Those Lakers Again!

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My meandering disquisition (previous entry) on the practice of missing was part of my attempt as I was taking my afternoon walk to puzzle through the question: What is Wrong With the LA Lakers? I probably should have been thinking about: What is Wrong with the Economy. But that’s just too depressing and frankly I am clueless. So thinking about the Lakers is a less depressing option, if one must think about something, though in its own way depressing.

I have been watching that damn team for almost 30 years. That means I have made an emotional investment, and I have wished lately that I had not done so. Much like the stock market, the Lakers lately have seem to full of inexplicable ups and downs.

My aggravation coalesced when listening to the TNT basketball show with Ernie Johnson, Kenny "The Jet," and Charles "Chuck" Barkley. They were discussing, in light of the Laker’s recent performance, whether the Lakers had what it took to win the championship. They were far from sure about that, and then Barkley, rather out of nowhere, said, in effect that even if they did win the whole thing, they didn’t deserve to win.

The whole conversation for a basketball show then got weirdly serious. What the hell did Barkley mean? Surely, if you win the championship you deserve it. But no, Barkley said, the Lakers, he said, did not deserve it if they did win because they "did not respect the league." Now, what the hell did that mean?

Then Barkley got a bit more personal–some sort of psychological issue was involved for him. He never was on a team that won the championship, and he said he had never had the opportunity to play with players as good as Pau Gasol, or Andrew Bynum, or even Lamar Odem (all on the current Laker team), and it just pissed him off to see them playing so half-assed. He pounded the desk, as I recollect, and seemed almost to be growling. The others–EJ, "The Jet", and C. Webb (Chris Webber)–didn’t seem to get it either, or at least not enough to say whether they agreed or disagreed, although they did allow that something seemed amiss with a team that felt it could turn it on or off at will.

Here I was, at that time, feeling all messed up about my identification with the Lakers, and there was Chuck too involved in some sort of complex psychological relation to a team that awakened in him a sense of loss at never even had the opportunity to play as the Lakers might play were they ever actually to apply themselves.

In any case, that’s the Lakers for you.

Or, more precisely, that’s Kobe because he is the heart of the matter, and right behind him at the heart, is that strange fellow, Phil Jackson, sitting there in his elevated chair (that he needs for his back problem) looking like a wan and decaying Buddha

The Practice of Missing

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For some reason, my high school teachers and my coach wouldn’t praise me. They wouldn’t criticize me either. But they felt it was OK to tease me. Well, it was. Teasing for me was water off the duck’s back. In any case, I would rather be teased than not mentioned at all. I remember one season, they had the award ceremonies to give out the letters for that year and they were given out by the Vice-Principal who lived just a little up the hill from us. And rather than praise me for my feats he teased me, saying, that I made a pretty good rooster, since I would wake up the whole neighborhood at six AM shooting baskets, and if there was such a thing as a rooster in reverse, I would make a good one of those too, since people knew when they could no longer hear me shooting that the sun had gone down.

I don’t think any of that was true. I would continue to shoot well after the sun had gone down. You didn’t need to be able to see the basket to shoot the ball; you just had to know where you were on the court. I stopped shooting mostly because when it got really dark I was deprived of the pleasure of seeing it go through the hoop. And I don’t think I ever got up at 6 AM to shoot baskets, though some days on the weekends I would start pretty early. And maybe they could hear me a little bit since I had a backboard made out of plywood and it would produce a thunking noise, sort of like a bass drum. But I can’t believe I woke up the whole neighborhood, though, I guess he must have heard something so as to make up this rooster bit.

But the point here isn’t that I got a letter or was teased while getting it, but that the Vice Principal knew I practiced day and night. And I did from eight 8th through 12th grade. I practiced whenever I got the chance out back on my dirt court off my plywood backboard. I didn’t have great ability. I didn’t grow as tall as I had hoped I would; I was skinny lacking strength and not that good a jumper. I never dunked the ball. Not because I couldn’t get that high but because I couldn’t palm it. My hand wasn’t big enough. I would get it up there and drop it or bang it off the side of the rim and put myself at risk in doing so. But I figured if I practiced enough I could make the team. And I did and I lettered two years.

Practicing is its own art form; and as such, I became a pretty sophisticated practicer. People who are sophisticated practicers know there comes a point when the person devoted to practicing practices missing. This might seem odd. Surely, the point of practicing basketball is to practice making the basket. Why, yes, of course, but the long distance practicer will tell you that sometimes one misses in an interesting way, and one decides to see if one can miss again in that particular way. The very, very sophisticated practicer may do this at any time; in my less sophisticated and less athletic way, I practiced missing mostly when I was tiring. OK, so I was too tired to make it, but in the meantime I could practice missing. Sure the point is to make it go in, but barring that–at least momentarily–one could keep at it and set as one’s goal–making it go exactly where one wanted it to go.

Practicing, from the perspective of this particular philosophy of practice, insures that one never actually misses. And that–that–is what keeps you going after the sun goes down.

Phew!

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The workings of my memory grow increasingly odd. The Jesusita Fire more or less officially ended a little more than a week ago. It doesn’t seem that long though. This last week feels like a blur. I don’t remember much about it. I think I was recovering from the anxieties and fatigue that the fire produced. So while we were out of the fire, I wasn’t out of the woods so to speak emotion-wise.

The fire was pretty damn transfixing, and why not? From Tuesday to Saturday, when the mandatory evacuation orders were mostly lifted from downtown, the thing burned, in the words of the officials, out of control and completely un-contained. It moved at the whim of the winds and the local officials appear to have had no control over those whatsoever.

I felt pretty confident, I guess–considering the fire was out of control and moving at the whim of winds over which the officials no control–that Carol and I would come out of it unburned. After all, the hills nearest us had been pretty much burnt out in the Gap Fire. But that–considering the fire was out of control and moving at the whim of winds over which the officials no control–didn’t seem to guarantee immunity. And we did know people–such as Brother Dan and family–in much more immediate danger than ourselves.

I felt pretty drained from just watching and hanging on.

Carol bumped into a medical doctor she and I know at the place where she gets her hair done. He gets his hair done there too; he’s a doctor so I guess he has the money to go to a fancy place. And, why not–he has a lot more hair than I do.

Anyway, he endured a harrowing experience. He decided, after telling his wife that he would be right along, to stay behind to protect his home, a well constructed adobe and he had done all the fire abatement stuff as well. Turns out: not a good idea. He got caught in the Thursday night fire storm, whipped up by those winds. He was trapped, as were a number of fire fighters. They all holed up in his house. He believes were it not for his doubled paned windows that they would have all died. They did not burst; consequently fire didn’t get in the house. But they got very, very hot and could hear the oxygen containers on the trucks blowing up. Fortunately, he, as a doctor person, had oxygen in his house, and were it not for that he thought also, they would have died.

He told Carol he wished he had not stayed. He wouldn’t do it again. I think it was one of those experiences–of the kind that happens to people in the movies–that can wake a person up years later in a cold sweat.

His wife said, if he ever pulled anything like that again–you guessed it!-she would have to resurrect and then kill him.

Possibly Agitated

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Well, only a couple of hours after Brother Dan left yesterday to walk into his house the mandatory evacuation order was lifted.

They report today that the fire is 55% contained. Because the marine layer has moved in, the weather continues to favor the firefighters.

Tomorrow, however, the temperatures will climb again, and another sundowner is possible. Still currently the fire is far from homes.

The fire started this last Tuesday at about 1:30 PM and expectant anxiety prevailed until the weather changed and mandatory evacuation was lifted for most all of the population.

At one point, apparently, fearing for its life, a black bear bounded out of the burning brush in the direction of populated areas. An official warning was issued: Beware of Black Bear, Possibly Agitated.

That gave me a laugh.

How can you tell if a black bear is agitated?

Poke it with a stick.

Day 4 of Fire

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Let’s see.

I think it’s Saturday. We woke to gray skies. The marine layer has moved in and that’s good for fire fighting.

Yesterday was also better with much lower temperatures and higher humidity. The temperature only got to the lower 70s here, while the day before the airport registered 101 degrees, the highest on record for that date.

Still, the officials are not allowing people back into areas evacuated. So Brother Dan and Nephew Dylan spent the night with us.

It’s almost 10 pm here and Nephew Dylan is still asleep on the floor downstairs.

Brother Dan, however, took off for home. He had breakfast at a place not far from his home, and the last time I spoke with him, he was going to walk the three blocks or so into his house.

Some sources believe people will be allowed to "repopulate" the evacuated areas some time today.

This has been a very trying week so far.

A headline in the LA Times read something like: "No One In Santa Barbara Unaffected by Fires." That’s probably not true, but 30,000 people were evacuated and another 20,000 spent the last few days waiting to evacuate.

One of the recreational buildings at the university was turned into an evacuation center; the other, run by public health, was turned into a center for people with physical problems.

problems.

An email from a friend suggested most all of the students have cleared out of the area. Most of them of course do not live in SB so they headed out to more pleasant circumstances and cleaner air. 

Damn Fire!

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Well, Brother Dan and Nephew Dylan spent the night camped out on our floor. Sister-in-law Kim and Niece Savannah checked into a motel up in Santa Inez. Dan stayed in SB in case he had to go to work and Dylan in case he had to go to school.

They had to evacuate around 9:30.

We have passed a disturbed and disturbing night.

The fire evacuation area has spread to with a mile or two of us, but across the freeway from us. The freeway is now the primary fire break.

Another anxiety producing day appears in the works since once again this evening very high winds are predicted and temperatures in the 90’s.

As far as we are able to determine, Dan’s house is still standing.

 

Fire! Update

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As I sit in my office to see if any students come by, the temperature is 87 degrees at just about 1 PM. That is unseasonably high for us, and yesterday the temperatures did not peak out till around 4 pm when those "sun downers" hit.

Those remain the primary concern at this moment re: the Jesusitas Fire. It carried away numerous homes last night. And may do so again should those winds kick up. More people and planes are out working the fire today trying to blunt the effects of another "sun-downer."

Almost all the students in my class at 10 heroically showed; this was certainly a day that might have not showed and I would have understood. They are all first year students and living in dorms with no air conditioning. They looked very wiped out.

Dan, Kim and family are still OK. There home is located right under the sign that says 192.

 The local TV station is doing a good job updating.

FIRE!

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Well, I spoke way too soon.

About three Pacific Time, I began to feel a little ill. For some reason, I checked the weather. It was 97 degrees. The winds were also high.

I decided to check the news.

The Jesusita fire is raging now out of control as of 5 PM Pacific time.

I believe Brother Dan’s home is located in a mandantory evacuation area. I called him and he was on his way home. He didn’t know the situation yet.

He said he would call when he knew something.

The winds are gusting to 60 miles an hour.

The TV images are terrifying and you can hear the terror in the voices of the announcers, some of whom have homes in the affected area.

Terrible.

Fire Again!!???

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Another fire broke out and I spent the better part of the evening watching its progress on TV. The initial prognosis was not that good. The experts were expecting winds gusting to 50 miles an hour. And I was all the more alarmed because Brother Dan’s house was in an evacuation warning zone. Thankfully, this morning the fire appears under control although the temperature is again anticipated to be high and those high winds called "sun downers" may appear again in the evening. This morning Brother Dan sent an email reading in part:

Fire in the hills above SB. Nick called,Karen (muminlaw2),Pat called, we had quite day. The fire started around 130pm and keep on through the night, still going on this morning. From the house across the street we saw fire balls hailing down, a good mile away from any residence. So far no one has been hurt. Our old hike ground, LA Jesusita, was where the fire took place. Foothill was shut down today with fire trucks going up and back.

They are calling the fire the Jesusita Fire since it broke out near the trail Dan mentions where he occasionally takes his exercise.

That’s four significant fires now since the summer of 2007. First, the Zaca Fire, one of the longest burning in CA history, that rained down ash on the city for two months. Then at the beginning of last summer, the Gap Fire, that hovered in the hills above where Carol and I lived and kept knocking out the power for over a week. Then the horrible Tea Fire destroying many homes in the Monticeto Hills. And now this, the Jesusita Fire, small by comparison to the others, but still at moments within a half a mile of heavily housed areas.

Experts say fires have increased globally in frequency and ferocity over the last thirty years. They think global warming may be at the heart of it; and as it turns out, fires contribute to global warming, a factor, according to a Professor at UCSB, that has not been figured into models predicting the impact of global warming.

 

Pig Flu

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Perhaps to distract myself from thinking too much about the already serious and perhaps soon to be much more serious disease, I sit around wondering why they are calling it the "swine" flu. When is the last time you have heard anybody say, "Well, time to slop those swine." Or: "Boy, did I swine out today!" I mean to ask why the heck "swine" and not the much more common, even mundane "pig." I read somewhere that pig farmers today prefer to be called pig farmers and not swineherds. So why not "pig" flu.

Well, maybe that’s it. "Pig" is just too common. Swine has an archaic sort of ring to it. I think a person might prefer to say, "He sickened and died of the swine flu." That sounds somehow, perhaps because distant, better or more dignified, than he sickened and died of the "pig flu."

I don’t know if this reasoning works though. I think "swine" the much more nasty word. It sounds nasty for one thing, and I personally would rather be called a "pig," if it came to that, than a "swine," especially in light of the nasty phrase "swinish behavior." Right now for example the CEO’s of those corrupt businesses that drove the economy into the hole would be, to my lights, much more justly described disdainfully as "swines" up to their necks in swinish behavior rather than pigs up to their necks in piggy behavior.

The people who sell pigs are upset even by the word swine since some have gotten the idea that the swine flu is caused by eating swine or pig and so have stopped swining out. The pig people want to change the name to the 2009 HINI flu. Like that has a chance in hell of catching on.

Really I don’t know about that claim that pig farmers prefer not to be called swineherds. I don’t get it because, while of course swine might, at one time, have been shepared about like sheep farming pigs isn’t the same thing as herding them. In fact there were swineherds, much like cowboys except with pigs instead of cows, that would herd the pigs from places like upland South Carolina down the dirt roads to Charleston back in the 1700’s.

I can just see it now, "Roll’em, Roll’em, Roll’em, Keep them Swines a Rolling." Must have been quite a sight coming down the road.