And other Lessons in Humility…

It has been a dry year in my region of residence (Southwest US). Yesterday I was called by Santa Fe Zone (dispatch) about taking a Safety Officer position on wildland fires in Texas. But, I’m not available as the packing for a return trip to Petra has begun (see posts from March – early May). It has evolved into being a long process, as I started thinking about it month’s ago with the subsequent “check-lists” growing: cameras, treats (like microwave popcorn), and gifts (do you know how much a corkscrew can go for in Wadi Mousa… if you can find one?) Our Jordanian colleagues-n-friends from Petra, Tahani & Talal, are touring the Southwest US at present. Today is Friday so it must be Mesa Verde.

As I recall Meme’s & my last trip, a short one to Pacific Beach/San Diego for the post-Labor Day week, my most prolific memory is the 9+ hour power outage that started just as I finished some yoga positions. Meme’s brother Mark had just arrived to visit, I completed my yoga, and the electricity went away. Due to a possible cause & effect I refrained from doing yoga after that for over a week. Whenever I want a serving of humble pie all I need to do is walk onto a tennis court with racket in hand.

I love the game… but, it can be so… well, depressing… Unlike golf, that at its basics pits you against the course (features of nature designed into a cultural landscape), tennis has an opponent looking squarely at you saying “see what you can do with this.” Some days you can play well, the next time less-than-OK to the point where you wonder what happened to your game.

Humility is on my mind as I return to Petra. It is indeed a special place, and I am in awe of the people that make it what it is (and have for so long). In 131 B.C.E (aka A.D.) the Roman Emperor Hadrian (remember “The Wall” he had built in Briton?) unpretentiously renamed the city to: Petra Hadriana. “Pax Romana” had certainly arrived in the neighborhood, achieving what the earlier Greeks had been unable to do: physically take & control the city known as “Raqmu” (Aramaic for “the colorful”). The 1^st half of the new name survived, reminding us of another lesson of history: who knows what the future will bring, or how things will be chronicled. It is oft noted that the victors write what is passed to the future, but with a tweak here and revision there it seems the survivors are the authors of the ages. I believe Hadrian (and many "leaders") should have played some tennis. As-salaam Ahlaykum…

An Example of the Peter Principle?

We’re familiar with the principle: rising to one’s level of incompetence.

I prefer to think of “the cream rising”; however, tomorrow starts the Lobo Cup, a US Tennis Association Southwest Section Juniors Tournament in Albuquerque. Juniors from all over the country will be competing at the UNM Tennis Center, Albuquerque Academy, and Jerry Cline Tennis Center. National ranking points are to be earned.

  http://tennislink.usta.com/tournaments/TournamentHome/Tournament.aspx?T=105997 

With a big tip-of-the-Ranger-sombrero to Dorothy Delaine I was asked to pinch-hit as the Tournament Referee (TR), which is a promotion for me. I have learned a lot, and as much as it may seem sarcastic (who me?): I am grateful for the vote-of-confidence and opportunity. Of course when asked the entries stood at 5; it has now increased to 205. I’ve usually worked college and juniors events in chairs or as a rover. I’ve been the TR at simpler single-site tournaments, but now we’re going to be at 3-sites around town. At present, we are as ready as we’re going to be thanks to the efforts of: Bob Scott (Tournament Director - TD), Gui DuPont (Deputy TD), Nora Quintal (asst. TD), Betty Michael (Site Ref. Jerry Cline Tennis Center), Gail Long (Site Ref. Albuquerque Academy), and roving officials: Bill Long, Barbara Cochrane, Jean Pierre Barbarre, Roman Motnyk & Jerry Prohaska. If you know any of these people PLEASE thank them. Thank them for their efforts and patriotism (yes patriotism: we have a physical fitness challenge and issue in this country you know). Plus, when an umpire ends their roving shift it reminds me of zombies from “The Walking Dead.” It is hard work, done for the love-of-the-game. My/our thanks to ALL involved, and of course the players.

           I reflect this evening back to the last National Points Juniors Tournament that I worked in Albuquerque this July. It was hot (highs in upper 90’s), and as I walked in through the gate at a court a player projected with gusto his evacuation of bodily fluids from his stomach to my feet (twice). Usually I don’t invoke that reaction until someone knows me better. But, we took care of the player and the situation - paly continued and it was a successful tournament. With highs of 80 expected (and no rain forecast), it should be excellent tennis weather (and we don’t expect any expressions of umpiring competence like our July celebration).

           Let the games begin…  UPDATE on morning of 18 Sept: yesterday's rain & lightning delays made for really long days for all. THANKS AGAIN for your help amigos y amigas...

Jack and the Giant Slayers…

As a new school year comes quickly out-of-the-blocks I recall how fortunate I was to have been influenced by many inspirational people. Of course, that translates into stories amigo/a. I was far from being a good student in my formative years (BC: before college); in fact I was a poor student K-12. But, I always loved a good story (probably why I majored in History as an undergrad). I don’t know if losing a full GPA point when moving into the Burbank (CA) School District, then gaining it back when moving to Malibu/Santa Monica SD, and losing it again when returning to Burbank was a product of Burbank’s superior expectations or simply that I preferred the open space environs of other locales. Our kennel in Malibu was at

Pacific Coast Hwy & Puerco Canyon Rd.

overlooking the Pacific. In Burbank it was on

North Lima St.

, just off

San Fernando Road

, in an industrial area near Lockheed and a railroad line; far away there were probably large bombers and missiles with Red Stars on them practicing missions targeting this area. Like many classmates, I never did understand how getting under a wooden desk would help.

In retrospect it was a cool time, and a great place to be a young person. As I worked this past spring in Petra I remember a conversation with a Supervisory Park Ranger. He was Bedouin from Umm Sahyoun, and a retired Army Major with a Masters degree in IT Engineering. We were talking about the local schools and need for charter or magnet schools with extra-circular activities like sports, clubs, etc. as stay-in-school incentives vice working the tourist trade as a child vendor. That got me pondering some life experiences, and one of my favorites is the under-dog story of the Burbank High School (BHS) Bulldogs basketball team of 1965.

Burbank schools were not traditional powers in the primary team sports: baseball, basketball and football. We had a few exceptional individuals occasionally, but we primarily excelled in Cross Country and swimming (individual things that took a lot of determination and training to do well). During my senior year we had a good shoot-the-ball/hoops team led by Coach Jack Loutensock, but they weren’t expected to do much because of the talent at the other Foothill League schools. Note-on-skill-levels at that time in the Foothill League: during the 3-years I was at BHS, 7 football players went onto the NFL- none from BHS. In basketball, the league was equally gifted. The Southern California player of the year (Lynn Shackelford, 6’5”) was from Burbank, but he played for our cross-town rival John Burroughs HS. He was amazing to watch, and went onto being a starter on 3 Collegiate National Championship teams with Coach John Wooden at UCLA. Later he played in the NBA. Many of BHS’ rival teams in the league had 7’ players; some like Pasadena had several. I remember watching them warm up with player-after-player dunking-the-ball. The ’65 Bulldogs were relatively “vertically challenged,” with the tallest player (Dick Reitherman) at 6’4” and 170 lbs: not exactly a Grecian model of Olympus revisited. But, what these Bulldogs lacked in stature and girth they made up for with heart, determination, game smarts and grit. BHS educational standards were probably a pretty big asset too.

Not picked to do much by the  pre-season pundits (they went 9-3 in pre-season), the ‘65 Bulldogs were simply tenacious, beating Burroughs twice for the 1^st time in many years, and finished 10-2 in league play: Champions of the Foothill League. Jim Greenfield and John Gaball went on to play for Coach Jerry Tarkanian (“Tark the Shark”). The season provided adversity, drama and accomplishment over long-odds won by hard work and dedication to their mission: sounds like an inspirational story to me. I know there are themes of courage and humor too (one player wrote in my ‘64 year book what a good chemistry student I was: I was terrible to put it kindly). Looking at the BHS ’65 Varsity Basketball photo I think: “Thank You gentlemen… especially John Gaball, Jim Greenfield, Jerry Perkins, Glen Ceiley, Dean DeHart, Darryl Hove, and Dick Reitherman for showing that when motivated you can make-it-happen…”

FYI, my BHS ’65 yearbook (Ceralbus) has been in an alternative reality somewhere since ca. my return from Vietnam (’70). Thanks to Kirk “Kickin’-back” Harris (I spotted you there in-the-shade: color football/sports section photo, shortly after page 183) for lending me his yearbook for some of the photos. I also see again in the Senior Index that I’m credited with 3-years of participation with the Publicity Committee that I have zero memory of. Looking at the photo of this “August Assemblage” I must credit my listing to the antics of Merry Pranksterism by my ol’ amigos Dennis “Buck” Bandy and Jack Osborn: “Oh, you guys always made me chuckle…” Wouldn’t be surprised to find them and Reitherman on the editorial board of The Onion: http://www.theonion.com/