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Volleyball Tuesday

Tuesday 22 September 2020

The girls had another game today. It was the same as previous games: complete slaughter. At one point, the girls were up in the first set something like 18-3. The coach, being an individual of character, always starts pulling out his big hitters when it's obvious where the game is going, but at the same time, he wants to give them court time. (Still, when the poor opponents can't even return an underhand serve after the coach pulled our best server while she was serving, what's the quality of play they get?)

This was a private school, the private school in the area. Eighth-grade tuition is $21,510. The team in Spartanburg we beat mercilessly was also from a private school, but its tuition was only something like $17k a year. For whatever reason, one would think they would have better teams. And they probably do: it turns out that in most of these private schools that also include a high school, the eighth graders get shuttled up to the high school JV or even varsity team, so our girls are playing sixth and seventh graders.

Today was only a scrimmage game, though. It doesn't count toward anyone's record. Still, if it was only a scrimmage, why couldn't we scrimmage with the JV or even varsity team?

Neighbors’ Signs and Our Swings

Monday 21 September 2020

We went for our typical walk this evening -- a route that wanders primarily through the neighborhood on the other side of the main-ish street off of which several neighborhoods spiral. As we walked by a house, a man came up to us saying that he'd been meaning to meet us several times he's seen us go by. It seems he's quite the border collie fan and has noticed our cute pup as we walk by. We got to talking and talk turned to corona. He pointed to a sign in his yard -- not quite like the sign at right but the same general idea -- and said, "I guess it's obvious where I stand."

I glanced over at the sign in his neighbor's yard. I found myself wondering how they get along. I know for a fact that my views are more liberal than our neighbors' views, but I tend not to talk about politics with them. When the topic does come up, I might make a non-committal comment every now and then, but by and large, I keep my views to myself.

It's not that I think they'll be angered that I have different views than they hold. It's not that I fear damaging the relationship we have (though I wonder if they might not think less of me were they to know what I think of our president). I just don't see the point in adding politics into a relationship like that.

It reminds me of Frost's line, "Good fences make good neighbors," and while I don't necessarily agree with the sentiment, I would say good fences make great backyards. As do swings, hammocks, trampolines, dogs, and tennis balls.

A Walk and First Bonfire

Sunday 20 September 2020

In the afternoon, we took the dog to the dog park. It's not that we felt she needed the exercise; rather, we felt she needed some canine socialization. We couldn't go to our favorite park without a walk, though, so after the dog had had enough (or rather, we'd had enough), we headed out for a short jaunt.

We likely would have made a bit longer walk of it had our favorite park not recently banned pets and bikes from the unpaved areas. K emailed the park administration about it, and they explained that it was due to a number of complaints about off-leash dogs and crazed cyclists who put others at risk and damage the flora. But the thing is, K pointed out on our walk today, we rarely saw others on the off-road trails. There were a couple of more-popular trails that had more traffic, but by and large, we were the only ones we ever saw there.

There is a certain temptation to say, "Forget it -- we don't damage anything, and we wouldn't dream of letting Clover off-leash, so we're going to walk the trails anyway." But we follow rules even when we don't like them. (Insert political comment here.)

After the walk, we let the kids play on the playground a bit. The biggest kid got a kick out of trying to do the same tricks the middle kid did.

To top off the weekend, we had the first bonfire of the autumn 2020 season.

Exempt

Sunday 20 September 2020

Churches are exempt from paying taxes; political organizations are not. All too often, though, the former morph into the latter, and it’s for that reason that many of us feel that churches should not enjoy tax-exempt status. Usually, priests and pastors couch these statements in less obviously political language. It fools no one, and of course, the congregants generally support that language and their perceived right to say it in an organization that pays no taxes — it’s seen as first amendment rights.

So to be present when blatantly political speech takes place in the context of prayer makes someone who holds the above views quite irate.

Today, we went to mass at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, a church that we’ve attended a few times, and probably would attend more often given the difficulty of signing up for one of the available slots at our parish’s reduced-capacity masses. But I for one will not set foot in that building again after the blood-boiling nonsense I heard today. During the general intercessions, when it came time for the priest to add his intentions, he prayed for Trump and his pick for the Supreme Court position. I really wanted to walk out at that point, but I remained. It wasn’t as if he were thanking his god — which I put in lower-case, for it seems to be the god of political power — for the death of Ginsberg; he was merely supporting the hypocrisy of the right. Given the historical hypocrisy of the Catholic Church, it shouldn’t come as much surprise that a priest would promote and praise political hypocrisy in the name of maintaining power.

As the mass was ending, though, during the time just before the benediction when the priest usually makes announcements, he launched into another political speech about the importance of the Supreme Court nomination. I’d had enough. I walked out.

The Boy

Saturday 19 September 2020

Opportunity

Saturday 19 September 2020

Rarely do such stark opportunities emerge to rise to one’s professed principles or to sink to rank hypocrisy as this moment for Republicans. What will it be? Will they prove themselves to be a party of principle or a party interested only in gathering unto itself increasing political power? Will they, now that the shoe is on the other foot, treat Democrats as they demanded they be treated in 2016?

That’s the real irony of this looming crisis: Republicans wrap themselves in the pages of the Bible, proclaiming themselves to be the vanguard of all that’s decent — according to their definition of the term, which is always couched in religious ideals. But when it comes down to it, they are no more interested in principles or basic decency than your average thug.

In Armando Iannucci’s brilliant The Death of Stalin, there’s a telling scene in which Lavrentiy Beria, facing his own doom, demands to be treated in accordance with the law and then begs for mercy. In his brutal career, he faced such pleas countless times, I’m sure, and he always responded with barbarity and cruelty. When he lost power, he begged for just that which he would not give to others.

Lindsey Graham, Mitch McConnell, Marco Rubio, and Ted Cruz are on record:

So when Mitch McConnell said “President Trump’s nominee will receive a vote on the floor of the United States Senate,” he showed himself to be perhaps the best, clearest example of a hypocrite that one could imagine. It’s hard to envision a more clear-cut case of blatant, power-grabbing hypocrisy than what we’re witnessing now in the Republican party.

Any Congressional Republicans who go along with this show their constituency that they are not individuals of their words, that they are the basest liars, that they should not be entrusted with any power, and on the basis of principle alone, their Republican constituents should vote them out.

Will this happen? Of course not. Why won’t Republicans do this? Because the Republican party no longer exists. It is a party of only one principle, and that’s power. Republican states are no longer red states (Isn’t it ironic that the color for Republicans is the color associated with communism? Isn’t it ironic how cozy our current Republican president is with the Russian leader trying desperately to reconstitute Soviet power?); they are orange states, to match the hue of their lord and savior.

Before and After

Friday 18 September 2020

Volleyball Thursday

Thursday 17 September 2020

At the Swing

Wednesday 16 September 2020

For a few years there, you could count on pictures down at the swing and hammocks. It was such a regular occurrence that I pretty much stopped taking pictures down there. How many pictures of your kids swinging do you really need?

Today, we all went down to the swings for a while before dinner. I took some pictures, then gave the camera to the Boy.

He's got a good eye, that little fellow.

Tuesday Playing

Tuesday 15 September 2020

K and the Boy spent some time rolling around the neighborhood this evening after dinner. One of the countless things I love about K is her own love of childhood joys.