Grade School Full Circle

The Jones family visted Stanley Elementary open house tonight. We walked among the art projects and gold-star papers, talked with smiling teachers, now younger than me. I spied a familiar face in the midst of this bustling elementary complex. Jeff Paschal and I attended Roeland Park elementary school, Old Mission Junior High, and Shawnee Mission North during the same era. We discovered that we're nearly neighbors out here on the edge of the metroplex. He's a year older than me, but was a classmate during my second grade year when they split the class, half 2nd graders and half 3rd graders. I had not seen him since the 20th anniversay reunion of the North state championship baseball team five years ago. That was a fluke too. My boss invited me to an after work rocket sauce sampling at the same bar where the team gathered that night.

Back at Stanley elementary, we chatted and I mentioned that I bowl at Mission Bowl with another Roeland Park alum, Kurt Westhoff. It must be Jeff Paschal week. He told me he saw Kurt yesterday. I'll bet Reagan was President the last time he saw us both in the same week. Maybe I'll see him again soon. He was quite the Mission bowl junior bowler and we can always use another rock tosser.

Langston Hughes in Lawrence

I'd like to see more props for Langston Hughes in relation to his Lawrence, KS roots. So does Denise Low, Kansas' next poet laureate. Check this brief chat transcript from The Lawrence Journal-World.

Tonight at Mission Bowl - A fashion show

Tonight we bowled after a three week layoff. and split, no pun intended, our match with a team where a few of the bowlers wear loose-fitting pants. Sometimes these garments are akin to sweat pants, other nights they resemble pajama pants. It's not what I'd pick to roll the urethane rock. I am forced to wear my work slacks since I drive to the lanes directly from the office. These drawers are also not what I'd pick given a choice. I think Levis are good. Some guys like to wear shorts, even during the winter months. Most choices are driven by a desire for a free range of motion, but I believe the jammie pants are too relaxed for public interaction. I think I was influenced by the Seinfeld episode where Jerry chides George for wearing sweats in public, like he gave up on life.

The truth is that the bowling alley is no place for style. Wear whatever floats your bowling bag. My guidelines: cover all bellies and butt cracks. Anything else is lagniappe. This also applies to all waitresses at Applebees, Red Lobster, and/or the Outback Steakhouse. If God shaped you like the Michelin Man, low-rise jeans and bare midriff tops will not help increase tips. The exception is the Olive Garden. Let it all hang out and keep the bread sticks comin' baby! I'm the guy in the corner booth sporting cotton pajama pants and bowling shoes. Bon appetit and good scoring.

One week down in January

The first week of January flew past in a flash. I've been busy at work and I also finished my new short story (uh, not at work, but here at home). I polished it each evening, looked for adverbs to remove, and typos that needed fixing. I took out the almosts and justs and maybes. Now its done and I'm real happy with it. For awhile last year, I wasn't sure I'd ever get it finished.

I'm Excited

I finished writing a new short story last night. Now the rewriting begins as does 2007. I resolve to do more writing and rewriting in the coming year. I am grateful for my health and my family and for the three people who visit this web log. I raise a cup of kindness (AKA scotch) to you.

Remembering Christmas 1970

I found the Superbowl IV version of the Tudor electric vibrating football game under the tree in our Roeland Park home that year. It featured scale model footballers, each a bit smaller than a 25 cent piece, mounted individually on green plastic bases. The bottom of each base had small teeth that made the players move and groove without falling over when the metal field vibrated. Vibration was supplied by a small motor and controlled by the players with an on off switch. I couldn't wait to try it.

The mechanics of the game were somewhat ridiculous, because it was impossible to create and sustain a lasting simulation. I lined up the opposing teams and turned on the motor. They crashed into each other and occasionally a player vibrated in a straight line somewhere. I repeated until boredom set in. The game contained a felt football and a working kicker to attempt field goals and extra points. Note: The felt football did not travel far, even in ideal wind conditions. Despite these shortcomings it was a cool gift and I don't remember any thing else I received that year.

Before the Internet

...and wikipedia, there was K.U. Info. 864-3506.

Last Friday Night

Last Friday night we took the scout pack to the nursing home to sing Christmas carols. I wasn't enthusiastic at first but I was glad we went. We toured the facility and sang songs through the corridors. I got to see lots of people. Quite a few came out to watch us sing. I was impressed with some of the kids who said hello, introduced themselves, you know, took a moment for some personal contact.

One of the other dads in our group told me that one of the residents, a woman in her eighties, sprightly but confined to a wheelchair, told him that she used to fly fight planes for the marine corps during World War II. She didn't do combat flights of course, but flew Corsairs from the factory to airbases closer to the action. That's not a bad gig - and she was a gem.

I think people groan whenever you mention the true meaning or the spirit of Christmas. I know I do. So forget about it - and go visit a nursing home this holiday season. You won't regret it.

Keep Searching for the Words

My ideas don't materialize on demand. I want words and sentences to appear in a row, from start to finish, on ticker tape. I'm still waiting.

I get ideas when I'm far from the keyboard. I discovered a buried gun while motoring down the interstate once, triggered by Elmer Bernstein and a memory fragment.

Frank Mouris had too many ideas and found a way to show us. Hannah Weiner saw words everywhere and wrote them down in a series of journals.

Sonic Youth at The Outhouse

I missed more shows than I made during the 80's. Here's one I'm glad I saw: Sonic Youth at The Outhouse on November 5th, 1986. fIREHOSE opened the show. I think I've mentioned it on this web log before, but now there's a setlist and pictures posted!