Keeping Score

The New York Times recently published this article about baseball scorekeeping using pencil and paper.  It expressed many of the (oddly) fond feelings I have for the 25+ softball scorebooks in my archives.  Although I did come to appreciate scorekeeping software for it's mathematical efficiency and record keeping capacities, I still believe the pencil and paper method creates its own story.  Judy also keeps score for her teams and has been seen using something with an on/off switch in that role--as well as a pencil and book.

This is a page from our 1992 scorebook.  You can see it's well worn and a little bit beat up.  It was near the end of the season (game 21 out of 23 and a state championship).  What I've always loved about these is that you can go back and be pretty clear on the game sequence. 

I can remember the day in 1981 when Ron came into the library and asked if I was doing anything that night.  He'd love to teach me to do the softball scorebook.  We played Blue Ridge in my very first game.  Ron taught me to use a green pencil for hits and red for errors.  This made it easy to find them quickly in the book.  I began a tradition of giving away the green pencil at the end of the season to the player with the most hits. The red pencil was awarded to the player with the most errors until it began to be politically incorrect even though it was done with good humor and affection.  Ron taught me to note balls and strikes because it would help to keep me paying attention to the game.  He was right about that but mostly I think it was because he never had any idea of the count from one second to the next.  I cannot tell you how many times I reminded him of the count on a batter.  He never retained it.  Ever.

This particular game was played in Dunkirk as part of the state championship series.  The other team arrived at this field not far from a sewer plant and they were GIANTS.  Jean Valvo came to the game and gave it her best effort to say the appropriate things.  One of the players went down with an injury and Jean was rummaging in her purse for ANYTHING that might be remotely helpful.  We only scored one run in this game but it was enough to win.  On the other side of the book, the Brocton players never got further than second base in this one hitter for our pitcher.And if you look, I think you can see their pitcher was no slouch; eight of our players struck out.

Anyhow, these scorebooks are like old friends.  I attached them to a clipboard, clutched at least 4 pencils and balanced a camera around my neck.  I regularly endured muscle soreness as a result holding tight to the clipboard at the odd angle required to accommodate the physics of scorekeeping.  On at least one occasion, the old scorebooks won over a recalcitrant student who's mother was one of our best hitters.  I dug out the scorebook and used it to help make whatever the point of the lesson was and he was recalcitrant no more.

In the articel, on mand (about my age) noted that "keeping score by hand 'helps fuel my anal retentiveness.'"  Yes--what he said. 

Some experimentation to share with you

Despite the rotten week we've had, we did have a good time for the few hours that we were in the Tampa area with Kathleen and Nick last week.  We flew out on July 4th and the airports were VERY crowded--this surprised me.  But we got to their house in plenty of time to relax in their pool, have some drinks and await the evening's fireworks.  A powerful storm rolled through--they have been getting nearly as much rain as we have had lately--and the power went out for a bit.  We were worried there wouldn't be fireworks due to the weather.

Boy, were there fireworks!  They live right on a little Tampa Bay inlet so they are directly on the water.  Across the water is Sylvester Stallone's house.  Just above his house is where their fireworks go off.  That was the show we were waiting for, but all along the water's edge for about 270 degrees, there were fireworks going off.  These weren't little bottle rocket fireworks.  These were the real deal.  I've never been so close to so many fireworks!

One of my main objective on this trip was to experiment with some of the new photo techniques I've been learning and get some decent fireworks pictures.  I think I did OK for the first time especially considering that it was sprinkling and there were explosions going off on all sides.




There were almost 100 of these, but I pared it down to some of my favorites.  The house lights you can see in some of them are Sylvester's I guess.   Didn't realize my camera was peeping quite so much!  Enjoy. 

Wait! ...What? Sigh. Shake Head

Ron's memorial is tonight.  You've heard by now that our friend Ron died last week as the result of a tractor accident.  We were in Tampa visiting Nick and Kathleen and were pretty helpless to be of any use but Paula stepped in to give us a big assist for which we are very grateful. 

I don't know how to accurately describe Ron's role in our lives but the fact that  you each already know who he is speaks to the overall impact he's had on our lives.  His influence is infused in nearly every part and parcel of our daily life.  Losing that defies my ability to generate appropriate words.

Many of Ron's actions resulted in WWSS: Wait!...What?....sigh...shake head.  Some of his actions had us laughing and others could be irritating.  That's life in close proximity.  As Amy stated, it never would even throw her off to awaken in the morning to find him seated at our kitchen table having coffee.  Even if we weren't there.  Especially if we weren't there.  Our guests would have to come to terms with this other adult having complete access to our home at nearly any time of day--though most regularly about 30 minutes after he'd had his breakfast at the diner.  Then he'd make his most reliable rest stop on the way to his house...our downstairs bathroom.  Wait!  What?  Sigh.  Shake head.

One day I came home from work to find his backhoe in my yard.  He'd removed our old oil tank (yeah) and then decided we needed a garden in its place.  So he proceeded to create a garden.  And hand me the bill.  Always something discounted from Lowe's.  Wait! What?  Sigh.  Shake head.

Another time Amy tested positive for strep and was required to stay home for 2 days.  Ron was recovering from surgery and offered to stay at the house with her so I could go to work.  I accepted gratefully.  When I got home, I discovered he'd washed my kitchen floor.  Wait!  What?  Sigh.  Shake head.

Just a few days ago, he left a broken tombstone at my house.  Wait!  What?  Sigh.  Shake head.  Less said about that, the better.

And literally hundreds of similar moments filled the years since I met him 34 years ago.  It's a huge loss.  It feels like something really big came to an abrupt halt.  A way of life.  A certain work ethic.  A particular kind of community living.  My own work life.  Damn him.

 Olympics Summer party 1996

 Outer Banks 1996

 Puerto Rico 1998

 Long Island

 2001

June 15 2013 at Mudville

Reminiscing about Silver Creek

Some of you might be following the Silver Creek and Beyond group on Facebook so perhaps you've seen many of these already.  I was having so much fun with it that I thought I'd put the ones together that have special memories for me and see what comes up for you.

 The bank on the corner.  The bank lobby seemed very imposing to me.  

Dr. Vona's office was upstairs in this building.

 In a previous life, I think this was The Royal--it looks exactly the same as I remember it.  Dad would take us in once in a while and we could have ginger ale and dance to the juke box.  It was at the bottom of Oak Hill.  See below

 Though I do not recollect this specific house and sign, I clearly remember the Bentges warehouse and family name.

 Self explanatory!!!!!

 Main Street in Forestville.  I don't have many real clear memories of Forestville except Dr. Raag's office was there (right?).  We would sometimes ride our bikes to Forestville on a Saturday.

 The High Bridge on Dennison Road

 The Main Street School--I believe it contained grades 3-6 and was one street over from the elementary.

 Weenie loved Roof's. I think maybe in our time, that front area was all glass.

 This is what I remember the high school looking like.

 Had to include this.  What a treat for Mom to have a dairy right next door.

 I can almost remember the inside of this just a little bit.

 

Mt. Carmel from a different angle.

 ACME was kind of across from Mt. Carmel.  Mom would go here too once in a while.

 Ludeman's where we'd get our Easter finery.  

I remember baby chicks and/or rabbits under glass in the floor

This must have been the precursor to the Hole-Parker Funeral Home.  Weenie always laughed and laughed at that.  I didn't get it for several years.  Now I can't believe they allowed that for their business name.

So, now if Judy is still paying attention, I wanted her to feel part of this walk down memory lane:

You can see Roof's behind her.  This is on the corner kitty corner from the bank.  The park and gazebo would be to Judy's left.  Circa 1970.  Enjoy.

PS:  Here's a very short clip from YouTube of the Silver Creek footbridge:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IW4hSFpg1zM

View from the other side

Wow.  Long time between posts.  My life has been a bit tumultuous these last few weeks and the blog was a victim.  I'm hoping to regain my normal schedule now that I'm officially retired!  Friday June 21 was my last day of work and when I woke up on Saturday June 22, it truly felt like a whole new world.  It's hard to describe but it's like stepping over an abyss knowing you won't go back again.  And it's A-OK.  If you're a parent, you remember that people told you there wasn't a good way to describe how it would change you.  It's like that.  Without spit-up.

When I was reflecting on this phenomenon for the purpose of writing this post, it occurred to me that it's like the Nik Wallenda walk across the Grand Canyon.  Highly publicized, lots of people watching and tracking, a balancing act.  But he made it even though the winds were buffeting him a bit more than he expected.  Yes, there were time the wind was blowing and it seemed a long way to the end of the line, but once you step onto the other side it's wonderfully freeing. 

Thank you all for your good wishes.  Kathy, Paula and Ryan were able to attend the party with Jim and I last week and it was EPIC. I was well and truly roasted using the ReadAloud as the theme.  This is an example of one of the table decorations

This shows "Old Paint"--it's a wooden book truck that was in the library when I started way back in the last century.  One of the English teachers would ride him like a horse and called him Old Paint.  He's badly in need of varnishing and touch up but I like his character just the way he was.  He's used every year to hold the diplomas as graduation so I wasn't able to ride him out of the school on the last day as I wanted to because he was already laden with diplomas.  It's probably the only thing left in that library older than my time there.  And I expect he's being reconditioned this very minute.  Poor thing. 

But I feel as though I'm being reconditioned every day as I consider taking a nap--checking the clock to see if it's too late for a nap--then realizing IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT TIME IT IS.  Or when I'm thinking about dinner and realizing: yes, I do have time to prepare that.  Or when I'm grocery shopping and don't have to buy things that can go easily into a lunch box.  You get the idea.  It's the little changes so far that have seemed so very sweet to me this week.  My first week on the other side. 

Brothers and Sisters.

Brothers and sisters.  I've been thinking about them (you) and thought you might enjoy seeing some variations on that theme:

 Thanksgiving 2010

 The Flynn boys (Francis, John and Charles "Dinty")with Mom and Aunt (Anna)

 Chris and I in Gloucester.  I think that's Nanny and Grampie's house behind us a little to the left.

 I see Breyen in there!

 I've always loved this one

 Epic night in Florida one year for Judy's birthday.  Judy's still in her chair for this shot (picture kind of shot)

 Three sisters

 Three brothers

 Unity on Dennison Road

 Three sisters a few years later

 Three other sisters.  This one is kind of scary.

 LOVE LOVE LOVE this one.  Absolute classic.

 Dad and Peter 1940. Snazzy cap there, Dad!

 Flynn sisters--Uncle 4-5's daughters

 The Lippman sisters:  Grammy Flynn and Anna Denning --the other Germans in the family

Nevins kids.  Looks just like our pictures.

It's a special bond and deserves some recognition.  Cheers to mine!

Nostalgia

I took a quick trip out to Erie yesterday to see Amy.  Initially the trip was taking up some time in an empty weekend that Jim was away and Ryan was spending at work.  But it quickly turned very nostalgic for me, something I wasn't expecting and didn't really nourish--the feeling just kept overcoming my more practical side. 

On the way out, I decided to stop at St. Bonaventure to see Nanny and Weenie along with some of the other Flynns and Nevins.  It's been a while since I stopped by and it just felt right.  When I pulled into the cemetery, there were so many cars lined up I thought there was a funeral.  But then I was quickly reminded that it was Memorial Day weekend.  The dozens and dozens of little flags were patiently being planted by volunteers in the cemetery in honor of our military history.  I'd kind of forgotten that those flags have to be planted by someone and I'm very grateful to those volunteers for doing so.  I found Nanny and Weenie, cleared the dried cut grass off their marker and had a little moment with them.  I choked up and it took me by great surprise since I'd prepared myself to stop by but those emotions snuck up on me as I was brushing grass aside.  I still miss them.

It was lunchtime so I decided to have lunch in the area.  I ended up at the Burton Hotel in Allegany--the building is on the corner and the exterior still has that dated look.  They should use it for a movie exterior, it's so perfect.  I remember that Dad worked there back in the day and I imagine many misspent hours disappeared within.  It's a small room that you step into and the bar is within arm's reach of the door.  There's a larger room behind this front room and the kitchen is straight back.  I mention this because the new owners told me the interior hasn't changed much over the years.  The bar is the same bar Dad worked at. 
I tried to chat up the owner but they weren't too interested in sharing the history of the place with me.  It was about 12:30 and there was one older guy already at the bar when I got there.  I sat at the bar and had a hamburger--very yummy on this limited menu. 

You can see some of the Art Deco kind of style behind the bar:

They have those little bar glasses I always associate with "the good ole days".  I think this is a particularly pretty piece and wonder if she saw Mom or Dad--I even think I remember Weenie talking about this place.

Off I went to Erie to have some precious one-on-one time with Amy.  It's been a very long time since we've had that opportunity.  Princess likes to sleep in on Sundays (can you imagine such a thing?)  so I had some time to kill.  I decided to take a little road trip westward on Route 5---the same Route 5 we used along Lake Erie.  I was seeking Erie Bluff State Park (sounds intriguing, right?  Don't bother) but found beautiful reminders of our childhood:

 That's Lake Erie in the background.  I find I really miss the sight of vineyards.

 
While it is a fairly flat landscape near the Lake, I did take note of the rolling hills in the Olean area.  Made me wonder how Dad adjusted to this new geography when he came to St. Bonaventure from Gloucester.  Landlocked and hilly.  Refined, not rough and tumble like Gloucester.  I still wonder what led him to even think about St. Bonaventure for college, don't you?  Perhaps because it was exactly opposite--like so many high school grads go for?

Each and every cemetery was busy with activity meant to honor our soldiers.  The most moving thing I saw in one of them was an older man on one knee in front of a grave.  My imagination made up a story that he was missing his father, uncle, son or daughter soldier--he looked very pensive.  It seemed a very private moment and I felt like an intruder.

So many flags--so many volunteers--so many soldiers and sailors!  It was hard not to be moved by it all.

Couldn't leave town without seeing Lake Erie herself.  What memories!  Amy talks about how dirty it can be and I cannot begin to explain to her the difference 50 (!) years has made.

All of these stops put together plus the time with Amy made it an emotional 24 hours that took me by surprise.  But it was very satisfying and I hope the same for your weekend plans, whatever they are.