Got to start carrying a camera!

The other afternoon we went to the "new" Farmer's Market. The "old" Farmer's Market, located for many years off of Burnet Rd fell victim to the rising cost of real estate and will soon be some fast food joint or another CVS Pharmacy. Of course there is still a big Farmer's Market out by Burger Center, but that's closer to San Antonio than Austin. The "new" Farmer's Market is located in the Triangle - that previously empty space where North Lamar and Guadalupe come together, then diverge (across from the School for the Blind). That space is now filled with apartments and shops and restaurants in another version of the European-style high-density village.

Of course, the whole area is a high dollar, up-scale type of place, so we should not have been surprised to find that the new Farmer's Market might better be titled "Yuppie's Market." The emphasis is on earthy-crunchy produce and products and I wouldn't be surprised if you have to pass a pesticide test to market your goods. There was a lot more herbs and hummus available than tomatoes and okra.

But what I needed the camera for was to record how an individual on a bicycle (without a basket) managed to ride off with two large watermelons. Now I ask you, if you were faced with the task of carrying not one but two large watermelons on a bicycle, how would you do it? You might handle one under the arm, but not two. The plastic bags offered at the produce stalls weren't up to the task. What to do?

Think saddlebags. The purchaser snugged a couple of bungee cords around each melon, then the cords went over the back fender and attached to the cords on the other side. Slung like saddlebags on either side of the back wheel, the cyclist pedaled off with his purchases to his melon fest.

Is this a great town or what?

Generating traffic

I was wandering through Blogdom the other day and came across a post on generating traffic. By that, this blogger meant getting people to come and read your blog. This is a big deal for many bloggers; the higher the traffic count the more authoritative the blog (and in many cases the higher volume of advertising). The author of this particular post said that bloggers should be very conscious of one's Technorati score. Okay, I confess that I didn't know what a Technorati score was, let alone that I should be conscious of it, so I went exploring.

The short version is that there is a Technorati website and it apparently is Blogger Mecca. Among other things they assign a ranking to all existing blogs, based on various important technical thingys and the blog with the lowest number wins. It took me a while to find my ranking, but I am proud to say that RetiredInAustin has a Technorati ranking of 3,900,132. That's right, folks, there are nearly 4 million blogs more popular than mine! Actually, I just checked again and since yesterday 30 more blogs have become more popular than mine. I think I'll quit checking.

Now the truth of the matter is I blog to amuse myself. If others find something of interest or amusement in my blogging all the better, but this is not the place to look for important news or deep philosophical meanderings. It is sort of a gonzo journal on my part, recording what strikes my fancy. If it tickles your fancy too, you are welcome. But at 3,900,162 and going down I wonder if I should do something to boost traffic. I've got it! I'll have a give-away! I'll give away a fabulous prize to the 500th visitor of the day (I think I'm pretty safe, since I average 5 visitors a day).

Or maybe I'll just continue to amuse myself.

How NOT to coach a Youth League team – Part II

Actually, it was a pretty low-profile appearance on the part of the police. A Mom sitting on our side had called it in (probably about the time Dad had to be restrained) and two officers showed up almost immediately but maintained the appearance that they were just strolling by. There was some serious discussion on the field among all parties until it became clear that no one at this point in time was going to injure any one, and the BC did in fact finally leave the field, whereupon the Ump called the game. Now all the remaining coaches got upset at the Ump! Just because there had been a near-brawl, two ejections and cops called to the scene? You’ve got to be kidding?

At this point in time, a man who had been sitting quietly in our section called the Ump over and said quietly to him, “You may want to rethink that decision.” Turns out he was the umpire’s father and undoubtedly the most controlled man on the field to have sat quietly through all that. I couldn’t help but contrast his behavior to Dads when his child was being threatened. They talked it over; the volunteer coaches were OK with continuing in the BCs absence – Play Ball!

But the BC wasn’t actually absent. He made his way to a picnic table located behind right field and sat out there, following the game. In a minute we noticed that he was on the phone, and then saw one of his volunteers – phone in his ear – go over to make a line-up change. The BC was calling in instructions from afar! We really expected the volunteer to take the phone out to the pitcher at some point.

Well, to wrap this saga up, Jericho’s team – several runs down when all this took place – rallied furiously in the last inning and made it an exciting, competitive ball game, losing only by a couple. Game over, the BC returned to the field; there were a couple more displays of poor sportsmanship, and we all went home shaking our heads at the lessons that had been taught that evening.

Later, the word was that the BC (who by the way is the individual with overall responsibility for that league) was going to apologize at the next game. We had to come home before that happened, if it did. And to think – the worst thing that ever happened while our kids were playing ball was Mom having to sit behind the outfield fence so the Umpires couldn’t hear her yell!

How NOT to coach a Youth League team – Part I

We timed our trip to West Virginia to be able to attend some of Jericho’s ballgames. Because of rain, we only got to see one, but it certainly provided all the entertainment one could hope for – and then some.

The age-group Jericho is currently in has a pretty wide range, size wise. Many are smaller than Jericho and others much larger. Some of the bigger kids can put it out of the ballpark or make the backstop ring with a pitched ball that the catcher doesn’t stop. Boys on this side of a growth spurt don’t do that as well. And there were one or two… So between those who stood out and those who simply stood up, there were many opportunities to marvel as well as hold your breath.

And so it went, until about the 6^th inning. Jericho’s team was in the field and an opposing player got a modest hit and tore out for the bases. In this league, making a double out of a single isn’t hard to do – however one should at least come somewhere close to 1^st base in the process. The referee stepped out from behind the plate and told the kid on Jericho’s team who ended up with the ball to make the throw to 1^st – the runner had not tagged.

Now you have to remember that this is Parks and Rec ball, and the umpires are high-school kids trying to make a few bucks during the summer. The youngster didn’t realize that it was wrong for him to advise the other team of the runner’s error, and he was clearly at a loss as to why the coach for the other team came boiling out of the dugout. He got in the Ump’s face. Really got in his face. Somewhere during the Saturday morning the Rec Department spent on training high schoolers to be umpires, they probably told them that belligerent coach (BCs) should be tossed, and so the kid used the only defense he had against this overwhelming tirade and threw the coach out of the game. This brought the assistant coaches out of the dugout and then it got really interesting.

Reinforced, the coach continued to yell and harass the kid. He picked up the bat that the runner had tossed and during his verbal barrage shook the bat in the Ump’s face. This brought the coaches from Jericho’s team out of their dugout and they began to pull the BC away from what appeared to be a physical threat against the boy. This set off the BC’s assistant (later learned he was the Dad of the BC; I guess he thought his 35 year-old child was in danger) and he actually had to be restrained by the volunteer coaches – he was coming after Jericho’s coach big time. By this time the Ump had pretty well identified the behavioral pattern of belligerent coaches, so he ejected Dad, too. Dad’s wife promptly took charge of Dad and they left – probably hurrying to the ER because it really looked like he was going to have a stroke then and there. Meanwhile, the BC continued his tirade in fits and starts, and then the cops showed up.

Sorry, I have to milk this for all it's worth. Stay tuned for part II.

My day in court

No, it’s not what you think. I got a jury summons. I have to admit, they have it down pat in Travis county; you can go online when you get a summons, answer all the questions, block out the dates you can’t serve during the next couple of months (like while we were in WV) and get assigned to a court on the spot (like the day after we got back from WV). No cattle-call, no 2nd appearance for empaneling. They confirm your assignment with e-mail and like the airlines, urge you to confirm online a couple of days before your appearance. The e-mail business was handy when I got sick in WV and doubted that I would feel like showing up. Handy, but not helpful. If I wasn’t going to show up I would have to call the Judge’s office and plead my case.

There’s no parking within 10 square miles of the courthouse, so they instruct you to go to the park-and-ride at Austin High and catch a ‘Dillo (trolley). That sounds good if you know where that park-and-ride is, but they did a super job of hiding it under a bridge and there was some concern that there would be an APB out for me before I could find it. I did finally locate it and from there it was a simple ride to the courthouse. Well, simple except for the construction delays (downtown Austin is under construction; not just part of it – all of it is under construction!) and the fact that the ‘Dillos have no – repeat – no suspension. Every bump is transmitted directly to the spinal column, accompanied by a loud noise. They are, however, nicely air-conditioned, and you get to sight-see. Hmmm. Another protest group. I wonder what that one's about?

The next challenge was getting through courthouse security. I thought it was a pain to get through an airport with your baggies of liquids and your metal objects in the trays. At the courthouse, you remove everything in your pockets, down to the lint. For a minute I was afraid she was going to make me take off my belt. That would certainly insure a safe environment because I would not be able to make any terrorist threats while trying to hold my pants up.

Up in the courtroom we waited about 30 minutes while clerks and lawyers scuttled through and then the judge came out and said the case was dismissed and we were done and would we like to donate our $6.00 to a good cause (actually, if you get picked and serve you now get $40 a day. That pays better than selling books on Amazon).

Back to the ‘Dillo stop, stand in the 100 degree heat for 15 minutes and hop back on for 30 minutes of air-conditioned spinal adjustment and find yourself back at the courthouse. Who knew? Catch the ‘Dillo on the other side of the street and you only have to have a 10 minute adjustment before you are back at the park-and-ride, refreshed and feeling good about fulfilling your civic responsibility. Is this a great country or what?

There and back again

We're back from a grand adventure in Wild and Wonderful West Virginia. I don't need to include a picture about how my days were spent - the one from last year will do just fine, thank you! We went to one of Jericho's ball games (now I will be blogging about that), ate at favorite places (including the dining room table that looks out over the hillside at Julie's) and spent quality time sitting by the pool. The weather was cool (even chilly at times). About the only thing missing was Jason, who was at our house while we were at his. Go figure.

We celebrated Jacob's birthday a bit belatedly, Jericho's birthday on time (text me, Dude, before you run out of pay-as-you-go minutes), Father's Day with a nice lunch at Chedders, and then my birthday with a visit to MedExpress. Right. I woke up with Strep Throat on my birthday!

I got better, we got home, we are back in the swing of things, but I do wish it were as cool here as it was there!

No TV!

The other night we settled down for our evening routine and turned on the TV to watch the second game of the best-of-three finals of the NCAA Women's Softball Championship. No TV. Just a big flat-screen sitting there showing me a high-definition picture of nothing! Everything turned on, and the little info band at the bottom of the screen said we were watching Women's Softball, but there was no picture and no sound. I flipped through several channels and the little info label changed accordingly, but no picture anywhere.

I rebooted the cable box, waited the long minutes for it to return to normal and still no TV. Finally I bit the bullet and started the time consuming process to get in contact with someone at Time-Warner. Thirty minutes later an altogether too-cheerful person told me that yes, there was an outage and that they were working on it, but she didn't know when service would be restored.

No TV! It's not like we depend on the TV to complete our life and provide comfort. Many evenings it doesn't get turned on until time for the news and sometimes not even then. We mostly watch sports and that for the enjoyment of the competition - not so much because it is a TV program. But now that we couldn't have it, I wanted my MTV! I checked every fifteen minutes or so through the rest of the evening, unable to deal with the isolation of no TV. Cut off, abandoned, tossed up on a desert island.

Finally about 10:15pm life returned to normal. Picture and sound and the weatherman telling us it was going to be hot. Again. All was well at last.

And the team we were rooting for lost 11-0 and Arizona State won the Championship. We wouldn't have enjoyed the game anyway.

How to frighten your Director

Yesterday during my time at the RFTB&D, I was reading a book on creative writing that contained many excellent examples. I enjoyed reading this book, because I could really get into the material.

One essay by Louise Erdrich, an author of Ojibwa extraction, related that in the earliest records, women of the Anishinaabe nation (of which Ojibwa is a part) had names such as Walks with Wind, Lightning Proof, Speaks Well, and Walks Far. When the missionaries came, in an evangelical frenzy those names became Mary and Martha and other good Christian identities. Louise’s grandmother, who started life as Carries Sunshine became just one more Catherine.

Ms Edrich richly described what her later research uncovered about her grandmother's remarkable life as a creator and seller of native craft items and the prestigious place she held in the tribe, but her childhood memories of Grandmother Catherine was of an old woman who spent her days in a chair behind the door in her mother’s house. She lived neither in the present nor the past, but in a world all her own, and sat quietly day by day. But occasionally, some cognition would take place in Grandmother Catherine’s mind and she would get up and start home. Never mind that home was a thousand miles away and no longer existed, Grandmother Catherine would start out traveling unerringly to the East – across neighbor's yards, through creeks, across roadways – on her way home.

She would, of course, be returned to her chair, and until that idea faded from her mind she would have to be restrained in the chair, and the chair tied to the wall.

Now if you know me very well, you know that I did not make it to the end of this essay. I struggled with it a bit, then gave up and sat silently, tears in my eyes. My director, a novice teenager, stopped the recording, and then in a bit, wide-eyed, pressed the intercom to see if I was okay?

I told her that yes, I was okay, and if she worked with me much she would get used to these lapses. It may take her a while to understand, though.

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