Not Just A Hat Rack

Stillness

There's a stillness in my house today

An abyss and I can't walk away

I close my eyes and imagine then

The new year brings this to an end.

   

There's a torpor to my life tonight

Enough to give my soul a fright

Christmas lights are twinkling less

Morning light please bring redress.

   

Fear like twilight fills the room

An emptiness, a sense of doom

I look inside my heart instead

For a song that will eclipse the dread.

   

There's a silence in my soul today

An emptiness I can't betray

I need anxiety to become symphony

And drown today's disharmony.

Baseball cards

Baseball cards.   I admit it, I still love them and collect them.  Topps only though.  Not that I don't have boxes of Upper Decks and Fleers and Donrusses floating around, but they're consigned to the deepest recesses under my bed.

I decided a few years ago to try to collect every Topps season set since my birth as a gift for my first son.  I gave no thought to the possibility that I might have a second son.  Or a daughter.  (I'll worry about division of assets later.)  However, I promptly lost my "inventory" list to the deep recesses of a computer that hadn't been out of storage for 2+ years (until this month).  Tonight I went file-hunting, pulled out some shoe boxes full of cards, updated some number and discovered that I own about 10,000 of the roughly 27,000 cards printed by Topps since 1968.  I have complete collections of eight seasons ('75, '76, '79, '92 and '03-'06), and the majority of '74, '80, '81 and '88.  While it would be relatively easy to purchase most of the remaining cards in one fell swoop on Ebay these days, I'm taking my time - happy to pick up a few cards here and there. 

If you're reading this and about to throw away an old drawer full of cards - don't!  There's plenty of people like me who still find some intrinsic excitement about a little piece of cardboard with a picture on it - and, if you're lucky, the aroma of 25-year-old pink gum. 

Meantime, if you like the hobby and wish you could be the guy to write things on Gary Thurman's 1988 card (#89 in the set), He and twin sister have triplet brothers and sister," read this first:

A guy who fulfilled his dream to write for Topps from Slate Magazine.

Scene from My Italian Kitchen

Merry Christmas & Buon Natale,

I'll rank cooking next to running as two of my all-time favorite pastimes.  Both allow time to focus on a short-term goal, while at the same time being an excellent avenue to clear one's mind.  My family seems to recognize my appreciation of good food, especially the Italian variety.  After all, they offered Christmas gifts bearing the brand names Illy (Italian espresso), Molinari (San Francisco salame), Reggiano (parmesan cheese - is that a brand name?), Pan Ducale (biscotti), Ghirardelli (chocolate) and a new-and-improved pasta pot.  I'm in trattoria heaven.

(Warning: this is a bit of a long post, but if you're starving for some good, real, Italian minestrone, read to the end!)

I am fortunate the kitchen always smelled so delicious as a kid - and Mom let me linger, taste, touch, experiment whenever I wanted.  To this day, no kitchen smells better than Mom's when she's making spaghetti sauce. 

Only In Utah

I'm looking forward to the holiday break for the opportunity to add several entries to the 'Hat Rack.  Meantime, here are three stories that caught my eye today. They represent three things that make you wonder if the state tourism motto here shouldn't be "Hypocrisy Elevated" as opposed to "Life Elevated."

Censorship. Archaic Liquor Laws. Zealotry.

Six Degrees? Prove It!

Rashida Stewart? Are you out there?

Think you know Rashida? Or, do you know someone who knows someone who frequented The Estate in Chicago, or is an actor in the Windy City?

The premise of Columbia University's Small World Project is to prove that Six Degrees of Separation really do connect the world.  They have taken on what seems to be a massive research project, inviting people like me and you to find entirely random people around the globe - via email.

After seeing the story on ABC's PrimeTime on Weds., December 13th - I'm hooked.  I registered, to seek and be sought... and, ironically, it assigned me to track down a Chicagoan, Ms. Stewart, in six steps or less.

Good Riddance Pinochet

"In Chile, we have always known the truth about this evil man. It does my heart well that jail was his immediate future, and that he knew it." This is right. Any public humiliation Pinochet received at the end was the result of a movement of ordinary folks who never gave up.

These words come from Dave's Zirin's LA Times article about Chilean dictator Agustin Pinochet's recent, long overdue, demise.  And it's an article about soccer - such is life, such is soccer, in so much of the world.

I am relieved that Real Salt Lake has an ongoing relationship with the Universidad Catolica, not Colo Colo.  I am reminded about my university-era interest in Chilean politics, economics and literature - part of a fairly dramatic turn in my personal politics.

St. Christopher & Me

St. Christopher is looked upon by many Catholics as the patron saint of travelers.  As I wrote here, Catholics have patron saints for everything.  Being in a position that requires a fair amount of travel, I’ve always kept St. Christopher in my thoughts (and even carried a medallion for awhile), figuring I can use the additional help any time I’m on the move.  I have recently read, however, that the Vatican “de-canonized” him in the late 20^th century.  (Why wasn’t I consulted?  I actually like this saint and know what he does!  What about St. Kitt’s? The island is named for him – although I’m not sure how they got Kitt from Christopher.)  Well, he’s still good in my book – and I hope he’s still looking out for me.  Otherwise, I might fall victim to some of these… some of my favorite true-life, “wayward traveler” stories…

            “I knew a guy who knew a guy who…”

Sam Weller's

Earlier this year, at my wife's behest, I followed up on an ad from our local NPR station seeking volunteers to mentor community writing groups.  Two Thursdays a month, a group of 6-8 of us gather to read and discuss each other's works.  Our group features professors of Linguistics, Music and Theatre from the University of Utah, plus the GM of Sam Weller's Book Store, an aspiring playwright, an environmental writer and a not-quite-starving actor, plus me.  In the same way that my wife goes to knitting as much for the social outlet as the hobby, I think our group has grown together in the mutual pursuit of good company and intelligent conversation.

Long preamble aside, we'll be the featured attraction in the Sam Weller's shop window this Thursday, Dec. 7th, from 6pm to 8pm.  Come by and say hi, listen in or heckle.  You're also eligible for 10% off any purchase in those hours, and Sam Weller's will donate another 10% to our group, which will undoubtedly turn the $$ over to charity.

Sam Weller's is worth the trip in its own right if you've never been... more than 1,000,000 new and used books, the leading independent bookstore in the state, a great source for books on all things Utah - and full of history and intrigue, as the location has served many purposes over the years, including a night club.  The bookstore feels every bit the 77 years it has persevered as a downtown destination for bibliphiles.  Read more at SamWellers.com - and come see us on Thursday.

Found Letters, #1

I have boxes of old letters and notes, to and from me.  I found this one inside a cookbook.  Unfortunately, I promptly ran it through the washing machine by accident.  But I have been able to reconstruct all but the first sentence, which appears in italics from my memory.  This note, accompanying the gift to me of a brand-new baseball glove, provides me a warm glimpse into my past, as I set out just days later to begin a career in baseball in Palm Springs.  The author was a dear friend with whom I no longer correspond.                                                                                                                                           

Christmas 1991

(Merry Christmas. I know you have other gloves, but those gloves are old and worn.)  This glove is different because it is empty.  The other glove you have is full, full of memories that have softened and worn it down.  The others played innumerable games of catch in the front yard, wherever that front yard may have been.  The other glove was there with you when you were learning the game, to keep your eye on the ball, to follow through on your swing.  It played hundreds of Little League games.  It is full of the sound of your family clapping for you from the bleachers, when you made the game winning play; and when you didn’t.

But this glove is empty, and it is stiff.  And you’re not a little boy in Little League any more. You’re about to start in a whole new game, in a new town, with team.  It’s a whole new ballpark. At first it may feel as stiff and empty as this new glove.  But with attention and care, soon the rough edges will start to smooth, tight spots stretch and laces loosen here and there.  This glove too will fill up with new names and faces, grow worn with sights, sounds and smells.  It will be full of a whole new life, one I hope you’ll love.  A life that fits you, like a glove.                                                                

                                                   

PS - Despite these sentiments, I didn't keep the glove.  It just didn't fit my hand.  I acquired my current glove at one of the last baseball winter meetings I attended.  It is in dire need of memories.

Going to Moab...

Lots of quick posts in the next few days...

My lottery application for the Canyonlands Half Marathon in Moab on March 17, 2007 was accepted.  My wife registered me ... apparently some of our running friends gather annually, rent some hotel rooms and kick off the running season there.  Also, apparently, no one else's lottery bid was accepted - so maybe it's just me running?!

From the race website: Temperatures on raceday have varied from 23-88°F. It is advisable to dress in layers.

Wow - that's some disparity.  Must be Utah.

Anyway, I've never been to Moab, so I'm excited.  What an inspiring place to run, I imagine.  I'm putting a goal out there right now - 1:35:00 - which would be one minute faster than my time at the Huntsville Half-Marathon in September, but still not a PR.  It also represents a solid pace that could impel me to break my marathon PR of 3:09. 

May Marathon anyone?