my goal was to play 365 sets of tennis in a year AND I DID IT!!!!!

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Saturday, November 18, 2006

Why a Tennis Blog?

Of all the things that I could possibly blog about, here I am starting a tennis blog when maybe I should be trying to work toward world peace (you know, like Miss America does) or perhaps trying to feed the hungry, stop global warming or cure cancer? No, my purpose on this earth is to advance the all-important causes of irreverence and frivolity (hence, the title, "Stuart's Irreverent and Frivolous Tennis Blog"). So that explains the burning question in your mind, "Why irreverent and frivolous?" Here are answers to other questions you may or may not have.

1. "Why 'Stuart'?" Because that is my name. And the name of my uncle before me. And the name of a whole bunch of archaic English monarchs. And that guy who is OK with himself (the one who is played by Al Franken) who used to be on Saturday Night Live and even made a crappy movie.

2. "Why 'Tennis'?" Ahhh, grasshopper. You ask the important question. Let me tell you a story. Actually, it's not much of a story. Yesterday, this strange idea popped into my mind that my New Year's resolution should be to play 365 sets of tennis in 2007. Immediately that scared me. So I decided to slightly cheat by starting early, for two reasons. One, it will give me a handle on whether I can actually play a set a day over the course of a month and a half. And two, it will give me a cushion to get past the inevitable various and multiple injuries that I will incur over the course of trying to play beaucoup tennis. So I really have 365 days plus a month and a half to play 365 sets. Maybe, for background, I should tell you a little about my tennis history. I played a little bit in high school, and, inexplicably, liked it. I wasn't, like, on any tennis team or anything, but I played some, especially in the summertime. This was strange mainly because I have never been into sports one bit. Prior to this time, I was usually the last kid picked on any team at school, and so, as a result, became a "P.E. passive resister." That means that whenever I had to play baseball, for example, I would stand out on the field wherever they sent me, and when the ball came my way, I would just let it roll by. This brought me wicked and twisted enjoyment even as it led to unavoidable violence on my person. What the hell, it was worth it. Fast forward to college. For quite some time, I had thought that anybody who exerted the least bit of physical activity was stupid and deluded. My college roommate and his friends would go home, and I would sit in my dorm room and eat (eating even more to make up for them not being there). One day, against all entropic forces present in the universe, I actually went running with them. Well, since then, I've run in the Capitol 10,000 almost every year, ran to and from work a great deal, taken up swimming, bicycling, and other stuff that involves physical activity. Though my attitude up until the "moment courant" was somewhat slothful, I was never a total slacker (just one more instance of my failure to meet an important goal). Throughout high school, I had five paper routes that I delivered on my bicycle. Let's move forward even more, to the point where I have two young daughters and am trying to figure out how to keep them amused. Since i am a single dad, I am always looking for ways to keep my kids busy. My oldest started taking up tennis when she was about 7. She would go to her group tennis lessons once a week, and my youngest would watch her, just itching to play. One day a kid didn't show up, and the coach invited my youngest to come play. She was so excited, she leaped in, and of course, at age 5, could barely hit the ball, but she loved it. Well, to make a long story short, I started playing with both of them, oldest got bored with tennis, and youngest took it up and is now in championship division, though she recently decided to either quit or take a break. And somewhere along the way, I started playing on my own, with actual adults (disclaimer: nowhere in this useless treatise is contained a comment on the emotional maturity of myself or any of the "actual adults" that I did or did not have tennis relations with--I am simply remarking that many of the people that I play with are old enough to drink themselves stupid and throw away their vote legally). My tennis activity got more and more pronounced and\or notorious, leading to the aforementioned New Year's resolution. And with my youngest daughter not playing right now, I have even more time to devote to playing. There you have it, TMI.

3. "Why a 'blog'?" Dunno. I'm friggin' bored, I guess.

OK, there it is, all laid out like silverware on the table. I will try to post my results, impressions, absurd conjectures and mysterious irrelevant predictions about future catastrophic events (well, maybe not so many of those), and anything else that I come up with as I go along; some of it, hopefully, completely unrelated to my professed purpose here. You will get to see whether I meet my goal or miserably fail, and what causes and stimuli led to either outcome. Maybe I will just trail off into oblivion like most nobly-intentioned blogs (does that adjective even apply to this one? is it even a word?), eventually stopping my comments and leaving behind a dead and skeletal Web page with virtual cobwebs everywhere.

And one caveat: Only an initial or a pseudonym will be used to describe my opponents, to protect them from the consequences of their actions. They know who they are. They can't hide from themselves. Boo-yah. Let the games begin.

4 comments:

Unknown said...

What is this? Un Chien Andalou? It is part of a pixies song, and I have always wondered. I know chien is dog in french, but that is it. Great selection of books and movies, music too. Zappa was the man, i am still tempted to write him in in presidential elections.

Stuart Gourd said...

"Un Chien Andalou" (also known as "Andalusian Dog" in English) was a silent movie made by Salvador Dalí and Luis Buñuel in 1929. It was known for its highly disturbing images of the type that had not been seen in movies up until that time, such as a scalpel cutting into an eyeball, and ants swarming an open wound. It was the only attempt by Dalí to create his surrealist art in movie form.

Stuart Gourd said...

I saw Frank Zappa several times, including two back-to-back shows at the Armadillo that were completely different. His shows have had some of the most awesome live performances I have ever seen and usually went almost all the way through with very few pauses between songs. I hear that Dweezil just brought his "Zappa plays Zappa" tour to both Houston and Dallas just this last weekend; I would bet that was a sight to see.

Stuart Gourd said...

I was in a band for a while that used to play some Zappa songs
(along with many originals and stuff by other people); the band was called "What the Fuck Are You Looking At?" We had a four-year-old drummer, Morgan X (we had another drummer too), and one day, I was in a convenience store with Morg X and his dad, and the kid was telling the convenience store clerk, "I'm in a band, do you want to know what the name of it is?" The convenience store clerk just kind of ignored Morg and kept talking to me and his dad for a few minutes. As we were leaving the store, Morg whirled around, and yelled at the clerk, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?" Morg's dad and I burst out laughing, and the clerk was just kind of dumbfounded...