College Football and Memory

When I started following sports as a kid, I was fascinated by the Dodgers. I hated them, but with that cool stadium, the uniforms, and that LA vibe, I mean, wow. To me they were LA so when I heard some of the older folks starting to reminiscence about the “Brooklyn Dodgers” and that d*** Walter O’Malley, I found their bitterness hard to comprehend. I was seven, the Dodgers were always LA, and these old guys needed to stop living in the past. I didn’t ask them if they tied onions to their belts when they went to the games in Brooklyn, which I heard was the style at the time.

I think I understand them better now.

They have broken up the Pac-12, my conference since I was a kid, for spare parts to feed TV schedules. I’m reminded of Karl Marx and his quip about capitalism changing our social relations.

Living in Arizona, the Pac-12 was the dream. Day-trips out to LA to catch whoever ASU was playing. Five hour drive, hit the In-N-Out Burger in Palm Desert, both driving out and coming back. Living in Arizona you had a love-hate relationship with LA and with California in general, call it an inferiority complex. However, sitting in those stadiums! There was the Rose Bowl when the sun started to set behind the San Gabriel Mountains. Then there was the LA Coliseum. Al Davis was right when he called it a dump, but to go to a game in that place was as close as a western boy was getting to Yankee Stadium

Then there were the weekend trips to places like Eugene and Corvallis. Strange lands of green landscapes, humidity, and this water falling from the sky that they called rain.

That was the Pac-12, our conference, for us westerners. We were in a time zone that played games when the rest of the country went to bed. Games played in places that were either paradise or big sky. Now we are going to places where people want to escape from: Cincinnati, Oklahoma, Iowa.

A little while ago, a friend of mine reminded me before there was a Pac–12 there used to be a Pac 10. In fact he remembered there used to be a Pac-8 before 1978 when they let in the hicks from Arizona, and wow did the rest of the conference kick up a storm. What I saw as permanence was in reality a snapshot in the midst of constant change.

As my friend said, you had 45 years in the Pac, that should be enough. Things change, life moves on.

This Fall, there’s going to be a kid who starts watching college football for the first time and he will think that it’s normal for USC-Rutgers or ASU-Cincinnati to be a conference game. That’s okay, I can live with that. That belongs to him in the same way that for me the Dodgers belong in LA.

However, I’m never going to a conference game in Cincinnati.

Worthwhile Listening

Some recent musical discoveries and a few old favorites.

Riflemen of Bennington, The Committee of Correspondence

Sadness as a Gift, Andrianne Lenkeer

Yosemite, Molly Tuttle

It’s Allright, Emily Keener

Runaway Train, Roseanne Cash.  I’d assumed that this song was written by one of the Cashes, but it was actually written by John Stewart, whose version is here.

Shenandoah, Dave Alvin

Beautiful Trouble, Tom Russell

Hong Kong Boy, Tom Russell

What Work Is, Tom Russell

Broken Hearted Mama, Eric Andersen

Love is Teasin’, Marianne Faithfull

Visible Signs

My daughter and I have done a handful of long road trips over the last few years, especially after Texas sensibly lifted the most onerous COVID restrictions. For many of these trips we preferred to take country roads; various two or four-lane routes which meandered through miles of Texas back country, hopscotching past small ranches and passing through small towns of varying degrees of prosperity. One thing we often noticed in passing was a scattering of Trump banners, many of them weathered and obviously left over from the 2020 campaign. It was a hard-fought campaign; obviously many Trump supporters out here in flyover country remained sore about the steal. Also rather obviously, residents in rural Texas aren’t worried about random retaliatory vandalism to their property or vehicles by displaying such political partisanship.

Read more

The Death Star of the Electoral System

It’s only 61 days until the election, and in reality even less given early balloting. It’s going to be a “wild ride” that will probably go well into January. For now I want to focus on just one piece of the larger picture and that is ballot security.

I came across an article in Tablet, Broken Ballots, which compares our electoral system to that of Somaliland and let’s just say we don’t even meet Third World standards.

It’s a good read in general and his line “The new American voting system is practically calibrated to produce mistrust, and to create broad segments of public opinion that believe the whole thing is fake—regardless of who wins” hits the nail squarely on the head.

However there is one point that sticks out, one that I have been pushing for the past four years, which states:

“Unlike Somalilanders, most Americans no longer have to physically show up at a polling place to vote. Instead they have the choice of filling out and submitting their ballots beyond the observation of election officials, which means there is no assurance that the people in whose names ballots are cast actually signed—or saw—their ballots, voted free of duress or the promise of some benefit, or are even still alive.”

Bingo. Down to the last letter.

Read more

Reagan Memories

Coupla things have jogged me into writing this post. First was the finding an old “Reagan For Governor” button in one of my dresser drawers a few days ago. There are many things that have been lost for decades lurking within those drawers. Still looking for my German Volksmarsch medal I got for walking 25 km one Saturday  along the Moselle (culminating with a beer and a bratwurst!) during my Army days so long ago.

Second was seeing the great biopic starring Dennis Quaid today that opened in theaters a week ago. The movie reminded me of a lot of Reagan stories that I had forgotten.

Read more