Tennis grunters and other crises

TENNIS NOISES: As I typed on the computer in the kitchen this morning, I could hear Maria Sharapova's screech each time she struck the tennis ball all the way from the TV set in the living room. That sound she makes is not a simple grunt. I could handle that. But this screech she utters each time she swings her racquet sounds like the same noise I heard the last time I visited the exotic birds house at the zoo. The more I watched and listened, the more she disgusted me. I finally became pleased she was playing so poorly.

Are the sensitive microphones that pick up sounds the culprit? Apparently not because I don't hear the same violent screeching when other players swing.

Happily Maria now has a couple of weeks off. Unfortunately my boy, Andy Roddick, will be enjoying the same unexpected vacation. At least we have Federer and Nadal to watch. Hopefully they both last at Wimbledon until a week from Sunday. . . . . .

COLLEGE BASEBALL: What a great story the Fresno State baseball championship is! And how sweet it is that the schools that seem to ALWAYS qualify for the College World Series---LSU, Miami, Rice, USC, Arizona State, Florida State, North Carolina, et al.---win it infrequently! . . . . .
Good luck to Coach Christiansen in California. Sorry to hear he's leaving South Dakota State, but he is leaving his mark there. . . . . .

BASEBALL OBSERVATION: I've spent a lot of hours at Prentis Park in Vermillion this summer, watching Red Sox amateur games and Post 1 Legion games. It seems as if it is usually the visiting team that has the problem, but outfield fly balls are dropping all over the place. Is it the lights that get into the outfielders' eyes? I don't think so because it happens in daylight, too. Maybe it's simply that the visiting coaches are sticking the players who can't catch the ball into the outfield spots instead of the infield. I'm not sure of the reason, but it seems I've written "E7" and "E8" and "E9" on my scorecards many more times this summer than in the past. . . . . .

Things are not going well today, so far at least. Andy Roddick lost. The Cubs are getting creamed at home where they hardly ever lose. The Twins aren't off to a very good start either. But a departing thought---things could be worse. As Maria Sharapova, the tennis screecher, said in her post-defeat interview, "There are worse things than losing a tennis match."

Cleansing my brain of negative thoughts

In light of the news that Tiger Woods won't be playing in any of the PGA Tour events until 2009, people are decrying the fact that there is no reason to watch professional golf on TV for the rest of the year. That's probably true except for one thing---to cheer against Retief Goosen, or whatever his name is, for suggesting aloud that Tiger has been faking his injury. It may not help divert the path of one of his potential tournament-winning putts, but when Goosen steps up to the ball, you can be sure I will send my vibes radiating toward the TV screen and yell like crazy, "Miss it!" . . . . .

Do you get the impression I cheer AGAINST players and teams more than I cheer FOR them. Sad, but true. But isn't it sweet that #1 Miami was sent packing out of the College World Series. Aw, that's a shame. Not! Florida State went home, too, and tonight we get to see either North Carolina or LSU eliminated. Whichever it is, SWEET! . . . . .

I sat through a rather entertaining amateur ballgame last night. The Vermillion Red Sox ended up with 13 runs, and the Vermillion Grey Sox had three, but an inning earlier it was a 5-3 game. Actually neither team won---the gnats and mosquitoes did. I hear the City of Vermillion is beginning to spray today. Glad to hear that! Coach Kirk Sorensen's wife asked if I wanted to share her Listerine. That wasn't a comment on my bad breath. She had a spray bottle full of Listerine and informed me that Listerine is a good thing to spray on oneself to keep the bugs away. So I tried it. I indeed smelled like sweet breath for the rest of the game, but the gnats stayed off me, at least until I cut through Prentis Park after the game on the way home. . . . . .

Boston, Boston, Boston. OK, I'm happy for Kevin Garnett. He has his ring, and he was decent enough to say something about Minnesota as he was wildly celebrating the NBA title. But it's Boston. I can't really explain how I can be such a diehard New England Patriots fan (because they play in Foxboro, the suburbs?) and despise the Red Sox and dislike the Celtics. . . . . .
What will the ESPN networks do now that the NBA Finals are over? Shut down for a couple of weeks until pro football training camps open? They now don't have ABC's coverage to promote on that ribbon that rolls across the bottom of the screen. They can't very well show films of the Celtics-Lakers finals from the 1980s. They actually may have to quit talking about Kobe Bryant? . . . . .

So Colin Cowherd of ESPN Radio is coming to Sioux Falls? Probably an entertaining speaker. But I hope somebody asks him a question that makes him squirm, such as an explanation of his derisive comment about the Iowa State football team playing "something called South Dakota State" in the opener this fall. . . . . .

I tried to erase all negative thoughts from my head, but with a Cubs-White Sox series looming each of the next two weekends, I can't totally do that. After all, they are the White Sox. . . . . .

While the oven heats

With daughter Heather gone to the convention of the State Bar for the rest of the week and grandson Dylan with his father all of this week, it's just Oliver and I here at home. The TV schedule this evening is slim pickings---the College World Series is on (but North Carolina in its sickly blue suits is playing) and the NBA Finals Game #6 will be on (and I want the Celtics and the Lakers both to lose). So I turned on the oven---first for pizza for supper, now for my favorite pumpkin dessert which will last me all week, and next for peanut butter cookies. No reason to heat up the oven separately for each of these reasons, so I'm doing it all at once. . . . . .

There are thunderstorms an hour or so to the west, and it's been overcast here for several hours. We'll see if we get our first rain in a week's time. . . . . .

It will be good when Friday afternoon is over. I mistakenly agreed in April to play a 30-minute organ/piano concert out in the country at Dalesburg Lutheran where they're having their annual Midsummer Festival this weekend. So yesterday I went out to see what music I want to do on that organ, deciding to do four organ pieces, then switch to the piano and throw in some sing-alongs to help make the half hour go quickly. Oliver and I will go out again tomorrow so I can practice again, especially the organ pieces. . . . . .

As I was skimming my newest book purchase, Thurston Clarke's "The Last Campaign," the story of Sen. Robert Kennedy's final 82 days, this morning, I wanted to check out what he said about the South Dakota primary, which occurred that day in 1968 when the senator died. What leaped off the page was a phrase that said something to the effect that the senator received a call from Bill Daugherty (it should have been spelled "Dougherty") "who was in a hotel in Sioux City, South Dakota, with campaign workers."

Good grief! Doesn't Henry Holt & Co. have any proofreaders or editors with some degree of geographical acumen? Apparently not. Sioux City is not in South Dakota; it never was; for that matter, we don't want it.

If I had known such a stupid error was in this book, I wouldn't have spent $20+ on it. How can I be sure anything else the author says is accurate if he can't even get the name of a city in South Dakota correct? . . . . .

'A death in the family'

I had shut off the TV for a couple of hours this afternoon because, after procrastinating all week, I had to get music organized for a performance I have to do next week, so I stumbled upon the news of Tim Russert's death when I rechecked e-mail. So I flipped on the TV, of course, to hear some of the comments, not only on MSNBC but on CNN and even Fox News Channel.

Having spent every Tuesday night of the primary season from Iowa back in early January on through South Dakota in June, I can say that indeed it does seem like "a death in the family" as one of the commentators just stated.

As another said, he was one of the newsmen that could be trusted to grill both political sides equally strongly. I can't imagine "Meet the Press" or Election Night coverage without him.

Thursday thoughts

I am not a fan of the NBA as stated before, but I must admit I flipped over to the fourth quarter of Game #4 when the 10:00 news came on. Ha! It's fun to see the movie stars and the rest of the Hollywoodies streaming for the exits before the game ends. Funny---they weren't chanting "MVP ... MVP" at the end of this game, were they! . . . . .

Oh, don't think I'm a Celtics fan. After all, they're Boston, aren't they? But since it's the way things are these days in pro sports---big stars move to wherever they think they can win a championship ring---so I guess Kevin Garnett deserves one if any of them do. . . . . .

Great Cubs win today! Tied the game in the ninth and won it in extra innings. 'Twould have been a fun day to be at Wrigley Field. . . . . .

I drove up to Sioux Falls today to have lunch at Perkins next to I-90 with Holly and her girls as they came through from Rochester en route to Pierre. Olivia seems taller than she was when I saw her last two months ago. It took Audrey a half hour to get used to me and let me pick her up, but that's understandable. . . . . .

Dylan went to his dad's today, so we won't have him here for 10 days. And this will happen twice more this summer. For that reason I'll be glad when September arrives. . . . . .

The anti-black e-mails (some people think they're jokes) circulating these days are really pitiful and pathetic. . . . . .

If there's a father who reads this thing, well, Happy Father's Day to you!

Appreciate Dad while he's still around

I must admit that my life has been so rich and full that any regrets I still have are few and far between, and rightly so. Four wonderful children. Three exquisite grandchildren who, all by themselves, are sufficient reason to look forward to each day. Seven great towns in which I've lived, each of them creating great memories, experiences and friends.

I do, however, have two or three regrets, and there's nothing at this late date that I can do about them. One of those regrets is that I didn't appreciate my father nearly enough until after his death.

Perhaps it's the approach of Father's Day that has me thinking about him again.

Come the first week of September, Maynard Acheson Knox will have been gone for 43 years. He was born in 1895 when South Dakota was only six years old and raised in a dirt-poor family (I think, in those days, every family was). The Knoxes lived off the land in the Little Bend country of far western Sully County on the wild Missouri River, just a few miles below the mouth of the Cheyenne on the opposite shore. He went to Europe with the U.S. Army during World War I. He met my mom after she and her parents, the McConnachies, came out from Illinois so my mother's dad could build the high school in Onida.

My dad was 43 when he and my mother were married, and he was 44 when I was born the following year, so it was to be expected that, once I got into my mid-20s and beyond, Dad would be reaching the age when any additional year of life is a gift.

After his cancer was diagnosed in 1962, he survived 3 1/2 years until Labor Day weekend of 1965. He made it to age 70, the age I will be as soon as next year. Dad lived long enough to know his first grandchild, my niece, but only as an infant. She was barely past six months old when he died. My own married life wouldn't begin for another 5 1/2 years, so Dad never knew my wife nor any of my kids or grandkids. He would have enjoyed them so much.

My dad was such a good and decent man and so highly respected in the community. I remember hearing that so often at the time of his funeral and afterward. And without a doubt, he was a rock-solid pillar of any group to which he belonged.

Though the Onida Presbyterian Church probably could have survived without him, it didn't seem so to me back when I was a teen-ager still living at home. He was an elder in the church, but it was the things he did for the church that he didn't have to do that left an indelible impression on me. If a door needed fixing, he did it. He saw to it that the lawn at the church was mowed long before our own grass was cut (I suppose that's only fair since he had two teen-age sons to mow!). The sidewalks at the church were shoveled and plowed before there was ever a path out to our garage or out to the street alongside our house. He saw to it that any problem that arose with the minister and his family and their house was solved.

He was a proud and devoted member of the American Legion. In his possessions we still have his Legionnaire's cap. I well remember him in the color guard at the cemetery or at Memorial Day programs.

The Masonic Lodge and the Eastern Star chapter, though I never understood just what they did or why they existed, were important to him. He served in every official capacity either organization had. If he missed a meeting of either one, there must have been a very good reason.

I don't know if the fact that his love of the outdoors didn't carry over to me, his older son, was a disappointment to him or not. I didn't ask, and he didn't say. He was an avid pheasant and deer hunter, and he was a state championship trapshooter.

One of my fondest memories is all of the trapshoots we attended all over the state. I wasn't a shooter, but I was one of the best trapshooting scorekeepers there ever was, and getting to post the scores on the clubhouse scoreboard after they came in from each trap was a treat.

Maynard Knox was the epitome of hard work. He had at least three jobs, each of which seemed full-time to me. Dumb kid that I was, I couldn't get it through my head that he worked so hard and so long for us---Mom, John and me.

First there was his mail route. The Onida post office, with all due respect to anybody who followed him, never had a mail carrier better or more devoted than my dad. On summer school vacation days and sometimes on Saturdays, I got to ride his route with him. Rural Route 2 went out of Onida to the west, then circled around to the north and northeast. The Ripleys, the Seamans, the Weischedels, the Brookings, the Lomheims, the Pierces, the Todds, the Westphals, the Hoovers---I can still see in my mind where their mailboxes were. In those days mail carriers had to reach across their front seats and put mail in boxes through the passenger side windows, so, in my mind at least, having me along was a help to my dad. I don't know if he thought that I was or not, but geography nut that I was, it surely was a kick to see where all people's mail came from before I placed it inside their boxes.

One of the jobs Dad had for many years in his afternoons after he arrived back in town from his mail route was as handyman for Bess and Agnes, two spinster companions who owned and operated a great deal of farmland and rental properties as well as owning the county's abstract business. They always had a long list of things for him to do. One of the perks of Dad working for Bess and Agnes was that they were fond of me. Occasionally they took me inside their house, the biggest house in Onida for sure, for treats. When older and more responsible, I got first pick at a summer job in their abstract office.

The other opportunity to spend quality time with Dad, though I never considered it as such at the time, was on his rural assignments with the county ASCS office. For many a summer, I was Dad's "partner" as we criss-crossed Sully County to get test samples of farmers' grain from out of their bins. We bagged them, hauled them back to town and saw to it that they were mailed to the state office. I recall how exhilarating it was to hear, when Dad got into town from his mail route, that we didn't have to go out for the ASCS that day. I wish I had a few of those days back.

The most vivid image of the day we buried my dad was sitting in the car at the cemetery, waiting for what seemed like an endless line of other cars coming from town to join us. As my mom watched those cars, inching their way along the gravel road toward the cemetery, she mused, "He meant a lot to a lot of people, didn't he."

Just the other day I was writing in this blog about some of the fun things I am enjoying doing with my almost-4-year-old grandson this year and next in Vermillion. Hours in the park on the playground equipment, running bases in the empty baseball park, walking the dog, watching big semis thunder by from the rest stop out on the interstate, and on and on. As I was writing, it became a nagging worry to me that I couldn't remember doing hardly any of those same things with my own kids.

Had I just forgotten such priceless moments? Is my memory not what it used to be? I surely should be able to remember clearly what would have taken place within the last 30 years!

Oh, I well remember their school activities, of course. They never went to a music contest or enjoyed a band trip when I wasn't along with the group. A treasured memory is the Christmas Eve services at church---it almost became tradition at the Methodist church for the Knox kids to sing with their dad accompanying them on the piano. There were the summer Broadway musicals we shared---"Music Man" and "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Fiddler on the Roof" and others, usually with the kids on the stage and me in the pit orchestra. But did we ever play out in the yard? Did we ever take Buppy for walks? Did we ever take time to swing at Griffin Park or play catch?

As I sat here at the keyboard that day, trying to squeeze an experience or two out of my memory bank, I almost panicked as if there were anything I could do about it now with all four of the kids 28 or older!

I'm thinking there probably weren't all that many such occurrences, and I know why. I was always working, that's why. For 17 of the best years of my kids' lives, I was publisher, editor, newswriter, photographer, bookkeeper, advertising salesperson and No. 1 worrier for the weekly newspaper we owned 32 miles from where we lived. I was gone constantly, and it was not fun. It was genuine work, and I despised it. Thank God the kids had their mother.

And for all of the years the four kids were in high school, I was working at another full-time job as well, this one from early morning till early afternoon, the other one from early afternoon for as long as it took, and it usually took evenings, sometimes all night, and most weekend hours. Now that I look back, it all was quite ridiculous. But at the time it seemed necessary.

The fact that I'm getting to spend so much quality time with Dylan at this stage in my life is a blessing I don't take lightly. Kicking a soccer ball in the yard or watching the "Dumbo" CD for the umpteenth time or fixing his favorite Tuna Helper lunch (again!) are memories I hope Dylan remembers, years from now, even though he isn't yet 4 years old.

But while I'm still around to read and remember, there's something I want my kids to do between now and next February when I celebrate (is "observe" a better word?) my 70th birthday. I don't need a new tie or a new watch or a new shirt, but I'd like them to write down some memories (especially the happy ones) they have of their growing-up years, things that I apparently don't remember. There surely must be some! I wasn't working around the clock, was I? Put 'em in a book, tie a ribbon on the front, and that's the best birthday present I could imagine.

In the meantime, not only this weekend when it's Father's Day, but year-round, if you readers are fortunate enough to still have your dad, count your blessings and share your memories with him.

5 straight days of sunshine!

It's overcast this morning after thunderboomers came through overnight. We had five straight days of sunshine, blue skies and warmth, so that's more than we probably should have expected. The chance of rain increases as we go into the afternoon. The problem with that is that, once it leaves here, it heads to Minnesota, Iowa and Wisconsin, and the last thing those people need is rain. . . . . .

Over the weekend I was at four Post 1 Legion games here in Vermillion, doing my duty as a reporter for the Vermillion Plain Talk. We (see? I've become a Vermillionite!) won two and lost two. There is supposed to be a doubleheader this evening against Harrisburg, but the forecast doesn't sound too promising. . . . . .

I drove to Akron, Iowa (that's only about 25 miles away) on Sunday afternoon to cover the Vermillion Red Sox game (that's the amateur team on which I report for the Plain Talk). What a beautiful little smalltown ballpark they have over there! . . . . .

Grandson Dylan leaves tomorrow to spend 10 days with his dad in the Rapid City area. Oliver will spend the first couple of days wandering around the house looking for him. As for me, it's really lonesome around here without him, and my daily schedule suddenly has no regimentation when he's away because there's nowhere I have to be at a certain time! . . . . .

One thing on which I need to get to work is a performance (yes, a performance!) on piano and organ I have to do out at Dalesburg Lutheran Church on Friday afternoon, June 20. They have a huge shindig called Sommarfest out there, and I am one of the entertainers. I agreed to that in a very weak moment obviously. . . . . .

The radio news reporter just said gas is likely to be at $4 per gallon through next year. It just costs too much to go anywhere! I've already skipped two weddings in the past two months that I really wanted to attend, and I even need to schedule trips to see the kids very carefully. Somehow or other I need to get to Rapid City and Custer once this summer to see Jason and Allison as well as Custer friends; I haven't been out there since moving away in May 2007. And also to Rochester and Minneapolis to see Holly and family and Ryan. . . . . .

Have a good day!

Read if you're interested

If you want to read a well-written article by a newsman who was there about Sen. Obama's speech in St. Paul last night, here is the address:

http://www.minnpost.com/stories/2008/06/04/2106/evolution_of_a_candidate

Politics is interesting again

Maybe it was the six-week gap between a primary election in March (I forget now where it was!) and the one in Pennsylvania in late April. It had been such a rush, the weekly primaries almost every Tuesday. Then we had to sit and wait for Obama and Clinton to continue campaigning with no actual voting until Pennsylvania. I became rather bored with it all. Now it's getting interesting again. . . . . .

Will Sen. Clinton be asked by Sen. Obama to be his runningmate? Should he ask her? Intriguing question. Are we tired of the Clintons? Or, judging from her rather powerful speech supporting Israel just this morning, would she be a powerful force and attract millions of additional voters to the Obama cause this fall? I guess somebody smarter than I will make that decision. . . . . .

Those were three very interesting speeches Tuesday night---first McCain in Louisiana, then Clinton in New York, then Obama in St. Paul. I ask you, my friends, was there ever a worse speech on national television than McCain's was last night? Yes, my friends, every one of his speeches and public presentations from now till Nov. 4 is as bad as that one, he might not even carry South Dakota! (No, my friends, we know better than that---the Republican will carry South Dakota, no matter what.) Even Limbaugh, Hannity, O'Reilly, Ingraham and the other far-righties must have shuddered as they watched McCain last night. . . . . .

Is it a sign of weakness if Sen. Obama "caves in" to Hillary Clinton's overtures about the vice presidential nomination? Is it a sign of weakness if he gives in to McCain's plan for 10 town hall meetings between now and the end of August with him and Obama side by side answering questions? McCain can't possibly match Obama when it comes to public speaking, not even close, but would he gain points on the same stage? . . . . .

Wasn't it McCain who said, just the other day, that he doesn't see the need for another round of debates "like the 42 we had" (in the primary season), but now he suggests 10 town hall meetings in a span of 10 weeks. Wouldn't that be the same kind of grind, both for the public and for the two candidates? We'll see what they decide and how it works. It would make for great television, however. . . . . .

Oh yeah, about the cookies

So why did I mention peanut butter cookies just below? Because I'm baking a batch right now in advance of Dylan's getting home from the daycare center in an hour or so.

Peanut butter cookies on Election Day

A young woman just came to the front door. "Are you Tom or Steve?" she asked. Assured I am neither, she shook her head and said, "Hmm, these lists are so outdated." Oh, really? Whatever candidate she was pushing didn't matter to me since I voted this morning at 8:30. . . . . .

Too bad neither Obama nor Clinton is in South Dakota tonight. No network live cut-ins, "Live from Sioux Falls, South Dakota." But there should be a couple of interesting speeches tonight, considering how the networks have been talking for the past six hours about whether Hillary will concede or not and considering that Sen. Obama will probably have more than 20,000 in the Xcel Energy Center tonight as he notes the nomination has been clinched. . . . . .

The storms that pounded Pierre and that part of the state during the evening apparently reached our little corner of the state overnight. The radio this morning said we had more than an inch of rain (again!) in Vermillion, but the driveway was already dry when I took Oliver out for the first time this morning by about 6:30. There certainly is no need to water the lawn these days; Mother Nature is doing it on a regular basis all by herself. . . . . .

It was May, not June

Now that I think about it, it was "It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May" from "Camelot" that Jay always sang at the Latin banquet. Right idea, wrong month.

June is bustin' out all over

Isn't "June is busting out all over" the song that Jay Mickelson always sang at the Latin banquet at Riggs High School in Pierre? I think so, but I can't remember exactly why that is the song he sang. . . . . .

President Clinton's appearance in front of Old Main at USD Friday night was delayed for a half-hour or so by a thunderstorm that blew through. But it was nice later. I could hear his voice over the P.A. system from our front door, so Oliver the dog and I took a hike up to the campus and got close enough to see him from the distance. Maybe it's his white hair, but his face always has such a red, ruddy complexion hue to it. Even from a hundred yards or more away! . . . . .

On Saturday I spent seven straight hours at the Vermillion ballpark on the most beautiful day of the year. Sunshine but enough of a breeze to make it not only bearable but very pleasant indeed. Perfect, in fact. I have to write a story about each of those games, also an interview with one of our high school players, also a preview of next weekend's Legion tournament, so I will have a lot of "stuff" in the Plain Talk sports section this coming Friday. . . . . .

Hot enough today so that Dylan got to go to the swimming pool a block from the house with his mom. She said he dived off the diving board at least eight times, and together they rode down the long, curvy slide at the other end of the pool. . . . . .

Heather is playing softball, so she and Dylan are heading over to Yankton for her first game tonight. I'm staying home to cover an amateur game over at the ballpark here. . . . . .

One can tell it's the first of June. All over Vermillion, it seemed, people were emptying out houses and apartments and/or moving into them. Apparently all the rental leases expire June 1. . . . . .

This will be a crazy week. Dylan goes to Bible School at the church in the mornings this week, then to the daycare center in the afternoons. A lot of delivering and picking up this week! And finally the last primary elections will take place, including ours!