You know we've had problems getting a fourth for tennis these days. Well, today a 21- year-old college senior was our fourth. The fact his chemistry professor is one of our regulars may have influenced his decision to join us.
In any case it was a revelation playing with this incredibly energetic young man. The revelation was all on our side as we watched him dart from sideline to sideline and net to baseline to return everything hit on his side of the court.
Occasionally his professor/partner got into the act but “Eric The Everywhere” got everything else.
Although he was playing against two octogenarians he hit hard and placed the ball well. And as we moved him around the court, marveling at his ability to get to virtually every shot, we almost forgot to stay in the point.
It didn't help that a six-year-old girl taking lessons on the next court was belting every shot from her instructor back at him. We couldn't decide who to watch first, Eric or the kid.
Somewhat distracted, we dropped the first two games then “gathered ourselves” (as TV's golf analysts say) and won our set, 6-4. Fortunately, our hour of court time expired before we did.
An old quote sums up the experience nicely:
“Youth will be served, every dog has his day and mine has been a fine one.” George Borrow, 1803-1881.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Here, it's just Friday
Not Black, Brown or any other color. Just Friday.
Our contribution to the economy was staying out of the stores. Think of it this way, we were two less people bargain hunters would have to shove away to get a clear shot at their target items.
One of those bargain hunters was aided and abetted by my grandson, Ben. He accompanied a friend to a Walmart last night. The store opened at 10 p.m. and they were one of the first shoppers. Not the first but among that surge.
How'd they do? Ben said his friend saved about $200 on a 40” 1080p TV set. “It was a steal,” he said.
We ventured out of the house only once today, to go our gym. It was unusually crowded with muscular young men, a far cry from what we usually see there. They were either college kids on break or high schoolers off for the Thanksgiving holiday. In any case they weren't shopping. It would not have been easy to muscle these guys away from the counters.
Tomorrow is Saner Saturday.
Our contribution to the economy was staying out of the stores. Think of it this way, we were two less people bargain hunters would have to shove away to get a clear shot at their target items.
One of those bargain hunters was aided and abetted by my grandson, Ben. He accompanied a friend to a Walmart last night. The store opened at 10 p.m. and they were one of the first shoppers. Not the first but among that surge.
How'd they do? Ben said his friend saved about $200 on a 40” 1080p TV set. “It was a steal,” he said.
We ventured out of the house only once today, to go our gym. It was unusually crowded with muscular young men, a far cry from what we usually see there. They were either college kids on break or high schoolers off for the Thanksgiving holiday. In any case they weren't shopping. It would not have been easy to muscle these guys away from the counters.
Tomorrow is Saner Saturday.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
A Nod to Technology
Most of the time I gripe about excess technology. Today was different.
We received a call this morning from Israel announcing the birth of our fourth great-grandchild, a girl. We had been expecting the news and were delighted when it came.
There was nothing extraordinary about using the phone to tell us the news, but then we had a bonus.
My grandson, who told us about the birth, Skyped us as well and we had a video visit with him, my granddaughter (his wife) and their two girls, who are both under 3. The girls looked a little confused about who they were seeing on their computer screen. But they were adorable.
Things were complicated by poor audio at their end. We could hear them fine but they had problems understanding us. I still haven't figured out why we can hear a Skype call fine but the other party can't hear us well.
Later in the day, through the miracle of technology, the new father sent us a photo of his daughter via email. Naturally she's beautiful and everyone comments on how much hair she has.
Anyway, all is well with the entire Israeli family and we are planning to visit them early next year. Lot's of kids to catch up with.
In New Jersey, we spent a wonderful Thanksgiving with our son, Rob, daughter-in-law, Caroline, their four young adult children and Caroline's Mom.
I'm especially thankful for having completed yesterday 44 radiation treatments for prostate cancer. I don't usually discuss health issues with other people but when I mention this experience to other men of my age I'm astonished at how many responses of “been-there-done-that” I get.
I guess it's the de rigueur disease of older men.
We received a call this morning from Israel announcing the birth of our fourth great-grandchild, a girl. We had been expecting the news and were delighted when it came.
There was nothing extraordinary about using the phone to tell us the news, but then we had a bonus.
My grandson, who told us about the birth, Skyped us as well and we had a video visit with him, my granddaughter (his wife) and their two girls, who are both under 3. The girls looked a little confused about who they were seeing on their computer screen. But they were adorable.
Things were complicated by poor audio at their end. We could hear them fine but they had problems understanding us. I still haven't figured out why we can hear a Skype call fine but the other party can't hear us well.
Later in the day, through the miracle of technology, the new father sent us a photo of his daughter via email. Naturally she's beautiful and everyone comments on how much hair she has.
Anyway, all is well with the entire Israeli family and we are planning to visit them early next year. Lot's of kids to catch up with.
In New Jersey, we spent a wonderful Thanksgiving with our son, Rob, daughter-in-law, Caroline, their four young adult children and Caroline's Mom.
I'm especially thankful for having completed yesterday 44 radiation treatments for prostate cancer. I don't usually discuss health issues with other people but when I mention this experience to other men of my age I'm astonished at how many responses of “been-there-done-that” I get.
I guess it's the de rigueur disease of older men.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Wait, wait, there's one more...
Seems I was hasty saying we had heard from all the contractors we contacted about repairing our flooded basement. Another one called this morning apologizing for getting back to us so late. He said he'd been on vacation.
Since he was recommended by a friend we said OK, let's talk. He'll be here Friday morning and we'll see what he thinks we should do.
Meantime, Happy Thanksgiving all.
Since he was recommended by a friend we said OK, let's talk. He'll be here Friday morning and we'll see what he thinks we should do.
Meantime, Happy Thanksgiving all.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The Last Contractor
We've gotten bids from several contractors in recent weeks on how to treat our basement, which was inundated with eight inches of water during the Halloween snowstorm and subsequent power failure.
The last one arrived today and gave us his ideas on what we should do down there. Now we have to decide. To say we are conflicted is putting it mildly.
We've lived here since 1963. The basement had knotty pine paneling when we moved in and it still does, although the paneling has been sawed off at the bottom twice for french drain installations.
When our kids were young, they used to store their toys down there (at least that's what my wife tells me. I don't remember.) But I don't recall them playing there.
We've always used the basement for clothes washing, drying and ironing (she does). I store stuff and occasionally empty the dehumidifier. We have what we euphemistically call a “work bench” but it's really a catch-all for old tools, paints and assorted odds and ends. Rarely is it used for work.
In fact, two of my oldest possessions are on or under the bench. One is a large scissors from my father's tailor shop in The Bronx and the other is my late older brother's Boy Scout hatchet. I've never used the hatchet and only once in a while used the scissors. But I'm keeping both. Sentimental value.
So, back to what to do with the basement. Do we replace the paneling? Don't want to. Do we put up some sort of dry wall? Maybe. Today's option was to remove the paneling and just paint the masonry walls white so any new owner will see a nice open room and do whatever they want with it. Sounds reasonable.
We haven't received any estimates yet from any of the contractors and that's probably what will help us decide. I'm leaning toward the “less is more” resolution.
We'll see.
The last one arrived today and gave us his ideas on what we should do down there. Now we have to decide. To say we are conflicted is putting it mildly.
We've lived here since 1963. The basement had knotty pine paneling when we moved in and it still does, although the paneling has been sawed off at the bottom twice for french drain installations.
When our kids were young, they used to store their toys down there (at least that's what my wife tells me. I don't remember.) But I don't recall them playing there.
We've always used the basement for clothes washing, drying and ironing (she does). I store stuff and occasionally empty the dehumidifier. We have what we euphemistically call a “work bench” but it's really a catch-all for old tools, paints and assorted odds and ends. Rarely is it used for work.
In fact, two of my oldest possessions are on or under the bench. One is a large scissors from my father's tailor shop in The Bronx and the other is my late older brother's Boy Scout hatchet. I've never used the hatchet and only once in a while used the scissors. But I'm keeping both. Sentimental value.
So, back to what to do with the basement. Do we replace the paneling? Don't want to. Do we put up some sort of dry wall? Maybe. Today's option was to remove the paneling and just paint the masonry walls white so any new owner will see a nice open room and do whatever they want with it. Sounds reasonable.
We haven't received any estimates yet from any of the contractors and that's probably what will help us decide. I'm leaning toward the “less is more” resolution.
We'll see.
Monday, November 21, 2011
And the children shall lead them; to the past?
Yes, folks were talking about children's books, old-fashioned children's books printed the old-fashioned way where you have to hold them between you and your child and read aloud to them. According to a story in today's NYTimes those darn kids just don't want to be e-read at bedtime.
They want print, paper, ink, shapes, sizes, things to hold onto, or as one Dad put it, to “spit up on.” His rationale: “a book may be easier to clean up than a tablet.” Yech!
While e-readers proliferate, according to the Times, it's the parents themselves who prefer turning the pages of real books with their children at bedtime. So let's hear it for 2-1/2 year old Georgia who, according to her mother, “reads only print books.” And Mom works for a digital company.
They are definitely conflicted, these 24/7-wired-to-the-hilt parents. They know that soon enough their offspring will be hi-tech all the way but something about childhood demands the discipline of learning to hold, read and turn the pages of a real book.
With luck, that habit could last a lifetime, or as long as what they call “dead-tree” books are published. I'm rooting for the toddlers.
Quoting one parent from the Times' story: “If he's going to pick up the iPad, he's not going to read, he's going to want to play a game. So reading concentration goes out the window.”
Is that what all those people are doing on their hand-held devices? Playing games when they could be reading Tolstoy?
No wonder the birds are angry.
They want print, paper, ink, shapes, sizes, things to hold onto, or as one Dad put it, to “spit up on.” His rationale: “a book may be easier to clean up than a tablet.” Yech!
While e-readers proliferate, according to the Times, it's the parents themselves who prefer turning the pages of real books with their children at bedtime. So let's hear it for 2-1/2 year old Georgia who, according to her mother, “reads only print books.” And Mom works for a digital company.
They are definitely conflicted, these 24/7-wired-to-the-hilt parents. They know that soon enough their offspring will be hi-tech all the way but something about childhood demands the discipline of learning to hold, read and turn the pages of a real book.
With luck, that habit could last a lifetime, or as long as what they call “dead-tree” books are published. I'm rooting for the toddlers.
Quoting one parent from the Times' story: “If he's going to pick up the iPad, he's not going to read, he's going to want to play a game. So reading concentration goes out the window.”
Is that what all those people are doing on their hand-held devices? Playing games when they could be reading Tolstoy?
No wonder the birds are angry.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
At Home, Off Line
Headline in today's NYTimes: Out on the town, always on line. Naturally the story was about young people twitting, texting and otherwise keeping in touch with their multitudes of friends all while enjoying (?) their nightlife.
Here’s our version of life in the fast lane:
First of all it's far from fast. We sleep late and don't have our smart phones (we don't have any), iPads or laptops in our bed. At breakfast, we read the Sunday paper (or as much as we want to at the time.)
Then it's household chores. Today was a lovely day so much-postponed yard work was completed. Still no phone calls or texts from anyone. Just us, talking to each other directly. (Full disclosure: I did check email. Nothing but solicitations.)
Then we composed and wrote a thank you note. Emphasis on wrote. Not email or text; a handwritten note with complete words and sentences. Put it in an envelope, addressed it by hand and put a stamp on it. We'll mail it tomorrow. How retro is that?
Then we called friends on a real phone and made a date to play Bridge at their home in the afternoon. We played just under two hours and there was not a cell phone in sight. We also talked to one another. It was a very social interlude.
The evening was equally quiet. My wife made one real phone call to a friend to set up a date for the morning. We watched some TV and read more of the Sunday paper; the real paper, not the online version.
And now, when I suspect the younger generation is just getting ready to go out on the town, always on line, we're turning off and turning in.
Here’s our version of life in the fast lane:
First of all it's far from fast. We sleep late and don't have our smart phones (we don't have any), iPads or laptops in our bed. At breakfast, we read the Sunday paper (or as much as we want to at the time.)
Then it's household chores. Today was a lovely day so much-postponed yard work was completed. Still no phone calls or texts from anyone. Just us, talking to each other directly. (Full disclosure: I did check email. Nothing but solicitations.)
Then we composed and wrote a thank you note. Emphasis on wrote. Not email or text; a handwritten note with complete words and sentences. Put it in an envelope, addressed it by hand and put a stamp on it. We'll mail it tomorrow. How retro is that?
Then we called friends on a real phone and made a date to play Bridge at their home in the afternoon. We played just under two hours and there was not a cell phone in sight. We also talked to one another. It was a very social interlude.
The evening was equally quiet. My wife made one real phone call to a friend to set up a date for the morning. We watched some TV and read more of the Sunday paper; the real paper, not the online version.
And now, when I suspect the younger generation is just getting ready to go out on the town, always on line, we're turning off and turning in.
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