Monthly Archives: July 2010

I Have A Snooker Past, Higgins or Davis?

One legacy of my British upbringing is an addiction, affliction affection for snooker. I played it, long enough to stretch a good ways across the 12 foot x 6 foot slate. Went to halls, played for hours with friends Chris Burgess and William Lloyd, all of us over 6-feet tall. I was good enough to be happy, but it never crossed my mind to want to turn pro or even push for it.

Instead, I watched — frame after frame after frame — though never had a desire to go see it in person, which seems odd in retrospect. And Alex “Hurricane” Higgins was one of the players who caught my interest, like few others. (Here’s exactly how I remember him). It was the speed at which he played, and I think I subconsciously styled my game after him. He died over the weekend, aged 61. Seems extraordinary. Penniless and toothless I found out. You know, in a way you don’t actually want to find out. I only looked up his name because one of the podcasts I download comes from Ireland. It had Alex Higgins in the title and I, correctly and sadly, guessed it was about his death. (Other articles, here, here, and a judging personal account here – and some details here, though for an obituary it dwells too much, too eagerly on the flaws, the incidents.

It makes me wonder how some of the other players I knew then; how they’re doing now.

About every good player did catch my interest back then though. Ray Reardon I remember as the oldest. Jimmy White, the fastest. Dennis Taylor the stodgiest – yet with glasses like the ones I’d newly acquired; who somehow got them custom made to be able to see the balls better. Cliff Thorburn and Terry Griffiths are two other names that come to mind as in the mix.

Just the angles, the mental gamesmanship; I distinctly remembering admiring both of those traits in the game. It’s a far game far more centered on defense than pool, and the “snooker” comes from putting the ball behind another ball or pocket angle, so there’s no direct shot on the ball you’ve got to hit next.

Alex Higgins was the Rolling Stones.

The player I admired most was Steve Davis; cool, calm, collected. Red haired, focused. Didn’t care about hurting you on the table. Relentless. Skilled. Not as flashy or reckless. Skilled. The Beatles. The game still fascinates me; news of the game still grabs me. If it was available easily to see, I would. I can watch pool on TV; but i play a great deal more of that.

Snooker or pool, I need to play more. Want to play more. It brings me back to my roots, to my uprooted childhood.

Few hours with contact lenses

Just that, I wore possible new contact lenses for just about four hours today. Tried to jam them in my eyes Monday and took almost 90 minutes I think to get them in. It was uber-frustrating and painful and every now and then on the edge of terrifying and giving up. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life for which I had a choice. Made my eyes swollen and sore and Lerone, who helped me the most said it could be effecting my vision after I finally got them in; that my eyes would get better after a while, after practice.

They didn’t seem to work though I think my left one was inside out. I had all week to put them in, but did not because I didn’t have time to suffer through it and then see everything in blurness.

So today, they wee in and they seemed to work better. The one in my left eye felt better, too. It seemed easier to open my eyes wide enough to get poking, and I could function with them in, but something still seemed off with my vision.

Even though I have no idea how I did it, i also got my lens out in a very short time – about 15 minutes. Replaced the water / fluid / whatever the stuff …

This could work. After today, I would like it to.

Found Camera, in Payson Park

There’s no way I can contact these guys without some serious input of time and possibly cash.

But on July 4, in Payson, after the fireworks were over, I found a camera in the grass. it was dark, it was a minor miracle I saw it.

Just glancing long enough to get some ID, for anyone looking for these photos the name Nathaniel Neddon has appeared. If you’ve searched for your name, I have your 4GB card. And just looking at the date modified dates, these photos cover a few years (which stuns the hell out of me because I download ASAP in case card corrupts or I misplace / lose my camera). So they really might be wanted. By someone.

Answer these questions.

1) Canon or Nikon
2) How many children in photo
3) Name of park where found
4) The mistake I made in this post

Upgraded to WP 3.0


Remind me to watch the video? Tah.

Thanks, Mister Bus Driver

I’ve gotten resigned to the idea that buses will whoosh past me even if I’m close to the bus stop and clearly waving at them as a passenger that I want to get on.

It’s happened a few times.

So, leaving home to go to work – and after waving to everyone in the car as they went to daycare and work – I see the Valley Metro bus pull up into the left turn lane onto the street where I wait. I’m close to e corner. i half-heartedly jog to the corner as it turns, just pretty much as a token gesture. Yet it stopped. I bowed briefly, got on, said thanks you made my day better. And when I got off later I told him I really appreciated him stopping.

I understand that buses can’t stop everywhere; I understand that certain places are dangerous or unsafe to stop. And I did note down the number of the bus, but now I’ve forgotten it.

Masturbation – It’s What’s For Dinner

Or something. This short article about making female masturbation “bad behavior” on par with cutting and low self-esteem, diddles around a bit before a great eye-opening climax:

Sexuality is more like a muscle, and if you don’t use it, you lose it. One reason many women have trouble orgasming in a sexual relationship is they don’t masturbate enough, and they have trouble knowing what works and what doesn’t. Indeed, the research links losing your virginity later in life to experiencing more sexual dysfunction. And anecdotally, most of us can think of times when we’ve been so busy that we don’t have time to think about sex (i.e., experiencing those lustful thoughts so condemned by Christians fundies), and so when we get home and are expected to perform, we have trouble getting aroused. Following the fundamentalist list of sex rules seems like the quickest way possible to drain a marriage of any passion, which strikes me as a bad idea if you want to hold those marriages together.”

Sushi A No-No

Yesterday we went to a sushi place in Scottsdale after Carrie picked me up at work. I want to go back

Egg Omelet, Philadelphia Roll, Rainbow Roll, Spicy Tuna. All chosen to be happy for younger palates. Carrie and I ate too many bites. Eddie and Jack didn’t eat enough. And Eddie REALLY objected to the idea and quietly and stubbornly faced away from the table. When he wasn’t doing that he was playing and dunking his nigiri-sushi in soy sauce. And dunking. And dunking. And dunking. Added tension to what could have been a fun experience. We knew things weren’t going to go well when Eddie didn’t want to bite into the culinary adventure and abject horror that is … a spring roll.


Mostly there was a kid having a bad day, who stayed silent and heard no a lot. It happens, unfortunately. Jack, too, didn’t eat much though he got into the egg omelet later. But he didn’t seem to be having a whole lot of fun, separate from the food at the table.

It was complicated.