matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

the boy

“Does it bring back memories?”

Exploring Spotify’s “Indie Bluegrass” playlist last night, I discovered her — Sarah Jarosz, a young singer/songwriter whose music excites me more than any music I can remember from the last ten years or so. I began wandering through her catalog, continually impressed and pleased, and then I heard it. Her cover of Dylan’s “Simple Twist of Fate.” A voice; a pizzicato cello — nothing else. Perfection.

I played it for the Boy this evening and he was asking me about it. “Does it bring back memories?” he asked.

“None at all,” I smiled. I guess he’s used to me reveling in the memories particular songs bring to mind, but this song, this performance — no memories at all. And that’s what makes connecting to new music so magical. For me, the new music that hook me have a certain timeless sense to them. They feel like they should have memories dripping from them.

Over the course of the last twenty-four hours, I’ve managed to listen to about four of her albums, but the first one I listened to remains my favorite: World on the Ground. The whole thing is available as a playlist on YouTube.

She’s also released a video of completely-stripped-down versions of some of the album’s best songs (undoubtedly in their original composition state).

Sunday on the Trail

The Boy and I were alone for most of the day as the girls were in Rock Hill for the tournament -- three tournaments in three weeks means we're just about sick of them.

Breakfast of an omelet with bacon -- a guaranteed clean plate

E and I had decided to go back to Southside Park to do some more riding. We first, though, had to perform a bit of maintenance. His bike developed a flat yesterday, so we had to get a new inner tube. That done, we headed out.

We went over to the improvised "Power Line" trail because that was what E had been dreaming of all week. At the start of it, I realized I'd lost my water bottle. We went back the way we came but to no avail, which meant a bit of judicious water bottle sharing: in short, I drank only when my throat was raging because the Boy always finishes his bottle and wants some of mine.

After 11 km of riding, we started back when suddenly, E got such a severe puncture that his rear tire -- the one with the new inner tube -- deflated almost instantaneously. Had to walk 2 km back to the car...

Successful Saturday

The Boy's soccer team won 2-1 with a literal last-minute goal.

The Girl's volleyball team won all three of their games in straight sets.

A good day in sports for our family.

Guitar Center Visit

Blue and Gold and Bullies

There are a lot of things in the world that we might initially fear for no justifiable reason other than something deep within us says, “Run!” There are other things that seem completely harmless and yet can kill. How do we tell them apart?

Fortunately, in nature, evolution provided us with handy indicators: colorful creatures often are creatures we should avoid. Think of a coral snake. Bands of color warn us that this is a creature to avoid. Yet the scarlet king snake has very similar colors as an adaptive measure: it’s harmless, but it looks deadly. We stay away out of an abundance of caution.

E’s scout pack had their Red and Gold Banquet tonight to celebrate the birthday of scouting. There were the usual scout meeting elements: a flag ceremony, recitation of the scout oath and law as well as the pledge, announcements, and the like There was a pleasant meal with friendly chatter. And there was something new: a visitor who brought a number of animals with him. There were snakes and frogs, insects and lizards, a couple of scorpions, some snakes, and a tortoise. Scouts got to handle some of them but mainly just look. One of the scorpions had venom in its stinger that could kill a human. It, of course, stayed inside its box.

The highlight of the evening was the albino python that required seven minders plus the handler to hold. E got to hold a tarantula, which I thought he might back out of when the moment came. He looked over at me, though, getting a reassuring thumbs-up, he went ahead and conquered that fear.

“The legs were hair and tickled a little,” he said on the way home.

Often people are the same as animals: they make clear with their words and actions that they are a threat, that they are someone that others need to deal with early on before things escalate. Russia’s attack on Ukraine was no surprise: Putin puffed out his chest, spread his tail, rattled his tail, flattened his hooded face, hissed, growled, clicked, and grunted, and the rest of us just contented ourselves with the thought that, like the scarlet snake, he only looked dangerous.

But we knew he was dangerous. All his words and deeds showed us that. Now we’re talking about draconian sanctions and such long after the time it could have actually helped. If we’d completely isolated Russia after it annexed Crimea, if we’d made life for its oligarchs all but impossible by completely cutting them off from all access of their incredible wealth held in Western banks and hedge funds, we might have affected some kind of change. But doing that now is a little like signing up for a self-defense course as you hear home invaders breaking down your door: too little much too late.

All the media outlets are running stories about how this changes everything, about how this is the greatest threat to Europe since World War 2, about how this will affect Russia and the rest of the world for years to come, and I think that’s an appropriate reaction. However, we should have had that reaction when they annexed Crimea. We should have had that reaction when they attacked Georgia. We should have known what kind of man we were dealing with when Putin began publishing pictures of himself without a shirt, puffing out his chest, riding horses.

It’s no wonder Trump gets sexually aroused just thinking out this guy. He’s everything Trump wants to be. It’s no wonder he’s praising this guy. He’s the cool bully in class that all the pimple-faced asshole bully-wannabes want to hang out with to get a little street credibility.

Pics from Yesterday and a Teacher Reality

New Record for the Boy

Twenty-six miles on a bike today.

Croft Ride and Savannah Tournament

Boys’ Saturday

We started with an early soccer game -- 8:15. On the way there, we drove by his school at just about the time he'd be arriving for a normal school day.

Somehow, the boys lost their second consecutive game. I say "somehow" because for 90% of the game, they dominated. They kept the ball in their opponents' half of the field, and I'd say they had at least 25 shots on goal. Their opponents maybe had 6-8 shots on goal -- but one of them went in. That's the only difference, but that's the most important difference.

After the game, a little relaxation for the Boy, with a quote from a favorite movie of mine -- modified, somewhat.

Late morning was honey-do list time -- including getting some final details set for K's new workstation.

I'm not jealous of her computer, but I'm envious of that desk!

Afternoon -- bike ride. What else?

Hot dogs for dinner -- the Boy on the grill.

Untitled Composition