My son Ian, a senior, and Ethan-- an athletic and skilled sophomore, played their challenge match today for the first singles position and it wasn't pretty; Ian had two fingers taped on his left hand from a basketball injury and couldn't hit his patented two-handed backhand and Ethan suffered from calf cramps; Ian won the first set 6-1, Ethan won the second set 6-3 and then Ian won the third set 6-4 . . . Ethan showed that he's incredibly fast and can get to almost anything, Ian hit some decent first serves, but it was mainly a war of attrition and I'd kind of like to see them play again when they are both perfectly healthy.
Almost Fucking There
The Rutgers Expos team is slogging its way toward Spring Break but there's a bunch of essays, an Excel Spreadsheet, numerous college credit forms, and a bizarre final exam (called the FIE) in our way . . . I didn't realize there were so many obstacles in my way until Stacey called them to my attention Monday morning-- but we are diligently working through them (and I guess this happens every year but I conveniently forget about all this bullshit) and once this stuff is done and we make it to Spring Break, we will be in the final stretch . . . the fourth quarter!
March Showers Are Fucking Cold
The weather apps did not concur-- my students, with their newfangled iPhones, said their Apple weather app predicted 90% rain, but my much derided Weather Underground app said it wouldn't rain until 5 PM-- and the Weather Gods went with the Weather Underground (so we got 90 minutes of tennis practice in before we got wet).
Life is Scarier Than Death
It's easier to fight a deranged possessed puppet than it is to be an executrix . . . or at least that's my argument in this week's episode of We Defy Augury.
One-on-one Doubles
My high school tennis team is going to play one-on-one doubles every day at practice-- they can't do it well yet, but they have improved-- it's a great game to practice serving net play, agility, and fitness (and I can hang in with the better players because I can serve and volley and I don't need to cover so much court).
gecs!
I am still obsessed with the album 10000 gecs . . . I'm sure I'll get sick of it, but I'm listening to this album the way I listened to Paul's Boutique, The Pod, OK Computer, and The Soft Bulletin (among others) and it definitely scratches my brain.
Chat GPT is a Prude
I haven't played with Chat GPT in a while, but it rained today-- resulting in no tennis practice-- so I got to screwing around and I asked it a question inspired by a Beatles lyric and this is the pablum I got . . .
Yes, "Why don't we do it in the road?" is commonly interpreted as an invitation for sexual activity. However, engaging in sexual activity in public, especially on a road, is illegal and can be dangerous for a number of reasons.
First and foremost, engaging in sexual activity in public can lead to criminal charges for indecent exposure, public lewdness, or other related offenses. Additionally, it can be unsafe as there is an increased risk of being caught by law enforcement or pedestrians, as well as potential injury from passing vehicles.
In short, it is never advisable to engage in sexual activity in public, including on a road. It is important to prioritize personal safety and follow the laws and regulations set forth in one's community.
So Many gecs
If you liked this song, then you might like 100 gecs . . . if you need some context, listen to the new Switched on Pop . . . or go all the way . . . 1000 gecs . . . or even better: 10,000 gecs!
Longest Week of the Year
The long angry week: half days with no lunch, four fucking days of spring parent conferences-- unheard of anywhere except East Brunswick-- tennis practice, then back for conferences from 5 PM - 8 PM . . . and Route 18 is all fucked up on both sides so it's white-knuckle middle-finger-flipping chaos to get back and forth from tennis practice in Highland Park to the stupid night conferences . . . and I just got the Rutgers expos essays . . . I should have been a librarian or a hedge fund manager or grifter.
El Orfanato plus Being John Malkovich Equals?
If you're looking for a horror novel with serious puppetry, Being John Malkovich level marionette skills, then check out the new Grady Hendrix novel How to Sell a Haunted House . . . some of the scenes get a little long winded, but the book is very scary, very funny, and very Southern gothic (and once again, set in Charleston) AND there is an amazing bonus flashback set piece chapter set in Boston back when one of the main characters dropped out of college and joined a radical puppet collective with demonic and anarchic tendencies-- brilliant stuff . . . and Pupkin is a worthy villain and the book has a satisfying (and fairly logical, considering the subject matter) resolution . . . Grady Hendrix is a national treasure.
Wild Times
I was going to run over to T.J. Maxx today and buy some athletic socks, but instead I ordered them on Amazon.
Thus Endeth the Streak
I played pickle ball today and tennis Thursday and Friday, and I did not fall down on any of those days . . . good times.
NCAA Weirdness Has Selected New Jersey
Rutgers doesn't make March Madness but Princeton and FDU move on . . . a New Jersey minor miracle (after a St. Peters major miracle last year).
Tennis: First Day!
Whirlwind day: reverse schedule because of testing; Cunningham had a mental breakdown because of the positioning of her horizontal oblique fetus, and the fact that she needs to buy a car, get married, do a million parent/teacher conferences, get married, plan all her classes, and grade all her stuff . . . all before the baby pops out (although if she gets chased by a fungus person, it will pop out faster than you can say "Ellie) and while I'd never wish a mental breakdown on someone, it did make me less stressed about our first tennis practice . . . things went well, I raced out of school, drove home, let the dog out, made some coffee, and made it to the courts on time-- we only had ten kids out today but that's not bad for the first day, expecting a few more; we focused on the forehand today and did two forehand games-- one where you CANNOT hit a winner-- you can only score by hitting deep topspin forehands, past the service line, until the other person screws up-- and you get TWO points if they hit the net; the other where the server only gets one serve and the returner gets THREE shots, including the return, to win the point-- so in one game you consistent heavy forehands, like Nadal, until you wear your opponent out-- in the other you try to hit forehand winners-- very fun (and I got to play and absolutely crushed it . . . although I didn't play Ian or Ethan, who will be one and two) and then I got home fro tennis and Catherine was at the chiropracter so I got right to work on dinner and made some delicious homemade meatballs (with the help of Hello Fresh) and she was very appreciative-- and now all I need is Auburn to win and I'll be in good shape.
What The Kids Are Up To . . .
On our ride home from the Catskills, my son Alex gave me the lowdown on college-- apparently fraternity hazing still happens, as does the use of various narcotics-- he also told me that college kids are very protective about their TikTok For You page . . . apparently by college the TikTok algorithm is so precise and addictive that letting anyone else scroll on your For You page would reveal all your secret peccadilloes and personality quirks-- I checked with my high school kids and the were not as defensive in regards to their personalized TikTok feeds . . . some kids said they wouldn't want people to see it (one girl said her feed is mainly "random teenagers crying") but other kids said they would be fine sharing-- so maybe it takes a few years for the algorithm to really pinpoint your personality-- who knows-- but Alex took all the social media off his phone so he could focus on school: he's been waking up early; studying a lot; and playing loads of intramural basketball . . . I also learned that he did NOT watch two shows that my students were into when they were young: Victorius and Jane the Virgin-- neither of my kids watch them, nor did they watch Grey's Anatomy, another show that is a favorite with my current students . . . and THAT is what the kids are up to.
Mark Leyner vs. The Internet
Take a trip back to the '90s in my new episode of We Defy Augury . . . the internet didn't quite work yet, but the movies were awesome.
Back to Belleayre (But Better)
Last spring, Alex and I took a trip to Belleayre Mountain to do some snowboarding in celebration of his acceptance to the Rutgers Engineering Program but the weather was weird-- rainy then balmy then frigid and icy-- so we did more hiking and eating in Phoenicia than snowboarding but this trip was far more fun . . . we were luck to get ANY snowboarding in this year because the winter was so lousy for snow so my son was very happy that things worked out-- he's on Spring Break and tennis season isn't ready to start yet because of the weather; anyway, we drove up to Kingston on Saturday night, ate some cheap pizza and crashed at the Best Western-- we had to have our room moved because
1) our window claustrophobically faced an indoor arcade/pool courtyard and all the kids were screaming;
2) the people in the room next door were chain-smoking cigarettes and it was seeping through the door-- we ratted them out and the management put us in a very quiet room with a window facing the river;
Sunday was sunny and beautiful on the mountain and there was still fresh snow from the last storm and it really didn't get that crowded until after lunch-- we put in a long day and my feet and calves hurt-- first time using those muscles this season-- and then we drove down to Phoenicia, wandered around some, and ate at Brio's Pizzeria, which is highly recommended for incredible pizza (with sesame seeds ont he crust!) and beer and pulled pork burritos and everything else-- we watched some college basketball and then headed to the Starlite Motel to crash-- but first we learned that Rutgers would NOT be making the Bog Dance-- very sad but they didn't have enough out of conference wins and crumbled down the stretch in the Big 10-- this morning, we woke up to a wonderful surprise-- it snowed a bunch on the mountain, so we got to ride some fresh powder . . . so we ate our leftover pizza and headed to the mountain and the place was empty-- a great trip (aside from when I slipped and fell on some ice while getting on a lift and nearly got decapitated by the chair-- but I was able to pop back up and the lift attendant slowed the chair down enough so that I could hop on without injury or mishap) but the ride home was ugly-- the snow turned to rain and I'll actually have to deal with the stupid time change tomorrow.
My Boss is the Best
Yesterday, I had leftover tilapia for lunch and I needed some gum before I went back to class and breathed on the students and even though my boss was on the phone when I barged into her office, she fished some gum out of her purse and gave it to me (she said she went into multi-tasking mode, like she does when dealing with her two pre-school age children).
Cold Times in Laramie
If you're looking for a grim, bloody, disturbing podcast that investigates the unreliability of memory and the possibility that all first-person accounts are distorted and tainted-- a podcast that will make you question your own memory of the life you thought you knew, then check out the newest Serial production: The Coldest Case in Laramie . . . but it's a fucking bleak story set in a bleak place and I've listened to seven of the eight episodes and I doubt there will be a satisfying resoution.
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