End Of An Era

The Coolness was out walking the dog and snapped this as it flew by overhead. A last viewing in flight. An end to an era. Farewell, Endeavor.

Back From The Green Goodness

I had posted that I would be getting more up here, then I went on vacation, etc. So, in the interest of giving you something for your patience:

The Coolness, Boo, and I just returned Monday night from my parent's home outside Spring City, TN. We were there with my brother and his family to reunite with kin and have some fun.

This is from Monday night, I think? That's my dad on the right and my (older) brother hamming it up in the center. I had to put that he's older in there, given that he still has his hair, damn him! I think, because after working our way through 2o some-odd years worth of Spanish Riojas (2007, 2008, 2005, some others) recollection is a bit fuzzy. 

That's paella we're preparing. It was awesome. So sorry you could not have some (Not really, your absence meant more for me).

The night before was ribs, if I remember correctly. Then there were burgers and brats, as well as a fish fry night. And I won't even tell you about the awesomeness at each breakfast.  Needless to say, I gained a few pounds while in the hot green of Tennessee.

The vacation was a great time, and Boo greatly enjoyed playing with her cousins all week. We did a great deal of swimming, water-skiing, fishing, and general-hot-day lazing in the sun. 

The Coolness and I actually got free for one night for dinner in Chattanooga. 

John Ringo and his wife Miriam met us in town. We had a nice meal and exceptional conversation. They had us back to their home, where The Coolness was introduced to all seven cats in the Ringo household while I had a tour of John's writing cave, caught a glimpse of his process and got to read some work in progress. The Coolness even got a signed copy of Queen of Wands, which she'd been eager to read ever since finishing Princess Of Wands some years ago. An exceptional night.

The return trip was not so pleasant. The flight was fine, it was after landing in SF at 1030 PM that things began to go awry. As an experienced traveller, I went straight to where the luggage disgorges onto the carousel. I wasn't quite in the preferred spot, but I was close to it, ready to grab my bag. 

A woman came in from my right, stomped on my foot, reached across in front of me, and grabbed a bag. I bit my tongue so as not to curse and swear a blue streak in front of my daughter and the rest of the public. Stomper dropped the bag after discovering it wasn't hers. 

Balancing on one foot, I stumbled into the man on my left's space. He hissed at me. 

I apologized to him, "I'm sorry, but I just got stepped on."

Stomper didn't apologize at all, and continued to occupy the space. 

"Lady, there a reason you don't feel the need to apologize?" I asked.

She made no response, AND DID IT AGAIN when her bag arrived a moment later! When I had recovered sufficiently to decide whether or not to deck her, she was gone.

Foot throbbing, I waited for another twenty minutes while bags kept coming, none of them mine. I asked The Coolness to check with the lost baggage counter. The carousel stopped moving some minutes later, so I limped over and joined The Coolness, who was just getting to the front of the line. It was now nearing 1110 PM.

I handed across my baggage claim ticket and was told that the bag went to Atlanta and would not be arriving till the next day. I arranged for them to deliver the bag the next day and we got out of there.

Then began the long walk to the shuttle for long term parking. Followed by a long wait for said shuttle. Then the shuttle had to stop 9 times in the mile it takes to get to the parking garage. 

We got to our car at 1200 AM. 

On the drive home, a trio of moronic drivers raced between packs of traffic, swapping lanes without signaling and generally putting the public at risk. Stressful, to say the least.

So, to recap: Great vacation, and SF is full of people that are either out to hurt or stress me out.

Mythbusters

Both my daughter and I have long been fans of Mythbusters. The show has carved an incredible niche for  itself by presenting both science and entertainment to the public.  There is far too much of the latter on TV today, and far too little of the former.

Add to this formula the hosts: they are all people I could see myself both having a conversation with and being entertained by. They have, in their way, made it cool to know something of science.

In particular I love that my daughter gets to watch Kari Byron, an attractive woman and mother, conducting experiments and taking the lead on projects the show takes on. I delight in my daughter's affection for this role model, as I am surrounded by strong women at home and at work, but just don't feel there are enough representations of women like The Coolness or the judge I work for or the lead clerk of my court on TV.

I try and find good examples for her to observe, but they seem hard come by. So it was fun to see this on GeekMom:

"Even though I will have to eat live bugs this season and possibly handle poop, I am not fazed. I still do exciting, daredevil, and wild things — but now I do them so that my little girl will know that a mommy can distinguish between a C4 and an ANFO explosion.

If I want my daughter to be an adventurous independent woman who doesn’t shy away from new experiences, I will have to be that woman too." -Kari Byron

Just you keep it up, Kari! My daughter is watching, as are any number of girls awaiting inspiration.

Pain Can Be Such Pleasure

In a lot of pain just now.

Twenty-one years ago I played my last soccer game. The family had moved to Switzerland for my last two years of high school. I played just as hard and fast as I had for my Varsity squad in Peoria.  I received a yellow card each game. The cards, coupled with the language barrier that prevented me getting to know my teammates, killed my desire to play.  Instead I played rugby a few times, thoroughly enjoying it.

But I didn't continue to play rugby when I returned to the States, and never returned to soccer either.
Most of the soccer leagues I might have attempted were a little hard-core for me, as out of shape as I was and with my concern that I not hurt myself, preventing me from working.

Last week The Coolness played in a local coed 30+ league. I watched as her team played their asses off.  They had no bench and insufficient bodies to cover all positions.

Regardless, both teams had lots of fun, and had great attitudes.

I was in.

This week, I played goalie for The Coolness' team. I showed up kitted out and ready to play in that position, as last week's goalie had pulled a calf muscle and couldn't play.

As I was warming up, I hear, "Barber."

I look over and it's one of my Academy classmates, who lives south of SF, but comes out to play most weekends. Small world.

Warmed up, I stepped on the field for the first time in 21 years to play a position I don't recall ever playing in a real match. The opposing team had us outnumbered and outclassed, shooting five shots for every opportunity we had. It wasn't a matter of lack of skill: once again we had less than a full squad, and no relief.

I discovered exactly how poor my conditioning is. I am so glad I wasn't playing in a position that might have required me to actually run for extended periods.

I made about twelve saves, a few of which were quite good. My daughter watched the entire game, mostly from a seat behind me in goal, offering encouragement and fetching balls that rocketed past.

I did let four pass me by: Two were simple errors I pray I won't make again. One was a beautifully arranged shot that the player slipped in over my head, and the fourth was a free kick that the ref called but that could have gone either way.

We scored no goals.

The opposing team will certainly remember me. I unintentionally put a player from the other team out with one of my punts. Trying to clear the ball to an open forward, the ball left my foot like a rocket and connected with the guy's face six feet from my foot.

So now, I smell like a mint julip, hurt like I haven't in ages, and am happy as a clam.

I feel so good.

Is It Only Wednesday?

Had a rather startling offer of a new position yesterday at the day job. I have, after consulting with The Coolness, decided to take it, though it still has to be approved at the very highest levels in the department.

My schedule will change, in that I will be working entirely days, but weekends will still be off, for the most part... I will be doing a lot more real work, but dealing less with the asshattery of the public. All this is set to begin (hopefully) with the New Year.

I think my writing schedule will be a bit thrown for a few days, at least the every day portion, until I become acclimated to the requirements of the new position.

I am almost -dare I say it? excited about this.

The Coolness

I have nothing to complain about, today.

Or rather, I would just be whining if I were to complain today. Instead I think I'll just fuckin' write.

All is right with the world.

My parents, like my daughter and wife, are the best of people, and I don't deserve them.