Category Archives: Sports

Golf, Chivalry, Family, and Ducks

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I’ll pick this up where I left of with the last entry, around 0845. That’s the time Diane made it known that she was sure I was going to be late for my 0940 T time with Jimbo. I knew better, of course, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I just said, “Yes, dear,” and kissed her ‘bye. Her plan was to stay home and paint the hall, something she really enjoys … paint the hall.

I arrived with time to spare, and before Jim. Doug was also invited, and was prepared to play with us next Tuesday, but the day was changed due to the forecast of inclement weather on that day. But, he already had plans with his son today, so couldn’t go. That’s OK because there be other times.

Once Jim was there we got lined up for our T time, and were paired with a couple of young men, Mike and Scott. Jim went off first with a suitable drive, and I followed with a towering hit, all of 3 feet off the ground, and about 15 feet passed the end of the cliff that defines the 1st T box. So, it wasn’t a total bust because it rolled to the bottom of the hill, giving me the possibility of a decent 2nd shot.

Now, I’m not going to bore you with a play-by-play for the entire 18 holes because that would be totally boring. What I will tell you about it, however, is that today I learned that young people see me as old, potentially a bit feeble, and that most of them are really nice. Specifically, I’m speaking of Mike and Scott.

Scott went off the 1st T with a 3 iron, I think, not a driver, and he smacked it a long ways out there. Then Mike got up and gave us a preview of what we would see from him for the next 17 holes, except for the short holes. He drove the ball 300 yards, easy, bending it around the dog leg right like a pro. His short game was just as good. It was pretty amazing to watch both of them do what they do. They were having more fun than people are normally allowed.

Neither Jim nor I attempted to compare our games to theirs, but we did match them on a few hits. Jim more than me, but all of us had some pretty incredible putts. We even made some pretty incredible drives off the T, so all in all it was a good day of golf. On the front nine Jim and I were neck and neck, but he pulled away on the back nine. I ultimately won, however, because I got to hit the ball 118 times but Jim only hit it 96 times. We have no idea what Mike and Scott did, and don’t even think they were keeping score. It was one hole at a time for them and they bet on every one of them. The loser had to chug a beer. Yes, they got loud, but they were very considerate the entire time. It was obvious they were just letting off steam from a week of work.

On the back nine it became clear to me that Scott was looking after me, and was going out of his way to make sure I didn’t, say, fall in a ditch, or a creek. He was there to help dig my errant balls out of the brush and other places they landed where it was impossible to hit them. His actions reaffirmed my faith in young people and makes me think it would be OK for me to let them help when they wish. It’s just not something I’m used to because I’ve always been the one to do that. Both Jim and I are crowding 70, however, so maybe it’s OK to back off a little and accept help when offered. So, lesson learned.

Here we are having just too much fun for words … also, I win for most number of chins …

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Here’s Jim looking like a pro …

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… and here he is contemplating his T shot down to that green that’s right behind the big tree.

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He hit it over the tree and got a par. I hit it the right direction and it came down right smack in the middle of the big tree and I got something like an 8. No, a 6.

Shortly after I got home, Jack called to see if we were home. He wasn’t sure if we were still at the beach, or not so was checking. He wanted to come visit, which he and Wy are always welcome to do. He knows that, of course. He just didn’t want to make a trip and find out we weren’t home.

While waiting for them to arrive, I took all the base boards off the walls in the hall to make it easier for Diane to paint. I will, of course, help with the painting – I’m the “cut in” guy, using a brush around door frames and around the area where the wall meets the ceiling. For some odd reason, that’s something I can do pretty well. Me, who can’t normally get a screw driver into a screw slot without using two hands. Go figure …

I also watched the last quarter of the Ducks vs. Tennessee football game which ended 59-14, Oregon. They had 59 last week, also, their lowest score so far this season. It’s all early scoring, too, because the last half of their games are played by the 2nd and 3rd string. Pretty amazing. Fun to watch, too, with their fast forward playing style. They are #2 in the nation behind Alabama. We look forward to seeing how it all works out.

Now, for some Good/Bad news. While Jack and Wynette were here, Kathie R called to say hers and Mike’s October trip was going to be delayed until March. That’s the bad news. The good news is that Kathie is getting a brand, spanking new elbow which is going to terminate her constant pain. Though we were looking forward to seeing them in October, it will still be good to see them in March. She’ll have an awesome scar to share with us then. Incidentally, Kathie’s new elbow is from San Francisco and she and Mike have to go there to get it for her. Seems to me that Mike could just go get it and bring it back to Sacramento to have it installed. Seems like something that could be done in pretty much any    out-patient clinic. Maybe even a good horse doctor could do it. Might be cheaper, too, except I doubt insurance would cover it. Well, maybe it would, with Obamacare.

Now, the day is done. It’s half time for the Oregon St. vs. Utah game and I think I’ll go take a shower.

Before doing that, however, here’s a picture of the bagel I almost lost this morning …

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The Bathroom, and A Potentially Hairy Bagel

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Though it’s difficult for me, so early in the morning, the numbers will resolve if I just stare at them long enough … Yes! it’s 0645 and, as a friend recently told me, “I woke up this morning sucking air, so it’s going to be a good day.” I agree. I’m going golfing later.

But first, I need to catch up a little … so where to begin …

Thursday was two days ago so I’m just going to have to make something up for what happened that day. There’s nothing on my calendar, that Diane insists I keep current so I’ll know what I’m supposed to do next. She’s very adamant about that. I’m usually pretty good about doing that so, a few days down the road, I can look back and see what I did. It helps me separate fiction from fantasy. A little bit. Since Thursday is blank, that means I either really didn’t do anything, or I was on a secret mission to check up on the aliens I know who live in the old rock pit in Scappoose.

Or, I might have been working in The Bathroom with Daniel. I actually think that’s the one because I usually have some sort of residual memory of visiting the aliens. I’m not totally sure where they’re from but it must be a pretty progressive planet because they go through beer and cantaloupe like there’s no tomorrow. That’s another story. We’re working in The Bathroom.

Since I have no clear memory of the steps taken, I’ll just make stuff up based on the last results I saw regarding this project.

When Dahlgren’s opened, I paid them a visit to get the necessary supplies needed for finishing The Bathroom. Yes, for finishing The Bathroom. We’re that close. What I obtained was baseboards, wainscoting top rails, and shoe moulding. And glue. Well, it’s called ‘construction adhesive’ but it’s really glue.

I believe the goal for Thursday was to finish the project. Of course that didn’t happen. I know this is true because I was over there working again on it yesterday. So, on Thursday, we probably only got the baseboards in and a couple of walls of wainscoting before we simultaneously ran out of glue and pre-cut wainscoting. It was kind of interesting the way that worked out because we were absolutely positive we had plenty of both. Since we didn’t, we decided to call it a day and go, perhaps, take a nap, or something. Normally, when I’m not given clear directions, I simply rearrange things in the garage which gives me a sense of accomplishment even though it serves no purpose. It’s easy to do when Diane’s not here and her car is gone because it give me a lot more room to stack, and restack things. Then, when she returns she usually looks at her calendar and, not seeing anything scheduled for me, looks around and says with a bright smile, “Honey, you moved something! I’m so proud of you.”

She does that because I started doing something similar to her with regard to her hair. You know, when a woman gets her hair cut, no matter how little or how much, it’s imperative that her significant other immediately notice, and express how amazing removal of a few hairs can make such a difference. Being unaware of those rules, early in our marriage, I suffered a great deal because I didn’t notice many times in a row, over a rather long period of time. So, we had a discussion about it one day during which the rules were defined in great detail, in a manner that firmly implanted my need to ‘notice.’ It worked OK, for a while, then I discovered I’d missed a few alterations about which I was supposed to offer compliments, so I devised a new approach that never fails. In fact, it worked so well, that I was asked to stop doing it.

It’s simple … whenever Diane and I are apart for more than an hour, the first time I see her, no matter where it is, I looked at her in wide-eyed wonder and said, “you look amazing! Did you have something done with your hair?”

In the beginning her responses started out, “no, silly. I just went to the store.” That quickly devolved into, “OK, knock it off. You KNEW I just went to get the mail.” So, I was given permission to cease and desist. Oddly, however, whenever she got a haircut after that, I noticed. So, in a way, I trained myself to be a little more observant, I guess.

Friday morning it was overcast again, and almost looked like it might rain. You know, those summer thunder-storm type rains. Loud and wet. But, it didn’t, so Daniel and I were able to use the power tools outside to finish cutting the wainscoting pieces needed to cover The Bathroom walls. First, however, he met me out our house in order to get the old compressor Jack gave me, years and years ago, so we could use nail guns to help stick everything to the wall and floor. We stopped by ACE to get enough glue to finish the project.

The first thing we did was cut the top railing and the shoe moulding, and made them fit precisely in their assigned spots. It was very satisfying and exciting for both of us because these final actions were signaling the completion of the project. Seems like we’ve been working on this thing for months. No, years. We actually have been working on it for months.

So, with the exception of the need to paint the wainscoting, and reinstall the sinks, we’re done.

Yesterday evening ended with an exceptional meal of fresh salmon at the home of our Lion friends, Hank and Lynn, Kendra’s Mom & Dad. Hank is a District Representative with the Oregon Lions and a pretty darn good salmon cooker, too. So, he lured us all to his home with salmon in order to conduct a meeting, which was perfectly OK. Both Diane and I had a great time. We got to meet people from throughout our district and hear about some of the amazing things their respective clubs accomplish with just a few people.

Now it’s Saturday morning and a frightening thing just happened to me. I took a break from this in order to make a pot of coffee and toast a bagel, to ensure I am properly fortified for this morning’s game of golf. Jim always does 18 holes but my body is tuned to only 9, so it’s going to be a work out. As I was sitting back down on my half of the couch, two bagel halves balanced precariously on top of a paper towel in my left hand, I was almost completely settled when one of the halves slipped neatly to the floor. When it slipped, everything went into slow motion for me as I watched helplessly as it fell, then roll away from the couch gathering bits of dog and cat hair as I chanted the mantra I’ve developed for just this specific moment … “not on the cheese side, not on the cheese side, not on the cheese side.” And it worked! When it stopped, it remained in a vertical position for just a fraction of a second too long for comfort, then slowly fell over on the un-toasted side. The other side was smeared with cream cheese which, in turn, was covered with bacon bits that are normally used on salads and such. I warm then in the microwave for 15 seconds before applying them to the cream cheese. Not only does it look pretty, it’s pretty tasty. Sadly, when a bagel is adorned in this manner, any jarring movement, like falling to the floor, will dislodge the bacon bits allowing them to escape the grip of cream cheese and fall to the carpet as it rolls. Consequently, there was a brief contest between me and the dogs to see who could capture the most bacon bits before Diane found out. It wasn’t really a contest because I let the dogs win. It would take me too long to pick off the cat and dog dander for me to really enjoy the few that found themselves dislodged. Without bothering to look, I ate the fallen half without even looking at it. I figured if any hairs were long enough to notice, I could just floss them through my teeth. Turns out, there weren’t any, now I must go brush them.

I need to do that because my alarm just went off alerting me of the fact that I must prepare myself for 18 holes of golf. I do that by sitting in one of the dining room chairs, standing up, walking around behind the chair, taking a pretend golf club from the pretend golf club bag, and swinging it a few times before returning it and retaking my seat in the pretend golf cart. Since we’re doing 18 holes, I must do this a minimum of 123 times to emulate what is bound to happen on the golf course.

If I survive, I’ll let you know how it went.

College Football and Falling Gracefully

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Whether or not you follow college football, you need to know that the Ducks are pretty awesome. They won their game yesterday 66-3. I know, it was one of those warm up games, getting ready for league play, and it wasn’t the most scored by a team this weekend, but, still. That’s a whole mess of points. The most scored in a game was by Indiana who won their game 73-35. The Ducks also racked up 772 yards of total offense, a new school record, and enough to currently lead the nation in that category. It looks encouraging. The Oregon St. Beavers lost yesterday, but they still scored 46 points.

Now I must report a weekend accident and the lesson I learned because of it.

Let me set the stage for you … we have underground sprinklers that kinda work, enough to get the bushes around the house nice and wet, along with our front porch. Diane found a need to turn them on yesterday afternoon because she didn’t think the water bill was large enough. She’s given up on watering the yard, which has turned a nice khaki color, my favorite color. The only thing that grows in it are random dandelions. Not many, but enough to make it necessary to lop their tops off once in a while.

We have 4 sprinkler zones in the front that are layed out in an odd pattern … one zone has about six sprinklers on it and they all overlap a great deal, and one only has 2 sprinklers on it. The latter is the one that sprays the porch, and also sprays Diane’s side of the bed if she forgets to close the window on her side of the bedroom. This has been tested.

She only lets each zone run for about 10 minutes, then switches. After turning them off, she called me to the front porch to look at something but I can’t remember what it was because when I stepped onto the porch my feet slipped right out from beneath me, causing me to go airborne for a brief moment in time.

It’s really amazing how much data your brain can accumulate while you are in an unplanned free fall, no matter how short. For instance, as my feet slipped, I did a swift calculation as to about where I might land. I had to take into account that there are three cement steps in the landing zone, so I had to run through the calculations a couple of times to make sure they were correct. By the time I was done with that, I was about halfway down and I was looking up at the porch light. It reminded me that I need to switch that old thing out for the new one that’s laying on my table saw in the basement.

Knowing the steps were going to complicate things, I just decided to land on my elbows, mostly on the left one because it’s the worst one I have, anyway. Plus, I remember what happened to Jack’s wrist when he fell off a truck and tried to block descent with his hands. Yes, I didn’t fall nearly as far as he did, but it still crossed my mind.

About that time, my left elbow hit the top step about the time my rear end hit the third step, as planned, to distribute the impact a little better. Then, all of my parts slid the rest of the way off the steps allowing the back of my head to clang against the top step.

Then, all was still. Diane was standing right next to me the entire time and didn’t make one move to stop my fall. She just watched. Admittedly, however, it happened pretty quickly so she didn’t have time to think about it. She just said, “do I need to call 911?”

I layed there a bit, taking inventory of my previously moving parts, and discovered that I could feel pretty much everything except most of my left hand. That concerned me because I didn’t want a broken wrist like Jack. But, I hadn’t heard anything snap, and I could move my fingers without pain, so figured I dodged that bullet. Part of my hand is numb all the time anyway, so a little more wasn’t a big deal.

Though I didn’t lay there very long, it was long enough to actually get kind of comfortable. But, my head started to ache so thought I better move. Plus, Diane was still asking me if she should call 911. She didn’t take my pulse or anything. I guess I was blinking and breathing so she figured I was probably a good judge of whether or not I needed emergency treatment. I actually am pretty good at that and used to be on a first name basis with all the folks at Urgent Care here in town. Most of my severe injuries were accomplished while I was home alone thereby creating a need for me to either dial 911, or just drive myself to Urgent Care. The latter was always the easiest, and quickest, so that’s what I did.

Finally, figuring I wouldn’t know what didn’t work correctly until I tried to stand up, I sat up and jump to my feet. Yes, that’s what I did. I may have even say “Olay!” when I did it, but I’m not sure. I do know that on the way up I didn’t experience any debilitating pain, which pleased me, so told Diane, “No, we’re not going to the emergency room.” I wasn’t bleeding and nothing appeared to be broken, but I wasn’t really sure how hard I hit my head, so stayed awake for a few hours to make sure I didn’t fall asleep, while Diane went to bed to read.

Don’t get me wrong, she was concerned, but not as much as a normal wife might be. She’s used to me injuring myself in odd ways much worse than this simple little fall, but I am getting up in zone where falls like that can cause serious damage. Apparently I’m part of the ‘Lucky Group’, so far.

My elbow hurt a bit, but feeling was returning to my hand. Oddly, too, my right shoulder and arm weren’t hurting and they’ve been hurting for weeks. Maybe I fixed it, somehow.

So, “what’s the lesson?”

Don’t wear your worn out Crocs out on a slippery wet porch unless you’re going to take tiny little steps and walk flat-footed. I knew that’s what I was supposed to do because I’ve slipped on the garage floor before, but never fell down. There aren’t any steps in the garage though.

Today I figured I’d be black and blue, but that didn’t happen. Can’t even see marks where I landed. I felt cheated, somehow, by going through all of that and not coming out of it with even a little evidence that ‘something’ had happened.

Maybe tomorrow will be different. I’m going out with the Lion’s Club to plant flags around town tomorrow morning in honor of Labor Day, so I better get to bed.

Hope everyone had a good weekend. In a couple of days it’s back to school for the kids. They’re real happy about that.

Grout and Mascots

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The grout has been applied yesterday and I really thought we would get around to sealing it today, but turns out it needs to cure for 48 hours before sealing. So, that won’t happen until Tuesday or Wednesday. We can get the necessary baseboard molding and top rail for the wainscoting done then, too.

Tomorrow is out because Lydia is playing soccer in Milwaukie, her first high school soccer game. We’re all going, on the road at the mind-numbing hour of 8 am. On the way home the team is stopping for lunch at Fultano’s in Scappoose where they have the back room reserved so the girls can watch the Portland Thorns soccer team play their game. Daniel is a little bit concerned because the Oregon Ducks season opener is tomorrow afternoon, also. He’s hoping one of Fultano’s many TVs is tuned in to the Duck game. I plan to be watching it here, in the comfort of my own home. Unless, of course, Diane has something else she thinks I should do.

Speaking of the Ducks …  I think it’s pretty nifty that U of Oregon is the only college team to have a Disney character as their mascot. Walt Disney personally approved Oregon’s use of Donald Duck as their mascot in 1947 based on a handshake agreement between Disney and Oregon athletic director, Leo Harris. This is true. I looked it up.

Now, about all those offensive Native American names and logos used by Oregon high schools. I suspect they are also used by many other schools, high school or otherwise, but the Oregon controversy is more personal for me. The state has ordered all public Oregon schools to end the use of Native American names and mascots by 2017 or lose state funding. OK, I get it. Apparently Native Americans have been in an uproar for a long time because of the demeaning names, like Indians, Warriors, Braves, used by schools for their team names. So, it’s going to end. I believe this movement is nationwide, but I’m not sure. What I’m curious about is what the pro teams are going to do. Like the Washington Redskins, for instance. Or, the Atlanta Braves. Kinda makes me go “hmmmmm.” This is a bit personal to me because I went to Scappoose High School, home of the Scappoose Indians. I can honestly state that the entire time I attended high school, all seven years, I never once really associated our team name, or mascot, to Native Americans. It was a name. Perhaps, to satisfy the department of educations dictates, it should be the Scappoose East Indians. It was, after all, Columbus who tagged Native Americans with the Indian name because he thought he was, gee, in India.

I think all of the controversy could be resolved if we just eliminated animals and kinds of people as sources for team names. Instead schools can use only inanimate items, like Rocks, Bricks, Stones, Sticks, Pebbles, Branches, a disease, or any type of flower. The Scappoose Sunflowers has a nice sunny ring to it, doesn’t it? Or, perhaps, the Scappoose Salmonellas?

It gets worse, the more I think about it … like the Pittsburgh Pansies … had to say it. Or, the Denver Daisies, Georgia Gladioli, Ohio Oleander, California Calla Lillies … Sorry, but bet there are better ones running around in your heads right now. Care to share?

Time to quit and head for bed since I won’t be able to take my morning nap tomorrow.

I hope everyone has a safe Labor Day weekend.