Now that is a depressing thought

;

There are some folks who are not happy making money unless others are losing theirs.

SO... what's all this World Cup stuff?

About 40 years ago they took a hunk of mostly marshy land a couple of miles north of town, leveled a bit, filled a bit, added a few trees, some baseball diamonds and soccer fields and with an elan peculiar to my part of the world gave the place the singularly notable name, County Park.
They are good with names here.

This Saturday, for the 33rd year in a row, they will fill the place with kids, about 1,700 of them, and hold the annual soccer tournament. In another impressive display of innovative thinking they call the event, Soccer Saturday.
They are good with names here.

Forget apple pie, baseball hasn't got a chance.... this is America.  It happens all over.... cities and towns holding soccer tournaments.  And listen, if you need a good grin for your heart, there is nothing like watching a bunch of 7yr old boys or girls kicking a a ball up and down the field.

Twenty years ago I was a soccer coach for a U6 team, my son's.  The primary goal in the job was to instruct them on which way to run and that after the half, we would run in the opposite direction. Mostly I was successful.  Two years later I assisted coaching my daughters U6 team.  There the primary goal was to teach the defenders that it was not OK to sit and pick dandelions with the other teams goalie.  I was only marginally successful, but the fun factor, for me.... was even greater.

Our local private organization that runs the deal, with another bit of naming panache, is called.... the Oshkosh Youth Soccer Club.

The OYSC is a recreational program. The youth and their enjoyment of playing, as they are learning the game, is the primary objective of the program. The OYSC strives to put an emphasis on learning and having fun vs. winning or losing. It has been a consistent policy of the OYSC Board of Directors to provide a soccer experience to as wide a range of youth as possible. Every player has a right to play regardless of their skill level.

Well that is a concept I can get my head around.  So for a few years I would get up early on Soccer Saturday, pitch a shade shelter, haul out tubs of ice full of of watermelon, make sure there were orange slices and pretend I was a coach. That took a lot, trust me.

But the real deal.... see, and I don't mind telling you..... I was being selfish.  Truly. It was a day I renewed, cause, just like that old song said...

"Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart"

... and I do.  You cannot watch kid's playing soccer for a whole afternoon with screaming Grannies and Dad's and Mom's... you can never get over a girl who will NOT take her uniform off after the day is over....who falls asleep clutching her trophy instead of her blankie, who looked like, even at such a tender age, like a World Killer.
A Dad cannot get through a day like that without thinking that Life is OK

Now, some of those girls have long since given up playing the game.... and some haven't....but that isn't why they played in the first place.....

...... they just know magic when the see it......


and so do I.

Bodacious Booters!!

Ok, Sports Fan's, this is the stuff!
Now, maybe you were in church or weeding the daisies or picking strawberries or grocery shopping.... well, if you were, too bad, cause, direct from Dresden you missed one of the best moments in SPORTS, BAR NONE!

The USA Womens World Cup team beat Brazil.... in one of the most dramatic finishes ever.  Down a goal, 2-1, with less than a minute left in extended play.... playing short a player for 56 minutes, running their asses off for TWO HOURS..!!!!!! .... and then  a beautiful cross from Megan Rapinoe headed in by Abby Wambach....

... and Hope Solo, brilliant in goal all game... did what she does best in the penalty shoot out  and USA gets a win over one of the premier teams in soccer.

well, anyways.... it is going to be a difficult week..... last week was  difficult.... but tomorrow I get to vote in the 'primary' to get rid of a 'fake' Democrat so we CAN FINALLY get a true recall election on the asshole state Senator in my district.

At least the USA Women gave me a lift.  Good on them.

Beer, Blues and Illegal immigrants..... yowza!

OK.  It;s the 16th annual Beerfest in Beautiful downtown Wixconsin. I think I have gone to about thirteen of them.  It is a real simple concept... thirty or 40 small breweries and distributors bring in about 100 different kinds of beer..... Ales and Lagers and Stouts, oh my..... one ticket gets you all the beer you can drink.  AND... I live within walking staggering distance from the even grounds down by the river.

It is also a great way to meet drunken fools, sample styles of beer and ale only available in limited quantities. This is not for Coors Light drinkers. It is also a charitable event; proceeds are donated to the local Domestic Abuse Shelter.
So.... that is what I am doing tomorrow from 3-7.   Every SOB in town will be there (Society of Oshkosh Brewers) a group dedicated to make strange, exotic and wonderful tasting home brews.

Al and Katy

And another really really good thing about the beerfest is that old SOB, Al, will be bringing Katy and she whips up a fantastic Mango Salsa and some beer bread... yummerz.

So that covers Saturday... and Sunday, if my memory serves me correctly about recovery time.

I have been dealing with illegal immigrants... of a sort. I handle them with a chainsaw.  Basically... there were plants, trees introduced into America for a wide variety of reasons that have taken over or threaten native vegetation. I am cutting down a couple of Russian Olive, Asian buckthorn and a European Black Alder on a friends property.  All of them tend to be very invasive spreading faster than the common cold in a day care. The real trouble is that if they spread too much yu end up with a monoculture of one species with no diversification. The fruit is not good for native birds, the wood is too soft to use and all the species are short lived.  Unlike humans, where diversity is good and enriches our culture.... whatever that is.

Lost Bayou Ramblers

'
OK... I have to tell the truth.... I am not a real big 4th of July fan.  You either stay in town.... with everyone who cannot afford to get out of town.... or you end up in a crowded resort area.... with everyone woho could.  These days I fall into the former category.

I avoided going to the lake front, where our little 'festival is going on.  The odors of midway diesel fuel, fried grease,  and unwashed armpits  rather, ah, turn me off. Plus, all the beer is Budweiser and I hate Bud.  I relented a bit and road my bike down on Saturday, to listen to a little Zydeco.  One hour is all I could handle.  Much to my distress, when I arrived home, I discovered I had lost my checkbook down there, somewhere, in the great unwashed horde.  Needless to say, it threw me into a bit of a funk.  So Sunday I avoided it all and went for and extended bike ride.  When I got back there was a note stuck on my apartment door, "the check is in the mail".... and sure enough... that is where the checkbook was.... nothing missing.  Someone found it, tracked me down from the address and returned it.  Maybe there is a clean conscience int he unwashed horde.

I relented on going to the lake front yesterday.... stopped at Lee and Denise's to see what they were up to.  "Tuba Dan, at 12:45," is what Lee said. "Main Stage, be there!"  Now, Tuba Dan is a Polka Band, I think they have been around since 1874 or such.  But Lee gets a bit obsessed with things and the latest is Polka Music, so there I was at 12:45 soaking up a sound that well, I would rather not.

So.... have a limited 'om-pah-pah' tolerance we rotated between the polka band and the Cajun music on the other side of the park lagoon.  Now, there are some similarities between Cajun and Polka... but they are best not talked about.  Cajun is much more fun, and as far as I know, there are no polka bands with fiddles, so right away the advantage is to Cajun.  And the Cajun food is better.... really... ever try Red Beans and Cabbage?  No no no no.

But that was it.  Small times, small towns.  Trust me... it is not all that bad... and the check is in the mail.

have to hurry.... there is a parade to watch!!

....... and I have to go salute the flags!!

Dirty Hands, Supremes, and a damn good burger

OK... it's been a beautiful week in Downtown Wixconsin.  Supreme Court Justice David Prosser, who barely won his seat in a contentious election and recount saga, has been accused of arguing and choking fellow Justice Ann Bradley.  Of course, he said it was in self defense.  Last year he got into into it with Chief Justice Shirley Abramson, calling her a 'bitch' and threatening to 'destroy' her.  Back then he said the woman 'goaded him into inopportune statements.  Whoa!  You can read a bit more HERE. 
Anyways...
last week I ran into Dirty Hands Randy...I hadn't seen him for about a year...and, gosh, there he was again!!  Now, two things about Randy...one, he always seemed to have a job that left his hands permanently, ah, soiled, no matter how much he would scrub them.  He was  a roofer, and asphalt spreader, dyed cabinets in a factory, hence the name. Secondly, he is the most benign alcoholic I have ever known.  When some get too drunk, there is the possibility for violence, rude behavior... when Randy is drunk, which is more often than not, there is more than a remote chance of Shakespeare ,Keats or Nietzsche...with perhaps quotes from Casey Stengel thrown in for color.
So there I was, ensconced on a cafe table at the Farmer's Market enjoying a fresh egg sandwich and lo and behold, he graced me with his presence, and grace is all it can be, for despite his pock-marked face, his tight, taut girth, his resplendent wardrobe that varies in only the shades of gray or black t-shirts he favors, there is a quality about him and  to his voice that can only be described as a belch, conducted by Bach, breezing through canyon walls. "Jim," says he,"you look well and fit!" This, as if he had just seen me a week previous. "All things considered," I replied, "things are ok.  I thought you were in Rehab?" Which is the last I had heard. "Ah, it did not take. Some things are not meant to be. ' Adversity tests us from time to time and it is inevitable that this testing continues during life.' I read that somewhere," he said... "I don't remember where." He grinned a grin, said, 'hold on' left for a minute and returned with two Bloody Mary's.  The next hour was an explanation of his time trying to dry out at the VA Hospital in Chicago... his escape from there, his stint at working in a Group Home in Gary, his return to Wisconsin, a brief job at a meat packing plant in Madison and his return to Oshkosh for the roofing season.  There were queries about my kids, our mutual friend Fritz.  All in all, it was a good conversation.... and before he left I gave him my phone number and the promise of a few beers some afternoon.  Now, that may happen, or it may not... he did say something about the fishing being rather good up around Eagle River.  To quote Casey, there is something about Randy..."He could fall into a sewer and come up with a gold watch."

 Lastly, a friend has given me a great tip about the bar down the street, a place I would never frequent, the music being too loud and the patrons too prone to slamming dice on the bar, that serves excellent burgers.  Indeed, he was correct... a mushroom swiss third pounder with home made chips for only $4.50.  Thank goodness for carryout.  Now if I could just get Randy to run for the Supreme Court......