the actual legislation is just pay back, usually. there really should be an effort to limit terms. the unfortunate part is that what they do is actually very important and has consequences. if we got their minds off getting re-elected, they could do very good things. important things. and they still do good and important things despite the sludge. however, the other aspect of our current political state is the pure entertainment value. because this is interesting and very funny. fox and msnbc illustrate this firmly. to my daughters disgust, when i watch tube i flip around. flip from fox to msnbc. watch them cover the same stories. this might be a way to start the process of understanding both sides. the stars are in the media. the caricatures are mainly true. since downgrading politics to an entertainment level as opposed to a guiding light level in the volatile regions of my mind (same for my interested observer status toward the dallas cowboys--fandom no more), my perspective has broadened considerably. if the truth were told, bush and obama were, and are, disappointments to the extreme reaches of their own parties, especially economically. we muddle in the sludge, day after day. we get updates every night. debates, 6 on the screen at the same time. all talking. some disagreeing, some not. eventually, scope broadens and blinders fall. the proper citizen's perspective is gained.
9/25/10
The Final Mahut
When I walked on the tennis court for what turned out to be the last mahut of the first Isner Cup, I was weirdly optimistic about my chances to delay the inevitable end of the match. Keck had played brilliantly over the previous three months to find himself up 69-31 and after ten mahuts he was one game away from reaching the iconic 70, which would finally secure him the first match utilizing the Isner Scoring Method (ISM). After an extended warm-up, I spun the racquet to determine who would serve the first game. Keck, with a grin, confidently called up. When I looked at the butt of the racquet the Dunlop logo was clearly down and I felt like I had the early momentum. "Here comes the beast!" he said, "Your serve. Uh oh, could be your day." His condescending tone irritated me and I felt rage toward the man who, deep down, I knew would hold up the first Isner Cup later that evening.
After a few practice serves and token stretching motions, I signaled the beginning of the eleventh mahut of the isner match by raising a tennis ball in the air with my pitch hand and making eye contact with my opponent. Keck was bouncing around with light feet and his racquet was spinning in his hands. He nodded, "Mahut!", he bellowed. He wore a sky blue bandana like a crown and he was perfectly outfitted for the occasion, always preferring the most modern athletic fabrics. With the toes of my left foot, I took my spot and with a single sweeping motion, lowered the ball, took my racquet behind my back, tossed a spinless ball high in the air, arched my back, bent my legs, and exploded into my first serve. I had decided to start with a flat fastball and possibly catch Keck off guard and bouncing, waiting for the more routine topspin first serve. I plastered one down the mid line and he lunged for it after hesitating the other way. His racquet nicked it, but the fence rang loudly behind him. I was running toward the net and abruptly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the baseline. "15-love", I shouted as I positioned myself for the next service point. After a couple of bounces of the ball, I hit another nice serve. This time high and arcing with a left kick due to the topspin and follow through. Keck adjusted and made good contact with the ball with an inside out cross court forehand. I lunged to my left as I rushed the net and as the ball hit my backhand volley I absorbed the pace and dropped a dead shot just over the net. Keck stood behind his baseline without taking a step forward, "The master of the net. Like McEnroe." he said. "This could be your night. Too bad I only need a game, “he continued. I glared at him. "30-love", I said slowly with extra articulation.
As I was lining up to serve the next point something caught my eye. A pink ball was rolling across our court with a middle-teen age girl following behind. Not running, but walking fast. In obvious embarrassment and inadequacy. "I'm so sorry", she quietly muttered as she chased the ball. Hiding my irritation, I smiled pleasantly and assured her it was no problem. "Go ahead and get it", I said and she finally began running and picked the ball up. She went back to her court after another apology and I once again shouted out the score to Keck. I tossed the ball high and hit another solid shot that went in but nicked the net for a let, take two. My second first serve was swallowed by the net as I went for another flat heater. Keck hit my second serve at a severe cross court angle for a winner. "Why would someone play with pink balls?" I thought.
Keck won the next three points with laser beams and footwork, moving me all over the court in desperate reaches and loss of breath. I admired his play, though he would never know of my admiration. He was certainly worthy of the first Isner Cup. Consistent, thoughtful, and executed play. Never used a roddick; showed up mahut after mahut. The toughest loss he took was a 5-5 mahut, the same mahut I had my finest moment. My family applauded me that night. I kept the odor filled shirt on until my bedtime shower. Yes, Keck was worthy of the Isner Cup, and gracious in victory. I believe he felt sorry for me, which enraged me further. I didn't understand that about Keck. Perhaps I never will. Look who has the title. A true champion. "Wanna play the full mahut?" he asked after we shook hands at the net and downed some water. "The final mahut ends with the first to hit seventy." I said with breath-less mumble, and added, "You see, a mahut cannot be strictly defined as a 10 games, due to the final mahut having the possibility of going less than 10 games. Let's play a regular match, two out of three sets and then go get some beers."
After a few practice serves and token stretching motions, I signaled the beginning of the eleventh mahut of the isner match by raising a tennis ball in the air with my pitch hand and making eye contact with my opponent. Keck was bouncing around with light feet and his racquet was spinning in his hands. He nodded, "Mahut!", he bellowed. He wore a sky blue bandana like a crown and he was perfectly outfitted for the occasion, always preferring the most modern athletic fabrics. With the toes of my left foot, I took my spot and with a single sweeping motion, lowered the ball, took my racquet behind my back, tossed a spinless ball high in the air, arched my back, bent my legs, and exploded into my first serve. I had decided to start with a flat fastball and possibly catch Keck off guard and bouncing, waiting for the more routine topspin first serve. I plastered one down the mid line and he lunged for it after hesitating the other way. His racquet nicked it, but the fence rang loudly behind him. I was running toward the net and abruptly stopped, turned around, and walked back to the baseline. "15-love", I shouted as I positioned myself for the next service point. After a couple of bounces of the ball, I hit another nice serve. This time high and arcing with a left kick due to the topspin and follow through. Keck adjusted and made good contact with the ball with an inside out cross court forehand. I lunged to my left as I rushed the net and as the ball hit my backhand volley I absorbed the pace and dropped a dead shot just over the net. Keck stood behind his baseline without taking a step forward, "The master of the net. Like McEnroe." he said. "This could be your night. Too bad I only need a game, “he continued. I glared at him. "30-love", I said slowly with extra articulation.
As I was lining up to serve the next point something caught my eye. A pink ball was rolling across our court with a middle-teen age girl following behind. Not running, but walking fast. In obvious embarrassment and inadequacy. "I'm so sorry", she quietly muttered as she chased the ball. Hiding my irritation, I smiled pleasantly and assured her it was no problem. "Go ahead and get it", I said and she finally began running and picked the ball up. She went back to her court after another apology and I once again shouted out the score to Keck. I tossed the ball high and hit another solid shot that went in but nicked the net for a let, take two. My second first serve was swallowed by the net as I went for another flat heater. Keck hit my second serve at a severe cross court angle for a winner. "Why would someone play with pink balls?" I thought.
Keck won the next three points with laser beams and footwork, moving me all over the court in desperate reaches and loss of breath. I admired his play, though he would never know of my admiration. He was certainly worthy of the first Isner Cup. Consistent, thoughtful, and executed play. Never used a roddick; showed up mahut after mahut. The toughest loss he took was a 5-5 mahut, the same mahut I had my finest moment. My family applauded me that night. I kept the odor filled shirt on until my bedtime shower. Yes, Keck was worthy of the Isner Cup, and gracious in victory. I believe he felt sorry for me, which enraged me further. I didn't understand that about Keck. Perhaps I never will. Look who has the title. A true champion. "Wanna play the full mahut?" he asked after we shook hands at the net and downed some water. "The final mahut ends with the first to hit seventy." I said with breath-less mumble, and added, "You see, a mahut cannot be strictly defined as a 10 games, due to the final mahut having the possibility of going less than 10 games. Let's play a regular match, two out of three sets and then go get some beers."
9/18/10
Nobody To Blame
ever get to the end of your rope?
what then?
nobody to run to.
nobody to blame.
don't want to read.
don't want to work.
don't want to talk.
don't want to sleep.
don't want to breathe.
don't want to eat.
don't want to love.
don't want to be loved.
don't want to write.
don't want to type.
don't want to lie.
don't want to cry.
don't want to drink.
don't want to think.
don't want to smoke.
don't want to joke.
don't want to bathe.
don't want to cave.
don't want to cook.
don't want to leave.
pray.
what then?
nobody to run to.
nobody to blame.
don't want to read.
don't want to work.
don't want to talk.
don't want to sleep.
don't want to breathe.
don't want to eat.
don't want to love.
don't want to be loved.
don't want to write.
don't want to type.
don't want to lie.
don't want to cry.
don't want to drink.
don't want to think.
don't want to smoke.
don't want to joke.
don't want to bathe.
don't want to cave.
don't want to cook.
don't want to leave.
pray.
9/15/10
Never So Cold
what's up with you
feel a rock in my shoe
what's up with ya'll
no need to crawl
if you knew my name
could i catch your train
once i knew a prince
he was always tense
playing dominos
under a flock of crows
thought she never knew
had a rock in my shoe
start up the truck
think my tires are stuck
windows disappear
while the women sneer
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
stand here next to me
ask me what i need
despite the hands i hold
our love won't corrode
mighty to save
give me the love i crave
you're the missing piece
saved me from the beast
we're spinning our wheels
begging for the deals
it's at our fingertips
on the edge of our lips
reach out to the truth
climb up on the roof
take it to the streets
wash the beggars feet
egamd7
ame
feel a rock in my shoe
what's up with ya'll
no need to crawl
if you knew my name
could i catch your train
once i knew a prince
he was always tense
playing dominos
under a flock of crows
thought she never knew
had a rock in my shoe
start up the truck
think my tires are stuck
windows disappear
while the women sneer
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
ooooh, ooooh, got a rock in my shoe
oh, no my soul was never so cold
stand here next to me
ask me what i need
despite the hands i hold
our love won't corrode
mighty to save
give me the love i crave
you're the missing piece
saved me from the beast
we're spinning our wheels
begging for the deals
it's at our fingertips
on the edge of our lips
reach out to the truth
climb up on the roof
take it to the streets
wash the beggars feet
egamd7
ame
9/7/10
Moments
a moment of inspiration
who knows from where it came
gotta get this down
gotta get this down now
a moment of perspiration
from the tropical storm, i'm sure
a five setter in new york
the swiss are funny
a moment of inclination
better move when it comes
many people are inclined
to do nothing
a moment of flirtation
memories of those first glances
i still see them sometimes
and smile about our life
a moment of stagnation
why can't i move from this place
persevere and endure
other moments await
who knows from where it came
gotta get this down
gotta get this down now
a moment of perspiration
from the tropical storm, i'm sure
a five setter in new york
the swiss are funny
a moment of inclination
better move when it comes
many people are inclined
to do nothing
a moment of flirtation
memories of those first glances
i still see them sometimes
and smile about our life
a moment of stagnation
why can't i move from this place
persevere and endure
other moments await
9/4/10
Sparsile Out
had a chance last week to adopt some words.
many were available and they were on their best behavior.
hoping to make a good impression.
i'll be no trouble at all.
had to take a couple of days to decide which ones to take.
for it was assured that the adoptions would take place.
these words need love and the oxford university press.
was tired of them.
after much thought, i became the legal adoptor of the following words...
floscation, sparsile, leeftail, vitamin g, ectylotic, aquabib, heltic, tudiculate, prandicle, ten cent store, and fabrefaction.
when we got home, i searched for my new words in the webster's dictonary.
nothing.
on any of my adopted words.
i was asked if i meant hectic when i tried to find out what heltic meant.
after inital anger, and feeling betrayed by the english, again.
i walked outside to a very bright moon-lit night. clear.
and i felt that it was very sparsile out.
meaning refreshing or reinvogorating.
i'll determine the meanings of my words.
patience will allow me to find the right meanings.
aquabib sounds like a punk band name.
or the star of an infommercial.
very sparsile out tonight.
many were available and they were on their best behavior.
hoping to make a good impression.
i'll be no trouble at all.
had to take a couple of days to decide which ones to take.
for it was assured that the adoptions would take place.
these words need love and the oxford university press.
was tired of them.
after much thought, i became the legal adoptor of the following words...
floscation, sparsile, leeftail, vitamin g, ectylotic, aquabib, heltic, tudiculate, prandicle, ten cent store, and fabrefaction.
when we got home, i searched for my new words in the webster's dictonary.
nothing.
on any of my adopted words.
i was asked if i meant hectic when i tried to find out what heltic meant.
after inital anger, and feeling betrayed by the english, again.
i walked outside to a very bright moon-lit night. clear.
and i felt that it was very sparsile out.
meaning refreshing or reinvogorating.
i'll determine the meanings of my words.
patience will allow me to find the right meanings.
aquabib sounds like a punk band name.
or the star of an infommercial.
very sparsile out tonight.
Send This To 13 People
*received via email from ty weatherly....
Your cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain.
Next to his dog tags.
He knows he may not see some of his.
Buddies again.
You walk down the beach.
Staring at all the pretty girls.
He patrols the streets.
Searching for insurgents and terrorists.
He's told he will be held over.
An extra 2 months.
You call your girlfriend and.
Set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is.
A letter from home.
You hug and kiss your.
Girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and.
Smells his love's perfume.
You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and.
Wonders if they'll ever meet.
You criticize your government.
And say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent.
tortured and killed by their own people
And remembers why he is fighting.
You hear the jokes about the.
War, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs.
And screams of the wounded.
You see only what the media.
Wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around.
Him.
You are asked to do some thing.
By your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told even.
If it puts his life in danger.
You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home.
Sleep,and eat.
You crawl into your soft bed.
With down pillows,and get comfortable.
He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars.
And helicopters all night long.
If you support your troops.
Send this to 13 people.
e7am
d7
Your cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain.
Next to his dog tags.
He knows he may not see some of his.
Buddies again.
You walk down the beach.
Staring at all the pretty girls.
He patrols the streets.
Searching for insurgents and terrorists.
He's told he will be held over.
An extra 2 months.
You call your girlfriend and.
Set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is.
A letter from home.
You hug and kiss your.
Girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and.
Smells his love's perfume.
You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and.
Wonders if they'll ever meet.
You criticize your government.
And say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent.
tortured and killed by their own people
And remembers why he is fighting.
You hear the jokes about the.
War, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs.
And screams of the wounded.
You see only what the media.
Wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around.
Him.
You are asked to do some thing.
By your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told even.
If it puts his life in danger.
You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home.
Sleep,and eat.
You crawl into your soft bed.
With down pillows,and get comfortable.
He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars.
And helicopters all night long.
If you support your troops.
Send this to 13 people.
e7am
d7
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