Notes from the Red Bird House

There's good news and bad news in just about every piece of news. Today I discovered (after assuming for quite some time) that someone I like has a girlfriend. Confirmation, like news, can be both good and bad. Knowing is good. It extinguishes irrational hopefulness and leaves a thick residue of realistic resignation. Life is allowed to go on; it just happens to be a better informed life. Likewise, knowing is bad for much the same reasons, as in 'well, now you know'. Life is allowed to go on; it just happens to be more disappointing than originally thought. It's a simple case of Truth vs. Delusion. So yes... News. Unfortunately, I must clarify something before I get rolling. Before anyone out there imagines that I'm obsessing and crazy, as some historically have been inclined to do, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. The chances that I'm talking about YOU are slim, so slim, that they are actually NONE. I'm fairly certain that the woman I am discuss

The U.S. Open starts tomorrow and for the first time in more than a decade, I'm excited about it. I've checked the draw and I know who my favorites are playing, much like I used to do with Steffi and Gabriella back in the late '80s and early '90s. Thanks to a well-placed and largely self-promotional Facebook post, I also know that my favorite-favorite opens the tournament at 10:00am CDT on the Arthur Ashe stadium court. Yes, social media and the Internet are going to make this U.S. Open impossibly easy to follow. And if ESPN follows through with their promise of complete coverage, I'll watch as many matches live as I can around work, school, and my re-burgeoning tennis career. It's funny what you don't miss until you miss it. Years passed and I never gave tennis a thought. Players played and matches were won and lost. Rankings held, rankings fell. Grand Slams came and went. If I saw a score on ESPN I may have paid attention, but then again I probably igno

Ok... So I checked a score. I probably more stumbled upon it while checking others. At least that's what we're going with. After all, she should have been off the court. However... She wasn't. And I got a live score. I muttered a 'Fuck. Really?' and carried on with my evening. You gotta love technology. Via my iPhone 4 (and the WTA Tennis App) I can track tennis scores and tennis matches. Live. Every twenty seconds my phone updates and I can see who's winning, losing, choking, kicking ass, and barely holding on. Moment by moment. Sure, I don't know who 98% of the players are, but I can follow the 2% I do know (1% of those are named 'Williams'). Let me just say this would have been nifty back in the day when I was a real tennis fan. I'd have followed Steffi's and Gabriella's early round matches point-by-point. My buddies at the country club would have followed McEnroe and Agassi. We wouldn't have had to rely on TV coverage which wasn

The women's pro tour is in Cincinnati this week. I've never understood Cinci as a major tour stop. After all, what's in Cincinnati? Apparently a big tennis venue if nothing else. In any case, as I stated in a previous blog, I'm back to following  professional tennis and, as I stated above, the women (and men, incidentally) are in Cincinnati this week. Serena Williams is back in action after taking a week off after the Olympics. Wait for the blasphemy because it's coming.......... And I'll be rooting for her. Oy. Is this what it's come to? Thanks to Sam Stosur and The Jinx, I feel that I have no choice. I've never been a fan of the Williams sisters. Good players yes, but they always seemed to garner too much media attention and much of the hoopla was created by them. Historically, I like players such as Steffi Graf who quietly go about the business of kicking ass without saying 'Hey, hey, heeeeeey! LOOK AT ME!!!!' In their day, the Williams si

I own and wear Jesus sandals. For the record, I only ever wear them to walk my dogs or check the mail. Meaning they never see the light of day outside my apartment complex. I don't wear them because they remind me of Jesus or because I feel that they bring me and Jesus closer together. I simply can't bring myself to say that I wear 'Birkenstocks'. Once upon a time, in certain circles, they may have been cool. Now, though, they seem too frightfully hippie and I'm forced to fall back on semantics. Thus, the term 'Jesus Sandals'. I know we're talking about nano-shades of cool here, but I prefer to think that I wear something Jesus would have worn rather than something a dirty hippie down at the Hollow would wear. I know that kind of sentiment will make me few friends in Austin. Eh... I've never been the right kind of 'Keep Austin Weird' weird anyway. Crazy that I continue to wear them even though I'm caught in an ugly netherworld that ha

I suppose, in some ways, I'm at an advantage. I mean even over the Hot Chick at the Gym. After all, I know her name. It's not like we go to the same gym, shop at the same HEB, or play tennis at the same club. Nonetheless, I know her name and that's better than nothing. God bless. I love recon. I'm doing what I can and I'll do what I can. I'll create a vision and make it happen. And really, isn't that what we all do? I've said it before, 'That's the woman I'm going to marry' and I meant it. And eventually I came so, so very close. I've said, 'That woman is going to be one of my closest friends' and I meant it. And she is. I saw her and knew. Like the others, it was different. She was different. I was different. I have hope, if nothing else. I know what I know and 'It' (whatever 'It' is) will find a way. 'It' always has before. Faith is a wonderful thing. Trust is even better. If you can find it.

I'm not certain if I'm a jinx or if I simply prefer the underdog. Like the time I rooted for the Cleveland Indians in the ALCS while having a few drinks with my girlfriend in an Irish pub in Portland, Maine. Did I mention they were playing the Boston Red Sox who hold more sway than the Catholic Church in the Northeast? Yes, I like an underdog. No one in that bar was rooting for them that night. I decided it was my duty to represent. Luckily my girlfriend was a formidable enough presence to protect me from any potential backlash. Even luckier, the Red Sox won so most people probably thought I was pathetic and dumb rather than an asshole. Did I jinx the Indians that night? I suppose we could argue that one either way. The one time I root for the Indians they lose? It was probably a coincidence but one can't be sure. Until we look at my lifelong fascination with the San Diego Padres and San Diego Chargers. I've been a fan of both teams since I was old enough to know wha

I decided not too long ago to become a tennis fan again. I could look up the date if I wanted to. It was the day Samantha Stosur lost in the second round of Wimbledon this year to a woman named Aranxta Rus. Aranxta. Either her parents didn't like her much or they were tennis fans. Back in the day when I used to follow tennis (like in the late 80s/early 90s), there was another Aranxta. Sanchez-Vicario from Spain. I didn't much care for her game - slow looping ground strokes ready-made for clay. She had hustle so I tolerated her. I can't tell you much about her namesake, the new Aranxta. I was too busy focusing on her opponent, a woman I had likewise never heard of, and falling in love with the game of tennis again. It was early on a weekday and I was up. I probably had to work late that night or I may have been off. It doesn't really matter at this point. I made coffee and did what I do a lot during baseball season - I turned on ESPN Sportscenter to see scores and high

There's been a lot of talk about hatred lately. Venom has been spread and words have been spoken. By both sides. I get the feeling in a lot of cases that we hate them as much as they hate us. We of course make it sound like they are the bad guys. However, in my mind, hate is hate. It makes us all the bad guys. I'm not a fan of hate. I don't do it and I don't condone it. Think about the double standard. We don't think it's right for them to hate us for XYZ reason so we hate them for hating us. How is our brand of hatred any different than theirs? Ours is more righteous? More justified? More fact based? The problem is that the other side believes that they are more righteous, more justified, more fact based, too. What we end up with is a good old fashioned stand off. We're not budging and they're not budging. We are all right, remember? In our own minds at least. For example, I've heard that certain members of 'pro-family'/Religious Right g