Life of Wry

Just so you know, and for the record, the sweet Davis High School varsity baseball team had a barn-burning, fan-rousing game to open its playoff season–excitingly at home. It was a bit of a see-saw battle, having gone down 0-3 in the first inning and having needed to do a little clawing to catch up, which it did, with a run here and another couple there in the later innings to tie things up, and then in the bottom of the seventh managed to load the bases and set things up nicely for Q, who was presented with a nice, right-down-the-middle (they call it fat) fast ball that he drove into left-center for an RBI single, enough to win the game. The poor Rocklin pitcher.. had to pitch to him–meaning had to go down the middle–because he sure didn’t want to walk in the winning run (walk-off walks are so mortifying). So Q got a good one to hit and did his job: blasted it into the outfield to get the run in. Next, the dugout cleared; the boys stormed the base runners on the field, especially Q, and looked like a whole bunch of blue jumping beans. Which was pretty cute.

One see and one saw. But we saw’d at the right time to stay alive and see a second playoff round. Scheduled for Thursday at Sac City College, it’s another win-or-go-home game.

Fingers crossed.

Continuing the theme of weekend mellow, Mother’s Day was largely spent lounging poolside.

In keeping with loose tradition, Matt and Michael hosted. Mostly what we did was this:

Foreground, Jim and I under the cabana thingie, and over there: mom and Matt playing gin rummy, Michael with feet up on table. Chris is in the house snoozing.  On the perfectly audible sound system: a whole bunch of 60s and 70s rock.

Here’s a close up of the cabana scene:

Heaven.

These guys are running around amusing everyone. Nearly everyone.

Let’s see if I can name them… Joey and Klondike in back, little Sophie in front. Little Sophie is really tiny:

Is she adorable or what?

Here’s Matty and Klondike. He loves these dogs, but they are totally Michael’s idea and it’s all he can do to limit the acquisitions:

John and a 7+ months pregnant Alexis dropped by for a while… she celebrating her first Mother’s Day (it counts!). They are so wonderful and will make very good and interesting parents. Can’t wait.

And just a nice pic of Michael, Alexis and Matty:

Matt made a really great dinner of stuffed chicken (with prosciutto, cheese, spinach), basmati and baked squash:

And this for dessert:

(…a tribute to yesterday’s birthday.)

All nice. As usual.

For those counting, we’re up to 86.

Holy moly.

Not to sound anything but totally delighted and grateful, but it’s a little surprising. My mom keeps beating the odds. It’s probably because the odds makers never seem to take into account her cast-iron constitution and stubborn feistiness. She has never, ever done anything according to anyone’s expectations.

Ever.

She is, and has always been, Ms. I Do Things My Way.

If you’re a newish reader, or perhaps missed an entry or two, this one tells a little of her story:

The birthday day was mellow.. mom and I enjoyed a marathon of gin rummy (most games of which she won) and Jim enjoyed some marathon napping. Then, Matt, Michael and Chris joined Jim, me and mom for dinner at a new place, Lou’s on the Hill.

Quote:

Lou’s finely-tuned 21st century vibe reverberates in a syncopated rhythm of vibrant colors and rich textures, warm woods, sensual fabrics, artful tile accents, and bespoke design details that entertain the eye and imagination.

Unquote. And sic.

Interesting enough–they have a few kinks to work out–and Lou himself took pretty good care of us (especially after the snafu with the elevator designed to deliver mobility-impaired patrons from street level to the second-story restaurant.. ahem).

Some things were exceptional (my salad, for example) and some were not (my pasta was inedible–sticky, clumped, cool and completely devoid of any flavor, the kind of effort you’d expect from a junior high cooking class learning the do’s and don’ts of pasta making).

But it was still a lovely evening.

Here’s my artsy fartsy of Matt and Chris, across the table, through my empty wine glass:

Here’s another, because I guess when the wine runs out, you have to find other things to amuse… or more likely, after a glass of wine (and a martini before that), you start to think that you’re some fancy schmancy session photographer who can do anything with an iPhone and that Digital Camera World is just waiting for your next masterpiece.

I took more of these than I care to fess up to. It was quite the photo shoot.

We were treated to some wonderful house desserts (best doughnuts I’ve ever eaten) and then we came home to presents… Mom with magnifying glass to read the cards. Cute, no?

She opened:

– Jay’s unique box of Thai treasures (nobody has a greater gift gift than Jay)

– Matt’s and Mike’s lovely, totally-mom, sassy grey knit sweater 

– My, Jim’s, Peter’s, Chris’ very risky CD player and two CD books for Mom’s listening pleasure (Mom is hostily, stubbornly tech averse). 

Jury’s out on that last one.

Next up: Mother’s Day.

Flying to LAX from SMF has become a robotic affair. There are dozens of components to this particular trip…

booking the flight

packing

getting to the airport

checking in

checking luggage

security

getting to the gate

Etc, etc, etc… and after about maybe 100 flights to LA in my 37 years of living here, I’ve kind of got it down (there have been a lot more trips between Davis and PV, but often I drive).

I enjoy things like flying for the same reason I enjoyed waitressing… it’s a challenge to manage and achieve mastery over all the many parts. Yes, mastery. (Think Up in the Air with George Clooney.)

But just because I’m an ace at this stuff, doesn’t mean it always goes smoothly.

There’s the free airport wi-fi that I struggle with every time:

I never did manage to get online at the Sac airport this time.

I hate that.

And there’s the luggage that sometimes doesn’t come…

… though eventually, it did.

And in the end, flying to LA nets you about two hours over driving, if all goes smoothly. Seriously.. about two hours.

Still…it’s flying.

Soccer games are hard to capture well with cell phones. Unless the action is right in front of you, all you really get is a lot of grass and sky.

Here’s a typical distant-range shot….

At least tonight’s sky was pretty, even if I had to HDR it (whatever that means… maybe high definition resolution?)

Okay, looked it up:

HDR is a setting on the iPhone Camera app. The letters stand for High Dynamic Range. But what does that mean? It means that your camera will process photos slightly differently than normal in order to capture greater detail from bright and dark areas in your photo.

We got lucky and had some action right in front of us, so here is a closer-range shot:

It was exciting (a lot of players running at high speed toward a fast moving ball about ten feet away). I will say this, all that hard running back and forth made me really, really, really want to get up and run around. When was the last time you tore after something like that?

Damn this hip. Damn being 59.

Anyway, I have one more shot… this one at very close range… if for no other reason than it was nice to actually be able to focus on something:

In this case, my blanket-covered knees.

(The DHS varsity women won this game, too, this time by a score of 5-0. Very different than Tuesday’s game, this one very athletic. Very impressive.)

Don’t fall off your chair. I went to a soccer game today.

Outside of the one season when the five-year-old version of Peter played soccer for the inextinguishable Blue Flames–the first game of which he took a hard-kicked ball to the face–I have not seen a soccer game played in its entirety. Ever. As in never ever.

Once that Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad AYSO fall season was over (it wasn’t really that bad), that was it for soccer. By spring, Peter was whacking away at a ball mounted on a rubber tee. Baseball stole our hearts and none of us ever looked back.

But today… TODAY, the Davis High School varsity women’s soccer team had its first game of the postseason. These guys are pretty good–I believe they’re ranked #1 in the playoff tournament, and they have some crazy high national ranking. So the fans were out in force…and I was among them.

Here’s evidence:

To my left, and filling me in on absolutely every play, is Dianna, who also provided chairs and that fluffy blue blanket. Go Blue Devils! 

Dianna… she grew up in Davis, so knows everybody, and she’s a teacher at Holmes, so knows everybody else. It’s pretty hilarious to be at a sporting event with her, one that is crawling with students and parents. It’s definitely like sitting with a celeb.

To her left was practically the entire men’s letterman contingent… or at least a respectable percentage of the varsity baseball team (two of whom have little sisters who are stars on the soccer team and another couple of whom have girlfriends who play). And there were members of the cheer squad and some more guys, and some more gals.

I may have had a wee bit more interest in what was happening in the high octane group to the left, more so than what was going on in front of me, but couldn’t really look; that would have been weird.

So I watched these guys literally cream their opponents (Davis is in white):

Little blurry from zooming in, but this is Julia, sophomore star forward and little sister of Nate the varsity short stop. I’m not sure how many goals she had today, but it was a lot. Very impressive.

Here is one of them…

When the clock finally ran out, Davis had scored 14 goals to Edison’s 0.

Dianna tells me this is a highly unusual soccer score.  All those goals, all those open players, all those un-challeged passes… that never happens.

Glad I went. So exciting, distraction to the left of Dianna notwithstanding. I can see myself going again.

Took this picture a few days ago:

What you used to see across this particular span of sky were these, dangling and swaying in the breeze…

The City has now completed its task of placing underground all the utility lines along the stretch of Third Street between A and B Streets.

I know I have a few pictures of the hanging shoes, taken over the years, but for the life of me, I cannot find them in my crazy, extensive archive (which now totals 50,230 photos). So, I am posting one that Dave Webb–my iPhone photographer hero/mentor–took a few weeks ago…

… and I strongly encourage you to check out his Facebook page or his website for more fabulous iPhone pictures.

Anyway… buh bye shoes.

It is a tradition at Davis High School to honor its departing seniors. I don’t know what they do in other campus communities, but on the baseball team they have a little pre-game ceremony at the team’s last home stand.

Good for a few shots, huh?

First, there’s a procession of seniors, accompanied by their families, or subsets thereof. The announcer shares with the crowd things like that player’s favorite memory of his years on the baseball team (Kris said his most memorable moment was when Coach Ariola kissed the top of his head following their win in the section championship game last year… which is either really sweet, or funny, or something else entirely, but it made for a great visual!), and where that player is going to college.

After all boys’ names were read and pictures taken with the coach, they and their familiies joined the underclassmen on the third base line for the National Anthem.

Touching.

Each of the boys gave flowers to their moms, too. Tradition, you know.

I’m not all worked up because we have one more year to go, but for those ending their high school baseball careers–and for many, their entire baseball careers–it’s bittersweet.

Another nice touch this year was presenting the graduating members of the Advanced Treble Choir with a rose of thanks. These are the young women who sing the National Anthem at each of our home games, which is beautiful and classy.

And look who’s handling rose-giving duties!  Danny, Ray and Peter:

Peter is a natural flower giver, it appears:

We ended up losing the game to Pleasant Grove, 4-2, ending what had been a five game winning streak. But we’ll still be advancing to the playoffs, so everyone’s happy.

Following the game, we also had a barbeque picnic dinner out in right field. The Gnos clan brought their smoker and served up tri-tip. Everybody else brought salads (a Thai noodle here) and homemade rolls (Linda’s were exceptional) and fruit and desserts (Korlyn’s homemade cream puffs are sort of legendary).. some players brought girlfriends.  It was a beautiful gathering under the setting sun…

A lovely and supportive community.

Heh, heh…look at these guys having a nice brunch out together on a lovely spring morning in downtown Davis…

(Shot through a window, that’s why the one guy looks a little reflectiony.)

It’s become a cliche–young people on their devices, not talking to one another. Even when sitting together. At the same table. Face-to-face.

Jim and I should talk… just prior to snapping this pic, I was reading an article on my phone because there wasn’t enough room at the table to spread the newspaper out. A matter of convenience. And Jim was texting Peter about bringing home an omelet. Often Jim and I will pull out our devices–one or the other of us, or both of us–to look something up or check in with the boy. Whatever.

It still looks goofy as hell when the youngers do it. Because they’re asocial and married to their phones. Nyah nyah.

I am not calling the kettle black here.

Dinner:

Mulvaney’s on 19th in an old firehouse. “Hand-crafted, new American cuisine,” is a bit precious, but I liked what I saw and most of what I ate.

They personalize the menu, which is kind of interesting:

There were four seats at a large wooden counter that looked right into a prep area; we had two of them. I found that worthwhile, Jim found it distracting, but they also have regular seating indoors and out.

The excellent parts: bread; cheese plate (that included a rhubarb compote and a pappadum-like cracker); salad (with fat, chewy cubes of warm, salty bacon; yellow beets; red onion; and a great Shaft blue cheese dressing); the syrah I had; and the complimentary chocolates for Jim’s birthday:

The only-okay parts: Jim’s stuffed quail (I liked what was stuffed inside.. some greens and maybe that bacon again) which seemed nicely prepared, served with fingerling potatoes, grilled onions and fennel, but was too hard to eat; and the bruschetta (ricotta, mint-pea pesto, pickled mushrooms and micro fennel).

Worth a return, says me.  Ambivalent, says Jim.

Play:

One-man-show on the smaller stage at the B Street Theater.

(I actually did not realize this photo was taken on the diagonal. How annoying. I’m not trying to be art-tay.)

Jim and I were more in agreement about this play than dinner–a wildly talented actor, an impressive performance (90 minutes of rapid-fire monologue), some very funny parts, but a shtick that went on too long. Jim and I may have different opinions about whether it was worth seeing this play, though. I’d say yes, he’d probably say no.

Oh, the play: Buyer and Cellar. Um, let’s see, it’s about a gay guy who gets a job working in the basement of Barbra Streisand’s Malibu home. She has designed and built a replica of a shopping mall in her basement; he is the only employee and she is the only customer.

That’s the story.

It could be a while before we venture into playland again.