Hockey is hard enough to watch on TV, but if there's a black speck on the TV-- or several black specks on a couple of TVs-- then things can get really confusing . . . sometimes you're following the puck, sometimes you're following the speck, and sometimes-- like that magical moment on The Office when the DVD logo hits the corner-- the black speck intersects with the actual puck and reality breaks down into an inception of the matrix.
I was nervous all day for our first state tennis match: we earned a bye in the first round and we had to play Point Beach today-- last year's sectional champ-- and while we matched up well against them, it's tennis, so you never know who's going to lose their mind, play poorly, smash their racket, start double-faulting . . . there are so many ways to fall apart in this stupid game . . . but we came to play; Ian had the toughest match, against a very solid player, and he beat him 6-0, 6-0 . . . and Alex, Boyang, and our very consistent second doubles team of Ethan and Patrick all won handily in two sets-- but we still can't figure out the perfect first doubles team-- they lost-- so we're going to experiment tomorrow and see what happens and then we'll probably play Shore Regional-- who is excellent-- in the semifinals on Friday.
One-Shot Harry, by Gary Philips, certainly evokes Walter Mosely . . . Harry Ingram, a black journalistic photographer/ Korean War veteran, attempts to navigate a slew of issues in 1963 Los Angeles: the fishy death of his war-buddy-- a white jazz musician; racist police; radical leftists and a radical romance; a photographic blackmail scheme; some typical heavies; the Nation of Islam; power and politics; and a plot against Dr. Martin Luther King . . . the prose is clear, the plot is thick, and the perspective offers a counterpoint to James Ellroy's take on this particular time and place.
Ian put in some hours working this weekend; Saturday he went to his county trail maintenance job with his brother and the heat was so brutal that they let them go home after lunch-- but that was enough time for Ian to ruin his gloves and consequently have to throw them away-- they were at some park in Old Bridge and they ended up cleaning up a homeless encampment and-- by accident-- Ian touched a bag of homeless person poop which ripped open (or something like this, he told me the story at a family bbq and I cut him short because I was eating) and then Sunday morning Ian worked for a lady, weeding and mowing her lawn, and then he went and mowed another lawn and then he called Ed Ransom, to see if he could work at his tennis camp, and Ed Ransom, a veteran teaching pro, said he needed to take a look at his game because he wanted someone to teach the advanced kids so we met him at a nearby park and the job interview turned into a tennis lesson (and Ian passed the interview, got the job, and improved the kick on his second serve) and now he's taking a well-deserved rest.
There's a forum on Reddit called AITA (Am I the Asshole?) and I wanted to put this incident on there (but forgot to post it) but I got into a bit of a beeping/traffic situation in the school parking yesterday afternoon, so I wrote that one up and posted it on Reddit . . . check it out and upvote me!
On Tuesday, my son Ian got to play Jack Wong, the eventual winner of the GMC tourney (and one of the best players in the state) and then he had another tough match on Wednesday against Spotswood's top player, senior Jason Acheampong; in the first set, though both players were hitting the ball very well, Ian beat him 6-0 and when he came over to talk to me he said, "After Playing Jack Wong, the ball looks like it's going so slow . . . everything is easier" but then the Jack Wong Effect wore off and he lost the second set 6-0 . . . but then he rallied and won the third set 6-3, a nice victory after playing a ton of tennis the day before . . . and we noticed the other player who played Jack Wong on Tuesday (and, like my son, got beaten handily) also had a great match on Wednesday and beat a good opponent decisively; the other thing that happened during the Spotswood match was an annoying hack of a tennis player, a white dude in a tie-dyed shirt, expressed some annoyance and impatience about the fact that there was a high school match going on and we were taking up six courts; I informed him that some of the matches might finish in 45 minutes or so and he would just have to wait and then he went over to the sixth court-- where some beginner high school players were having a match and apparently he insulted their play and told them their match would never finish because they couldn't hit the ball, so the kids came up to me and informed me and I went over to the guy and gave him a piece of my mind-- and I get very defensive when anyone fucks with my players so while I felt myself getting angry, I figured out a way to deal with the situation without punching the guy (and the Spotswood coach, who is a football guy and ex-lineman, had made his way over as well) but instead of yelling at the guy and losing my shit, I played the pedophile card and told him it was very odd that he was lurking around a high school sporting event, especially since he wasn't a parent or a coach, and that he was interacting with my youngest players . . . which I deemed highly inappropriate-- and then I told him he could read about the results in the newspaper and he needed to get away from the children and this worked quite well-- he beat a hasty retreat into the parking lot (and the Spotswood coach was impressed with my method, and now I know to use this method if this ever happens again).
Today was the GMC Tennis Tournament, an all day tennis extravaganza with 26 teams from Middlesex County in attendance . . . we left for Thomas Edison Park at 8 AM-- packing food, water, chairs, tarps, coolers, sunblock, sandwiches, snacks, rackets, balls, etcetera-- and Ian lucked out with a prelim walkover so then he played an undefeated kid from the lower division and he beat him handily in the first set 6-0 but then started fooling around in the second set but still ended up winning 7-5, giving him the honor of playing the overall number one seed (and one of the top five players in the entire state) Jack Wong from East Brunswick . . . so he got to have some fun against a serious athlete and college player-- Ian had to back up to the fence to hit his serve back and while he was able to stay in some games, he couldn't take one . . . Jack Wong also hit a court length tweener that turned out to be a winner; Alex had a similar fate, he won his prelim in a tiebreaker and then got to play the number one seed in second singles-- another East Brunswick kid (East Brunswick had the number one seed in all five events) and our other players and teams had a good day as well-- everyone advanced to the second round; Boyang then lost in a close one to the Metuchen kid (again) and first and second doubles faced very strong teams, after winning their preliminary matches . . . so no complaints-- everyone got to play two matches, no one got injured, we saw some incredible tennis, and we got some great practice for the state tournament (where we play only Group I schools, so we should be competitive).
This morning the weather report was grim: "High winds, severe thunderstorms, possible large hail, possible tornado" and there was an actual exclamation point next to the three weather slot and the recommendation to "be prepared and have a plan," and when I ran this by my students, none of them were aware of this and none of them had a plan . . . but apparently, it didn't matter-- the big storm never materialized, very disappointing, but the looming threat was probably good because it meant that the GMC Tennis Tourney was postponed until tomorrow-- so I was able to go to school today and spread the word about a nonexistent storm (and I was very successful in my acting endeavor, which related to the start of scene 3.2 in Hamlet, in which I pretended to choke on some water-- it went down the wrong pipe-- and then, in a coughing fit, consequently knocked over the water bottle, spilling water all over the carpet . . . the kids couldn't believe I was acting and decided that I should pursue a film career, though I could only act in movies where I pretend to choke on stuff and then knock things over).
It's hot, it's humid, and-- just in case you thought you were safe in the water-- the lantern-fly eggs masses, mortar colored and ready to hatch, are dotting the trees in abundance.
Emily St. John Mandel's new novel Sea of Tranquility floats by in an otherworldly manner, which makes sense-- since it is beautifully written about other worlds, other times, other timelines, and other possibilities . . . and while there are ghosts of the post-apocalyptic, post-pandemic world of Station 11, the current COVID pandemic, and the author herself, the book flows by in an odd, serene state of hypothetical possibility, the possibility that the world is a simulation, the possibility that you might interview yourself, that you might go back in time and live a recursive life, the possibility of moving too fast and too far, and the possibility of being still, and the possibility that time and motion and memory might be corrupted like a bad file . . . this was a much smoother and philosophical read than the last time travel novel I read, The Paradox Hotel.
We enjoyed a nice 4-1 win yesterday against St Joe's-- especially since their players were all wound up for senior day-- unfortunately, we didn't know that their school does NOT have tennis courts, so we went all the way over there, drove around a bit on their campus, and then learned that they play in Thomas Edison Park-- which is right next to Highland Park-- so we drove over there, got started late, had a couple matches go into the third set (and Ian was in an endless match with a really strong athletic senior) and when we finally finished it off, I found out that the freshman Ethan had ordered Uber Eats-- McDonald's-- but Ethan couldn't find the driver and this generally pissed me off because I had to be home to get to the GMC seeding meeting to learn about the county tournament so we searched the park for a few minutes for the delivery guy, but it's a giant park and the guy was way late, so I told Ethan to get a refund-- which he did-- and we headed home and I told the entire team to check with me before they did anything stupid (such as order food to be delivered to an enormous park).
One of the essential things I always try to remember is that there are lots of people that genuinely believe things-- holy things, moral things, sciencey things, etcetera-- and that is going to be really important going forward with oncoming the Roe v. Wade conflict . . . as a nonbeliever in most things, aside from the fact that sports with a ball are a good way to spend your time, I have to recognize that a bunch of folks with very vehement beliefs about where and when and under what circumstances you can abort a fetus are going to scream and shout at one another and many of us that have no clue as to the right and wrong of this are going to get caught in the crossfire.
Monday we had a big match against Metuchen which will probably determine the winner of the White Division-- and the two smallest schools by a large margin are at the top of the leaderboard-- and while the match started ugly for us, we made a nice comeback and Alex-- at second singles-- came up with a big win against last year's first singles player; Ian, unfortunately, had to play their young phenom, who stepped right into the first singles slot, and though Ian took an early lead, he lost the first set-- and he asked me what to do when "all this kid hits are winners" and I told him to hit it deep and hang in, which he did and he won the second set 6-3 so they headed to a third; meanwhile, Boyang was struggling at third singles, and our first and second doubles lost the first set- so I thought it was over-- but apparently the second doubles team are crazy twin brothers (two of three triplets) who are great athletes but often flake out, which they did and so our second doubles won the second and third sets, Alex won his match-- epic-- Boyang and first doubles lost; so it was two -two and it all came down to Ian at first singles-- and he pulled the heavy hitter into a third set but then went down 4-0 and it looked like all was lost . . . but Ian won four in a row and then split, so it was 5-5 (and the text strand to my wife was getting more and more insane) and then they fought it out to the end and Ian lost 7-5 . . . unfortunate, but-- as I reminded the team-- most teams are playing for nothing right now, so the fact that we got to play a huge match at the end of the season is what it's all about . . . especially as a coach and a dad, I was happy to be there and happy to be involved-- anyway, we had to recover to play South Plainfield, another good team, who beat Wardlaw twice on Monday-- a very good team-- and Ian recovered and won against a good player in two sets, but we had troubles elsewhere so it all came down to second doubles-- and they were bickering a bit when the match went to a third set-- but we were able to calm them down and they won the third set 6-2, giving us an excellent victory after a tough loss (and, as a side note, Alex had an AP test yesterday-- AP Calc BC-- and he won his match, and Ian had an AP test today-- AP Lang-- and he won, so I told both my kids those were banner days, more happened in a day that will often happen in a year of adulthood).
If you're looking for a fast-paced novel with gender fluidity and plenty of time travel, set in a spooky hotel, then you'll love Rob Hart's The Paradox Hotel . . . but if you like your mysteries to have a linear plot, then this book . . . maybe not.
Stacey and I have the same schtick when we begin Hamlet-- we both play the role of Horatio, who-- in the opening moments of the play-- is skeptical of ghosts and the supernatural . . . Marcellus explains, "Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him" and Horatio, in reference to the apparition, confidently asserts "tush, tush, 'twill not appear" but, moments after he says this, the ghost of Old Hamlet DOES appear and, after some good natured "I told you so!" by Barnardo (How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale.Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on't?) Horatio admits that "Before my God, I might not this believe without the sensible and true avouch of mine own eyes" and just before the apparition enters, Stacey and I always ask the class if they believe in ghosts, then chastise the believers for their irrationality and then we try to summon the dead, call upon the spirit world to strike us dead and stop our hearts, etc . . . and there are usually a few kids who get upset by this-- who don't think we should fuck around with the netherworld, whether we believe in it or not-- but we've never been haunted or struck dead . . . until now-- apparently last week, the night after Stacey did her ghost bit, she was visited by a spirit in the night, a little girl in a green sweatshirt that hovered over her bed-- twice!-- and she woke her husband up but he didn't see her and now she wonders if there might be spirits walking the earth, and she wonders if she has summoned them . . . but of course, I think she was dreaming or saw a shadow or whatever, as I am a logical and rational man-of-logic who would never be perturbed by such rubbish.
Mother's Day did not start off so well this year-- Catherine's shoulder pain was so intense she couldn't sleep, despite various muscle relaxants, painkillers, and some wine-- so we went to the emergency room at Robert Wood Johnson this morning, and while Cat was in serious pain, the emergency room experience was as good as it gets-- everyone was super-kind and the procedures were fast and efficient, and she was able to get x-rays, a lidocaine patch, some kind of painkiller shot in her other arm, a prescription for anti-inflammatories and a diagnosis: calcific tendonitis, which is painful but better than a torn rotator cuff . . . and while i was picking up her prescription at the pharmacy, the pharmacist recognized me-- I taught him many years ago (he's 27 now) and he remembered the social experiment I did during Orwell's Shooting an Elephant," because he was my confidant in the ruse-- I kicked him out of class to demonstrate some elements of the narrative-- and he fondly remembered this, so that was a fun moment in an otherwise lousy day (but at least Lola is on the mend, and hopefully Cat will be better once she gets a steady does of naproxen in her system).
All Blue Seafood and Ramen House is now just called All Blue Chinese Cuisine and no longer has ramen-- it's now a Sichuan Place and the food is delicious (and very authentic, according to reviews) and it's BYOB and fairly cheap; they give you some cold spicy potato strings in vinegar to start and you order by checking boxes on a paper menu-- we had Dan Dan noodles and spicy potatoes and beef with scallions -- the beef was really good-- and some wontons in chili oil . . . we will bring the kids next time and order more stuff, but this is a good one to try, just out of town on Route 27.
