tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10750270431939392152024-02-07T05:56:52.150-05:00DarcysportDarcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-71220568366683579132011-12-09T11:41:00.000-05:002011-12-09T11:41:35.850-05:00The Perfect ApologyDo we know it when we receive it? What are the components of a perfect apology? Does just "Sorry." qualify? What if you feel a person minimizes their apology by adding an excuse or an explanation? Does it mean nothing, then?<br />
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When I feel like I want or need to apologize to someone, I do feel like I am most often already hurting over having hurt someone. I want to make it better. To make it right. I want to heal the hurt and convey that message: "I'm deeply sorry that my words or actions hurt you. I want you to know that hurting you hurts me. And that I wish I could take it back."<br />
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I dunno. Maybe there is more "me" there than there should be. Maybe I make it too much about me. Maybe it's ME who finds fault with every apology. Wouldn't that just be wonderful? No. That would just be me. Not so wonderful.<br />
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There are no perfect apologies. No pure motives. There is hope in forgiveness, though. I know that. If you don't have mercy and forgiveness, you've got nothing.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-17044025926226074552010-12-04T17:41:00.007-05:002010-12-04T18:28:10.513-05:00It Hurt.Back in March of this year my back started hurting. It became very difficult to bend at all and then straighten up. I've had back pain off and on since I was 21, and it always went away eventually, but this got worse. So much worse. I finally sought help from a chiropractor, then an orthopedic surgeon, who referred me to a pain management doc, and then finally ended up in physical therapy.<br />
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At its worst, the pain I had was excruciating. I would get lengthy, paralyzing spasms that would drop me to my knees. I walked around carefully hoping to avoid spasms. Many, many times they just grabbed me and then I'd be sore for the rest of the day, and also susceptible to having more. This was the scariest thing I've ever gone through, physically. No, it's nothing like having a life threatening illness --- I'd never compare it to that. But it briefly took away a lot of my optimism and my joie de vivre. I didn't think I'd get better, even with surgery as an option.<br />
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I learned a lot about myself (I'm stubborn, prideful and impulsive!) and those close to me during this. I also got a glimpse of what it's like to be in pain and feel like you're burdening people too much talking about it. It's a terrible feeling! Thankfully, there were very few people around me who made me feel that way. And maybe they didn't, by the way, "make me feel that way". Maybe it was my stupid pride making me feel that way. (See? I believe I've learned something.) In any case, I hope I remember this feeling when someone I love is in pain and needs to talk. And talk and talk and talk. Please let me have learned that lesson!<br />
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Thankfully, I didn't jump into surgery. I listened to the pain management doctor (and a very bright friend on Twitter,<a href="http://twitter.com/SarahWW">@SarahWW!</a>) and went to physical therapy. I listened and made a rational choice rather than an emotional choice borne out of pain. And the good news is, I'm mostly pain free now. Some niggling aches, but I'm moving around freely and I'm almost ready to get back to regular gym time. There are many times I shake my head, thinking "Would I have gotten better if someone had pointed me to PT first? How can this have been so simple?" I don't really know. I only know that I'm grateful for getting there and for the results.<br />
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What I really want to say is: Thank you. Thank you for being there. Thank you for asking about me and writing me, calling me. Supporting me. Thank you for caring. Thank you for lifting me up when I was down. I needed that. <br />
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It hurt. But getting through it was so much easier with the support I got through it all. I won't forget it.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-24148250114680449762010-09-29T16:30:00.001-04:002010-09-29T16:37:04.653-04:00Happy Birthday, Daddy<object height="385" width="640"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EGDt59XOPDA?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EGDt59XOPDA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
My Dad would sing this song better than this, I think. Well, he sang it in a more sober fashion (haha!) - Dean is being a little silly here. But I like this clip because my Dad's voice was very Martinesque. And who didn't love Dean Martin?<br />
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Love you and miss you, Dad.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-47911614745968784832010-09-28T20:45:00.005-04:002010-09-28T22:26:14.539-04:00The Beautiful, Crazy, Agitating, Addictive Twitter Vortex.I've been sucked into it for a while. And I've loved just about every minute of it. I've made some real friends there. I'm touched by that and I cherish those friendships and the sharing of bits of our lives those bonds bring. <br />
<br />
I met my earliest Twitter friends through the <a href="http://www.althouse.blogspot.com">Althouse</a> blog. I used to read and comment on several blogs daily, some of them written by friends, like <a href="http://www.trooperyork.blogspot.com">Trooper York</a> and <a href="http://bitmaelstrom.blogspot.com/">The Bit Maelstrom</a>. I have several other people I consider friends who are now writing wonderful blogs too. Check them out - they're in my blogroll. But my Twitter interest and friends have spread way beyond that to include a lot of people I think of as friends. I think you all know who you are...yes?<br />
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The vortex of Twitter has consumed a lot of my time though, and I'll admit that I know that I can get obsessive about different internet interests. This isn't the first internet source I've spent what I consider too much time on. So I don't really know if the Twitter Vortex is contagious or widespread. Could be just in my living room. Heh.<br />
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Anyway, I need to try to set some limits for my own good. I've noticed particularly with the elections coming up, that my Twitter feed tends to agitate me a bit more. I feel like my tweets read as shrill and cranky. I know that I've retweeted some pretty shrill stuff. It could be just my perception, but even if it is, that in itself agitates me. <br />
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So, here's what I've decided: I'm going to try to set limits, and for the friends who care and have been so wonderfully attentive and concerned throughout my Twitter days, I thought I'd explain it, is all. Plus, writing it publicly puts me on the hook a little to actually, you know...do it. <br />
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If you're reading this, I want to thank you so much for caring to read what I have to say on Twitter. My goal is to still be there, but offer less agita and more pith. Most of all, I want stay connected with my friends. They're the best part of Twitter for me.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-58674188143634783092010-09-14T11:20:00.004-04:002010-09-14T12:42:39.934-04:00My Last Tennis Post?It could be.<br />
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I've been a sports fan for as long as I can remember. If you share my love of sports you know that part of the experience is the commentating and reading about your favorite athlete or team.<br />
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Baseball and tennis have been my great loves most of my life. I've adored my Detroit Tigers and my Björn Borg and Ivan Lendl. My whole family is sports nutty. I recall that when I moved to Florida at 19, my younger sister sent me newspaper clippings about the Detroit Tigers. Back then we were somewhat able to pick and choose what we read about our sports, and even had to search hard if we wanted to read about the Tigers while living in Florida, so those clippings were precious to me. I still have them!<br />
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I don't want to get too deep into the ugliness that has somewhat involuntarily seeped into my brain surrounding the tennis rivalry of my favorite player, Roger Federer, and the current world number one, Rafael Nadal. Suffice it to say that I know that I've allowed myself to read too many fan and sportswriter thoughts over the years. It's killed the joy of the sport for me. How sad, that my thirst for reading about this great sport has played such a big part in killing it for me.<br />
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Now, you can say that's my fault for reading it or reacting to it, and you'd be mostly right, I guess. I think I could make a case for a particularly ugly period amongst tennis fans and people who are paid to opine about the sport, but I won't. I think the people who follow tennis and pay attention to all of this will get me.<br />
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I think tennis is one of the most athletically challenging and beautiful sports to be found. I love to support it. So much so, that I'll bug people on the NY subways to talk tennis with me. I'm sure I've annoyed plenty who follow me on Twitter with all of my tennis tweets. I hope I will still try to promote the sport. The game itself deserves it.<br />
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I'm just tired. I'm giving up following my sport for a while. I'll still watch my favorite player's remaining matches (he's 29 - in this sport that's near retirement), but unfortunately with commentary muted, to my great disgust. And that's it. I'm done. <br />
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To the victor go the spoils.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-91210219137946468612010-07-29T19:01:00.000-04:002010-07-29T19:01:10.646-04:00Proof of LifeI can't believe that he's gone.<br />
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A fleeting thought that I can't even explain the genesis of drove me to google an old flame last night. The oldest of serious flames, really. And the very first item that came up was a newspaper article about a man of the same name dying in a motorcycle accident last year. Too many coincidences added up in the article, and the dread settled in as I found his memory page on the web.<br />
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I gasped when the page came up. It was him. Some gray hair and wrinkles, but the same warm, smiling face. I browsed the slideshow of pictures spanning his obviously very full, joyful life.<br />
He had children and step-children, and grandchildren...a Harley! The pictures portrayed a life well lived. Far too short, but well lived, indeed.<br />
<br />
I've pondered all day as to what exactly has touched me so deeply about this. It's not a loss to me, in any kind of everyday real life sense. Certainly a loss at some level, I guess. But what I really think hit me hard is the question that I've known has been bubbling to surface since I laid eyes on that memory page: What will the pictures of my life portray to those I leave behind someday?Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-59459789371667732302010-07-28T18:49:00.010-04:002010-07-28T19:02:00.617-04:00Sarah and the BearI'm smiling after reading <a href="http://tgr.ph/a2L7VU">this</a> article about Sarah, Todd and Piper Palin encountering a mama bear and her cubs just a couple of feet from them as they salmon fished. While the article mentions the Palins were "stunned", I must say that they appear very poised in the photo. That doesn't surprise me a bit. <br />
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Coincidentally, a friend and I had just been talking about Jimmy Carter's famous fishing encounter with a ferocious, attacking, swimming(!) "Killer Rabbit" a/k/a Killer Water Bunny. The official photographs mentioned in <a href="http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/950/what-was-the-deal-with-jimmy-carter-and-the-killer-rabbit">this</a> article don't do the menacing rodent justice, so I decided to use a cartoonist's rendition of the encounter for fairness in comparison. Here we go...<br />
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Sarah and the Bear:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01687/Palin_1687306c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01687/Palin_1687306c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Jimmy and the Killer Water Bunny:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://winaresort.com/images/killerrabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://winaresort.com/images/killerrabbit.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I'll leave it at that.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-19527606925102928802010-04-22T00:17:00.010-04:002010-04-22T15:29:26.638-04:00Snips and snails and gecko tales.About that gecko...<br />
<br />
I read today that GEICO has fired voice talent Lance Baxter AKA "D.C. Douglas", heard in several GEICO commercials, over some voice messages he left at FreedomWorks. <a href="http://www.freedomworks.org/">FreedomWorks</a> is a limited government advocacy group linked to the Tea Party. According to <a href="http://www.mediaite.com/online/geico-announcer-fired-for-calling-tea-partiers-retarded-potential-murderers/">this</a> article, Mr. Douglas left some nasty messages where he called Tea Party protesters "mentally retarded" and speculated whether protests would lead to someone getting killed. The article goes on to say that FreedomWorks then put Mr. Douglas's voice mail messages online and asked their supporters to call GEICO to complain resulting in the firing of Mr. Douglas.<br />
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This story has troubled me since I read it on Twitter via <a href="http://twitter.com/teh_Dede">@teh_Dede</a>. I don't like what Mr. Douglas did and what he had to say. He was wrong to do what he did, even though he says he was motivated by the belief that there were racial and homophobic slurs hurled during the Tea Party protest right before the health care bill vote. But did he deserve to have his messages publicized, his employer contacted (through a campaign) and then fired? I struggle with that answer, I really do. This reeks of scorched earth and tit for tat, and in my gut I feel it's wrong. <br />
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I don't have to like what Mr. Douglas has to say or what he believes. I don't want to defend it, and won't. But I do have to live in this country with people who will disagree with me AFTER I hope we see a big correction in our government leadership come November. I'd like to change hearts and minds, not bash over the head. <br />
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I've never been to a Tea Party protest, but I've always been proud of my fellow Americans, whom I've felt were representing me. They're great patriots to me and their interests are largely mine. They're out there showing the country that change can be brought through peaceful, thoughtful protest. This is what I want to continue to support and to associate with the Tea Party, or conservatism, for that matter. Getting people fired for relatively mild political statements doesn't fit those ideals for me, personally.<br />
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Now I know the Tea Party didn't do this. FreedomWorks and their supporters did. But they're going to be linked to the Tea Party as if the whole movement is behind it. That's the way the media works. Whether we, as supporters of this movement or conservatives in general, nod our heads in approval matters.<br />
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I am a proud Tea Party supporter and a political conservative. I am not nodding my head.<br />
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ADDED: I tweaked the wording a little. I'm not trying to say this one thing will ruin the Tea Party movement or the conservative message. That would be silly of me. I'm saying that I feel a responsibility to say that I don't agree with this. On either side. And I hope it's a one-off thing and that conservatives and Tea Party advocates with a fair amount of power like FreedomWorks continue to focus on thoughtful protest and dialogue in hopes of persuading on the issues.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-48114630240931832182010-02-19T17:07:00.008-05:002010-02-20T10:46:48.560-05:00Silly stuff.My son and his cousin of the same age went to stay with their older cousin at her dorm for a "family weekend" at Michigan State a couple of weekends ago. We had at least an hour drive home from there, so, having the two teenagers captive (hehe) I worked on prying some bits of their weekend out of them. I was mostly unsuccessful, but I did get this little back and forth which, silly person that I am, I found very amusing.<br /><br />Apparently, his cousin (the one his age) had some, er...intestinal gas. Okay, he's pretty known for this. Can I say farting? Oop. I just did. Anyway, so apparently his cousin farts. College boyfriend of college cousin remarks on it. My son thought that the word used by the college boyfriend to describe it was hilarious. He just couldn't remember it!<br /><br />Son: "He said ____'s fart was....<em>beastly</em>, or something like that. No, that wasn't it."<br /><br />Me: [laughs] "Try to remember!"<br /><br />Son: "Hmm...<em>epic</em>? No...darn it."<br /><br />Me: "EPIC!" [laughs]<br /><br />Son: "That wasn't it! I don't know...<em>efficient</em>?"<br /><br />Me: [laughing so hard that I can't breathe...boys laughing at me laughing]<br /><br />Efficient!Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-5289518574437978062010-01-09T15:24:00.006-05:002010-01-09T15:38:25.112-05:00Wine and song...Well, I blogged best friend Amy's birthday dinner, so I thought I'd slip in a few words about mine (from last night).<br /><br />My sister Moira and Amy came over last night to spend the evening at my place for my belated birthday celebration. They put together a wonderful steak salad, brought some wine, and then after dinner we all sat down to watch "Mamma Mia" together.<br /><br />The wine:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPgUsZDgHtBdMCJE6u-enAfpH-RrvSNc7yS7EUe4OgcEMS2mA-bqm0gDADC6Qv-Mf2IPRqgZdOF6FtrhWNutSOH8NygW6jXyQDGjdTocGNnCa4YrF-vCRWDkTlKGSO0X_0oWdv7wckSo/s1600-h/Photo0425.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPgUsZDgHtBdMCJE6u-enAfpH-RrvSNc7yS7EUe4OgcEMS2mA-bqm0gDADC6Qv-Mf2IPRqgZdOF6FtrhWNutSOH8NygW6jXyQDGjdTocGNnCa4YrF-vCRWDkTlKGSO0X_0oWdv7wckSo/s400/Photo0425.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424840255044269234" /></a><br /><br />The salad:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3GXG2lz04s8uw2mmH6reuMFvgKxcivFQSsnos6PkDyWEnZiX5KPm2n0eTb3F0r2YG7ld4ine9vQbfR7RvNaaE6ySAbJRWLqT99vwR72VQG1FYFx_4PeXXMsz-FdPyV597eS3aZYlt8c/s1600-h/Photo0423.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3GXG2lz04s8uw2mmH6reuMFvgKxcivFQSsnos6PkDyWEnZiX5KPm2n0eTb3F0r2YG7ld4ine9vQbfR7RvNaaE6ySAbJRWLqT99vwR72VQG1FYFx_4PeXXMsz-FdPyV597eS3aZYlt8c/s400/Photo0423.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424840582746539618" /></a><br /><br />The song:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkG341T5_g1WfTxyr3aeTVhRArLle5aF0YCHv3ZsUAFsmtMtYA3iyj5hJuKcRaGFT63l4NL476z0sSBjKxU7zr_pumDjmsQ5pAddfG7vkXrPGXaIrZG_0-SFR9oY_3XLM6vLR-V2eROM/s1600-h/Photo0431.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkG341T5_g1WfTxyr3aeTVhRArLle5aF0YCHv3ZsUAFsmtMtYA3iyj5hJuKcRaGFT63l4NL476z0sSBjKxU7zr_pumDjmsQ5pAddfG7vkXrPGXaIrZG_0-SFR9oY_3XLM6vLR-V2eROM/s400/Photo0431.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424841890514027794" /></a><br /><br />Thanks, you two! What a lovely evening. XODarcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-68067296929470714832010-01-03T10:23:00.005-05:002010-01-03T11:22:39.755-05:00Terms of EndearmentThis holiday season, I've opted to immerse myself in happy thoughts. The political goings on that I've been following, coupled with recent terror threats had me on edge and...dare I say --- a bit crabby? Heh. So, following some recommendations on Twitter, I recorded all of the Thin Man movies, watched a bit of a Three Stooges marathon, and followed it all up with a Looney Tunes bonanza on the Cartoon Network. Ahhh...the therapeutic effects were amazingly successful.<br /><br />The combination of these movies and cartoon/comedy shorts got me thinking a bit. What is it that makes me feel good about a show or a movie? Well, the easy answer is a happy ending. I'm definitely a sucker for that. But there are truly sad movies I'd watch over and over as well that seem to lift me up in the same way.<br /><br />Pondering this, I began to formulate a list of (at least somewhat sad) movies that I loved, but probably couldn't take watching again, along with a list of similar movies that I had no problem viewing over and over.<br /><br />First, the list of movies I thought were excellent, but have not viewed again:<br /><br /> 1. The Deer Hunter<br /> 2. Frances<br /> 3. Family Business <br /> 4. Life is Beautiful (though I'd really like to try to watch it again)<br /> 5. The Untouchables (I'm sensing a theme here..hehe.)<br /> 6. The English Patient<br /> 7. Braveheart<br /> 8. The Last of the Mohicans<br /> 9. Million Dollar Baby<br /> 10. Bang the Drum Slowly<br /><br />Now, the list of the movies I will sob my head off watching, but can't help but view over and over:<br /><br /> 1. The Green Berets<br /> 2. Affair to Remember (Some may call this a happy ending. Me? Not quite.)<br /> 3. Terms of Endearment<br /> 4. Ordinary People<br /> 5. Legends of the Fall<br /> 6. To Kill a Mockingbird<br /> 7. Penny Serenade<br /> 8. Imitation of Life<br /> 9. Stella Dallas<br /> 10. The Alamo<br /><br />That's just a start. Are there any that you would add to either list?Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-85125156218253057452009-12-25T17:47:00.002-05:002009-12-25T17:50:41.697-05:00The "Kids"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrdP-rBrskijvJBMQRafMGOZcCx6xorj86bvmhWMgGqdWRwV3PtNYGo0rcYeNQOZpZZnj1e27KbdROQ7IP1QV7BPCY8lsA6cyrkMILNCX-Lm4ZxOaUvD1Qy6qrQBm5l8oLq783GXZXKE/s1600-h/Photo0348.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrdP-rBrskijvJBMQRafMGOZcCx6xorj86bvmhWMgGqdWRwV3PtNYGo0rcYeNQOZpZZnj1e27KbdROQ7IP1QV7BPCY8lsA6cyrkMILNCX-Lm4ZxOaUvD1Qy6qrQBm5l8oLq783GXZXKE/s400/Photo0348.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419309829905833890" /></a><br /><br />My son (second from right) and some of his cousins. They're all getting SO big. Makes Aunt Darcy all misty.<br /><br />Merry Christmas!Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-22228819650105778842009-11-06T10:21:00.010-05:002009-11-07T16:09:12.931-05:00A joyful event.My sister Moira and I celebrated our best friend Amy's birthday last night with her. We all love oysters, so we trekked out to Ann Arbor to this place:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzdLjhJ4LyaqY7_L_7vlT06_vNahlwy9Lpg5UNl13cynssVSxPMb0pCg4Y4jFkJj4Y98R2FM8Q2G5Ab8QWI-sKBaXf4ISDPz13dGrgDrsWJkpwhJfgXxPcS5sdCkHUibRU15u5VbDe4k/s1600-h/Photo0159.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzdLjhJ4LyaqY7_L_7vlT06_vNahlwy9Lpg5UNl13cynssVSxPMb0pCg4Y4jFkJj4Y98R2FM8Q2G5Ab8QWI-sKBaXf4ISDPz13dGrgDrsWJkpwhJfgXxPcS5sdCkHUibRU15u5VbDe4k/s400/Photo0159.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401011828494437282" /></a><br /><br />Soon had glass of this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULLIAeORBAfnRXAWMyqF-tE0p8zC5ME8fdClNVJ7Jm9-EedSSSGGRupi6w5i1iC3NflQfDkxopX0_a90DUE-_3_IoKdrGA5nxF4jvotSXGYjv2KWani0Qfq_rSi7bfpFgrFKIWzmwQpY/s1600-h/Photo0172.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULLIAeORBAfnRXAWMyqF-tE0p8zC5ME8fdClNVJ7Jm9-EedSSSGGRupi6w5i1iC3NflQfDkxopX0_a90DUE-_3_IoKdrGA5nxF4jvotSXGYjv2KWani0Qfq_rSi7bfpFgrFKIWzmwQpY/s400/Photo0172.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401012180860869554" /></a><br /><br />Followed by a plate (okay, two plates!) of these. They were luscious. The menu had at least 10 varieties. So fresh and mouth-wateringly good!:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_5GgY3NnB7Tbx46o_nyYQaLK71SOTTbD-Dd8MIgf84RTS4hmxCVo0NAmiSsRCtCTgzVV3kR6UruFqrjIjYXHvQSjpcpq0HP3p9xE-e4TZBj9kqD75uciMD9TqRdwUh0QRsIs5JABTS0/s1600-h/Photo0173.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw_5GgY3NnB7Tbx46o_nyYQaLK71SOTTbD-Dd8MIgf84RTS4hmxCVo0NAmiSsRCtCTgzVV3kR6UruFqrjIjYXHvQSjpcpq0HP3p9xE-e4TZBj9kqD75uciMD9TqRdwUh0QRsIs5JABTS0/s400/Photo0173.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401012670270992994" /></a><br /><br />Happy birthday, Amy! Love you lots.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7ARxtfyccwwtg0ZqEkMFTl4u2mUEE1u1Iha1MskEbZy-vOpN_O36QLM7QYnXztlSCHWxbGsK7sFYyP7KAqu6jCBJByQ1sl4j5Cj6DTzpDZJoRwtMmpUa6l96292I803gq4rSBeXQVI8/s1600-h/Photo0188.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt7ARxtfyccwwtg0ZqEkMFTl4u2mUEE1u1Iha1MskEbZy-vOpN_O36QLM7QYnXztlSCHWxbGsK7sFYyP7KAqu6jCBJByQ1sl4j5Cj6DTzpDZJoRwtMmpUa6l96292I803gq4rSBeXQVI8/s400/Photo0188.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401013017519615442" /></a><br /><br />We had a wonderful time, giggling like we always do at our past hijinks. I never giggle more than with these two. <br /><br />We also had a wonderful selection of Zingerman's cheeses with their own bagel crisps, served with some grapes marinated in balsamic vinegar and...something else sweet. Yum. And some cream of wild mushroom soup that was to die for.<br /><br />I have some additional pics up on <a href="http://twitpic.com/photos/Darcysport">Twitpic</a> of all of us. Also a pic of the poster announcement of Elizabeth Kostova attending one of their "Vampire Balls". Cool. I loved her book "The Historian". Creepy and wonderfully entertaining. And deliciously long. I got lost in it, and was very sad that it all ended with the last page!Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-61190320726045820512009-10-25T16:14:00.006-04:002009-10-25T16:21:48.008-04:00How breakfast is done...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS5bgHgQ6rHMOu-bgRjRhyeaJ88TfNNmxR2AmJVHlAX1slODLj1NJ8b1cDsyYEqoRzMA_jBuKMfwahiEl8nEwTwAQxG7CGjZ5skBO-KNYboNPM7BWL0TVmZ4XJ_qA-LfsHzEns-70WcY/s1600-h/009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS5bgHgQ6rHMOu-bgRjRhyeaJ88TfNNmxR2AmJVHlAX1slODLj1NJ8b1cDsyYEqoRzMA_jBuKMfwahiEl8nEwTwAQxG7CGjZ5skBO-KNYboNPM7BWL0TVmZ4XJ_qA-LfsHzEns-70WcY/s400/009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396634532372952994" /></a><br />At my brother's house. My sister and I stopped by on our way up north for the weekend recently and were treated to this spread. Now that is how breakfast is done. Delicious! My brother is a wonderful cook. He's a wonderful brother, too.<br /><br />Here is my plate (yes, I had two pieces - I'm not crazy!). Had a slice of pumpkin chocolate chip bread, too:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I0pBawsG8NBcaMTBxecm_Xzrjsfxqcd5vPtN8oO3wfevfUgJi3kARZtZcNz0ClcZcdRbq8x-wWGxE5fC8eBIfoo1blAGpXvsAjs1A2gFDzL94VaVMdOl4K7GdKNoIt6iAhxSg57kByw/s1600-h/012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I0pBawsG8NBcaMTBxecm_Xzrjsfxqcd5vPtN8oO3wfevfUgJi3kARZtZcNz0ClcZcdRbq8x-wWGxE5fC8eBIfoo1blAGpXvsAjs1A2gFDzL94VaVMdOl4K7GdKNoIt6iAhxSg57kByw/s400/012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396634706215444258" /></a>Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-67325765855132346962009-09-21T14:42:00.009-04:002009-09-22T22:55:31.302-04:00I love NY!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01481/del-potro_1481554c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 460px; height: 288px;" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/01481/del-potro_1481554c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I promised chickenlittle I would write about my U.S. Open tennis trip to New York. Very late, but here it is!<br /><br />I love NY! I get excited about this trip months in advance. I may live close to a big city (Detroit), but the truth is that I'm a very small town girl. I grew up on a pretty small island in the Detroit River. I now live in a decent-sized city, but it's more like a sprawling small town. No real "downtown" to it, so NYC is just, well, hugely exciting for me. I feel so alive there. And that's me, New Yorkers, that you see looking like a star-struck tourist on the streets most of the time. Looking up at the beautiful buildings and people watching. Overwhelmed at the choices of cuisine. Smiling big. Barely able to make a selection in the small cafes. I don't care! You can laugh at me or smugly let me know that you're on to me (Mr. Cashier at the cafe), but I assure you that I'm drinking all of that in with appreciation, too!<br /><br />I'm primarily there for the tennis, but I can't escape the city, and don't want to. This year, my tennis pal Jane and I stayed near the Waldorf at a hotel called "Affina 50". What a beautiful place! Every employee was cheerful and helpful..the room was huge and luxurious (at a disgustingly cheap rate thanks to a friend of Jane's), and the place was immaculate. I had a choice of one of 7 pillows to sleep on! I felt like singing the "Green Acres" tune. Heh. I also enjoyed the eight block walk to the hotel from the subway every single day and night. Oh, and I enjoyed the subway too, how's them apples? <br /><br />One night when Jane and I decided to head back to the hotel early, we were faced with a little dilemma: no ESPN tennis coverage for the matches that evening. Now, we knew that the Tennis Channel was airing the matches, but we had little hope that we'd find a bar that carried the Tennis Channel. Well, we were wrong. We popped into the Hyatt and the hostess there told us that yes, they did have the Tennis Channel and would have tennis on this evening. We happily continued to the hotel, aiming to freshen up and dress a little nicer for the Hyatt bar. But lo and behold, right on the corner of the block of our hotel was a lovely hotel bar with...the Tennis Channel on! We still got gussied up, but it was a convenient stop with delicious food and a nice crowd. Have I mentioned how much I love New York?<br /><br />I guess I should get to the meat of my trip - the U.S. Open. If you are a fan of live tennis at all, this is the place to visit. The grounds of the United States Tennis Association's Billie Jean King National Tennis Center (whew!) are clean and beautiful. The crowd is enthusiastic and happy. The food is very decent, too! I had mostly sushi and Indian food, but they have crepes and pasta, salads, Ben and Jerry's ice cream, just to name a few things. Not your run of the mill hot dog stands. And...for refreshments, along with the usual soft drinks and bottled water, you can find Grey Goose (ohhh..oh, yum) stands, a wine bar, and a beer (Heineken) joint. <br /><br />While attending the matches, my small group of friends from all over the country (and one who came from Israel this year!) would text each other all day and meet up at different matches. I'd watch one match with my lovely friend Jackie from Chicago, the next with my good pal from New Jersey, Sam...and occasionally, a whole mob of us would take in a match together. These are some of the most precious tennis memories I have. Being with friends and enjoying our favorite sport together. Believe me, I feel blessed, no matter what happens on the court. This is what it's about for me.<br /><br />I've met most of my tennis friends through a blog I discovered - <a href="http://tennisworld.typepad.com/">Peter Bodo's TennisWorld.</a> Pete is a senior editor at Tennis Magazine and just a great, friendly, wonderful guy. A bunch of commenters from his blog got together on the Saturday night I was in NY for dinner and cocktails. More than a few who showed had never even met the rest of us. What a perfect, joyful evening we had! We closed the place...mostly because there just wasn't enough time in one evening to say all the things we wanted to say or to get to know the people we'd just met. But the time we spent was clearly enjoyed by all.<br /><br />This piece is getting long, and I haven't even discussed the actual tennis yet! I should at least mention that I did get to see Juan Martin Del Potro play live, and I knew he was going to be tough to take out. I'm sorry that my fave lost in the final, but not too sorry...tennis has a new star and a worthy winner.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-59233300896202362232009-09-11T15:03:00.008-04:002009-09-11T15:44:03.617-04:00Flight sensitivity.Trooper wrote about his recent, very touching flight home <a href="http://trooperyork.blogspot.com/2009/09/leaving-on-jetplane.html">here</a> and reminded me that I wanted to write about my recent flight as well. Mine was touching in a different way.<br /><br />I sat down at the gate to wait to board my flight to NY last Friday and began my usual people watching. Yeah, I'm the gal you can usually catch staring. I'm not trying to be rude - I just find people fascinating to look at and wonder about!<br /><br />A man sits down across from me and I immediately notice him because he's talking kind of loudly into his mobile phone's earpiece. I notice that he is middle aged, a bit on the chubby side, not unpleasant looking, but dressed kind of sloppily in wrinkled old jeans and a button-down shirt. (He's also Jewish, I see, because he is wearing a yarmulke.) I want to see this guy get a makeover! Ah, first impressions...<br /><br />Later, and well into the flight, I hear the flight attendant bell and notice two rows in front of me that a guy is in obvious distress. His wife is panic-stricken. I worry that he's having a heart attack, and it's just awful to watch for a few seconds. Until...two doctors appear at this guy's side and begin treating him, along with two nurses who have jumped up to help. The guy is in great hands, I can tell, and I also notice my sloppy guy at the gate is one of the doctors! Immediately transformed in my eyes to this super-studly hero! Makeover no longer necessary, trust me, as I stare at his now very handsome, warm face. I don't think this is a superficial thing. I think it's human nature, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Everyday heroes really are beautiful and an awesome sight to behold. <br /><br />I watch, gratefully, as these medical personnel treat this man and calm him and his wife until we can land at LaGuardia to the waiting paramedics. And then I watch the heroes of this flight blend back into the crowd...and I smile with satisfaction and admiration.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-8822935306263658822009-07-19T19:50:00.002-04:002009-07-19T19:55:19.137-04:00Plenty of beer.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQNZXDl9tvBHR1Kgiwg-FYxGOp7fupfWU2ST-54QsM9rvEVS-NYLiIwpVrbwr1zlifmVL3ZNcesQOzxEczfyiyxnmLQ5C1DH3UhwHFKxutc6rQLfqE78BuygJtyCYUAzF9Mi82_HPaE0/s1600-h/scan0019.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQNZXDl9tvBHR1Kgiwg-FYxGOp7fupfWU2ST-54QsM9rvEVS-NYLiIwpVrbwr1zlifmVL3ZNcesQOzxEczfyiyxnmLQ5C1DH3UhwHFKxutc6rQLfqE78BuygJtyCYUAzF9Mi82_HPaE0/s400/scan0019.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360323186686794658" /></a><br /><br />Good times here. My grandparents were partiers! That's them in the back on the left. My dad is on the end on the right with his...uh, girlfriend. Not my mom! Hmmph. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPXg9M0DEo3LEOwtkjt-3JJ8tjqa1DZhkGnrIaEnB9LdnrOo7m7DtkeucRDL7K-xlFJlXOjDyKFra-jCB9SKEWpzbhbHwSF763dOmQraNkbdHG7cAOEy_kVeJspPYJFllP8N1SUR3tSjU/s1600-h/scan0018.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPXg9M0DEo3LEOwtkjt-3JJ8tjqa1DZhkGnrIaEnB9LdnrOo7m7DtkeucRDL7K-xlFJlXOjDyKFra-jCB9SKEWpzbhbHwSF763dOmQraNkbdHG7cAOEy_kVeJspPYJFllP8N1SUR3tSjU/s400/scan0018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360323180991412898" /></a><br /><br />This is where they were for the evening.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-76998548845592695622009-07-19T13:38:00.005-04:002009-07-19T14:12:43.685-04:00My Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg42KKCKKPzitupOaCCQ9Bol5c4P80Fp49eIVNZepdCBzlduJa7YcazvvC_p059lN81jRYfWlWDlPZOcow5NFOmcYfQps1UUbvhpYUSuMqz0O6feVpB5wpPMIEbpFHMMfYT0wqGTZe_CdI/s1600-h/scan0016.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg42KKCKKPzitupOaCCQ9Bol5c4P80Fp49eIVNZepdCBzlduJa7YcazvvC_p059lN81jRYfWlWDlPZOcow5NFOmcYfQps1UUbvhpYUSuMqz0O6feVpB5wpPMIEbpFHMMfYT0wqGTZe_CdI/s400/scan0016.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360228430184484546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejJfVDxg1XTqQUKSxAcGs9nGZbupWmmihlmETmqoTUehET9ekFeHuyZTa_zrDTgYl-2-VHfs8BK3Tcecnp6wai9I9H2K44lccOg0rePCOVLYXOxWh_ku19UKhIxa9stS2FGYAMadp1QY/s1600-h/scan0017.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 330px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejJfVDxg1XTqQUKSxAcGs9nGZbupWmmihlmETmqoTUehET9ekFeHuyZTa_zrDTgYl-2-VHfs8BK3Tcecnp6wai9I9H2K44lccOg0rePCOVLYXOxWh_ku19UKhIxa9stS2FGYAMadp1QY/s400/scan0017.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360228428128217010" /></a><br /><br />This first pic looks like it was probably taken around the same time that my Dad went to war. They grew up together in Detroit, went to Denby High School together, dated and then broke up. My Dad lost her to another guy for a while...she married and had my oldest siblings - but her husband died very young. My Dad swooped in. I'm not kidding. LOL.<br /><br />The second pic of my Mom is one of the few glamour shots of her. She was not a glamour girl. Beautiful, but much more into sports than makeup!Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-84952839537684143452009-07-19T13:30:00.004-04:002009-07-19T13:38:24.477-04:00My Dad. My WWII hero.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7kNtR9lMZGPPUPa8chHeGyDflxe4HLPAQvYr9qXkjWC8aXSLL8qxJimN5fj2V7bx7s5c3wnavWKsmcoPYFEoTE22IbGl1e0oyCupa00urAMhqNC9pY2Y4Ds87vQsNwI4gvGWpQ5VyBk/s1600-h/scan0015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7kNtR9lMZGPPUPa8chHeGyDflxe4HLPAQvYr9qXkjWC8aXSLL8qxJimN5fj2V7bx7s5c3wnavWKsmcoPYFEoTE22IbGl1e0oyCupa00urAMhqNC9pY2Y4Ds87vQsNwI4gvGWpQ5VyBk/s400/scan0015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360226608818160610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCf0cRyvrTM3Pj0rRkpOoPPTMMv36oaXMTKhw2Ykpvz4YFgg4z56WGTLgV_mRKTFUt3fWSs3GHdOcxz4JTzlEIEFgyumMAcSfwfd_3cMZe8YWYNE6anDvDIutxy6nwezSpP0xdC3aVwQ/s1600-h/scan0013.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCf0cRyvrTM3Pj0rRkpOoPPTMMv36oaXMTKhw2Ykpvz4YFgg4z56WGTLgV_mRKTFUt3fWSs3GHdOcxz4JTzlEIEFgyumMAcSfwfd_3cMZe8YWYNE6anDvDIutxy6nwezSpP0xdC3aVwQ/s400/scan0013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360226613473884562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtd5zdPVkvPf5nM1rPJINA7z836WNRTYJKEt5gQxthEkR6U3y-eM8MdjY66Qv6x4K3rOrVoIdRHPKdkLnwHjSBxc0c0m65fzCYXwiUow7_rJJCpI6eYkUOqXcDJ2dFzdmoNdNka3FaqvA/s1600-h/scan0014.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtd5zdPVkvPf5nM1rPJINA7z836WNRTYJKEt5gQxthEkR6U3y-eM8MdjY66Qv6x4K3rOrVoIdRHPKdkLnwHjSBxc0c0m65fzCYXwiUow7_rJJCpI6eYkUOqXcDJ2dFzdmoNdNka3FaqvA/s400/scan0014.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360226618709807426" /></a><br /><br /><br />This isn't the best pic of my Dad, but I like it because it looks like it was taken outside his parents' home in Detroit. The second two are scans of a postcard my Dad sent home in 1944. I know he shipped off from San Diego, so I wonder if this is his first postcard from the war to home.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-15789392304191550122009-07-05T13:56:00.006-04:002009-07-05T21:18:47.646-04:00He did it!!!! Congratulations, Roger!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://d.yimg.com/a/p/afp/20090705/capt.photo_1246815681422-1-0.jpg?x=400&y=319&q=85&sig=SLUfowZSgA1aMq.rCFusHQ--"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 319px;" src="http://d.yimg.com/a/p/afp/20090705/capt.photo_1246815681422-1-0.jpg?x=400&y=319&q=85&sig=SLUfowZSgA1aMq.rCFusHQ--" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />Wow. Just an amazing match. My head is still spinning over it. 5 sets. 16 games to 14 in the last set. Epic. Rollercoaster match, with momentum switching back and forth until the fifth set, when game after game, both men stared down a "sudden death" by valiantly holding their serves until the 30th game. Yes - the 30th game in one set! Roger broke Andy to win the Championships. I screamed. Both men deserved such high praise for this effort that I was sad to see someone lose. Warriors. Both of them. <br /><br />I truly hope Andy gets the next one. He so deserves one after this effort.<br /><br />Oh, boy. The record for most grand slam singles titles ever (15) was claimed by Roger today edging Pete Sampras, who flew there just this morning to be there for the momentous occasion (how classy was that?), and...Roger is now the world's number one ranked player once again! He had relinquished the number one ranking to Rafael Nadal last year shortly after losing his prized Wimbledon champion status to the same. How sweet it is for this fan that he was able to reclaim it.<br /><br />Sports dreams don't get much bigger than this for me.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-36335467899614886902009-07-03T14:06:00.009-04:002009-07-03T14:47:55.832-04:00Oh, Andys!!!!American Andy Roddick took on Great Britain's (Scottish) Andy Murray today in the semi finals of Wimbledon. Roddick was the big underdog here, and Murray was not only the favorite, but saddled with the enormous hopes hung on his young shoulders by his nation, desperate for a British champion since Fred Perry won in 1936, beating - I just realized - the lovely Baron Gottfried von Cramm (!), whose handsome face is my Twitter background.<br /><br />I like both of these players very much, so I had a tough time figuring out who to root for. My emotions swung wildly during the match.<br /><br />So my take on this match is that Murray went into it tight under the weight of expectations. Roddick won in four, needing tiebreaks for two of the three sets won. I don't think Murray played like he could, but Roddick played such superb, mature, focused tennis that I hate to take anything away from this win. It's huge. Roddick now into his third Wimbledon final, but not since 2005. I don't think many serious tennis analysts thought he'd get there again.<br /><br />I'm so proud of Andy Roddick! Well done to him. Unfortunately, I can't root against Roger, who also won his semi final match today making it to his 7th straight Wimbledon final.<br /><br />Go Roger!Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-21439143942202260692009-07-02T11:10:00.004-04:002009-07-02T11:46:42.005-04:00Elena Lost!!!8 games to 6 in the third set. I'm so...disappointed! So close. I think I'd rather she got blown off the court.<br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />I predict a Williams sisters final, which I'll skip. I used to watch these, but they have become boring, and I couldn't care less who wins. I know that's not really supporting the game, but enough is enough. It is times like these that I understand the apathy toward Federer. <br /><br />So...Dinara Safina vs. Venus Williams now for the final spot in the finals. Just pencil Venus in, there. <br /><br />Do I seem crabby? Yeah, I am. LOL.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-37929617824305048722009-06-30T21:49:00.004-04:002009-06-30T21:56:50.060-04:00Elena D is still in the tourney!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6trQe3LhNJ8/SQAj-LywjCI/AAAAAAAAFBE/4kLVfjjJrkI/s400/elena.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_6trQe3LhNJ8/SQAj-LywjCI/AAAAAAAAFBE/4kLVfjjJrkI/s400/elena.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />You guys are missing out. Elena Dementieva of Russia will be playing a semi-final match vs. Serena Williams on Thursday at Wimbledon. She's a terrific player and has been one of my favorites for quite a while, mostly because she seems very sweet and genuine. Wish her luck!<br /><br />In other news...Roger faces Ivo "Dr. Ivo" Karlovic of Croatia tomorrow in the quarterfinals. This guy is nearly seven feet tall and serves out of...well, a tree. I'm worried.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-73916596083165771852009-06-27T10:42:00.011-04:002009-06-27T11:32:36.873-04:00Tommy, Tommy Haaaaas!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.whineandcheese.net/photos/hotties/thaas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 305px;" src="http://www.whineandcheese.net/photos/hotties/thaas.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />Went for the glamour shot. Heh. How could I not?<br /><br />This is Tommy Haas of Germany. He's a veteran tennis player at 31 years old. I've always loved watching him play, but have only sporadically rooted for him. I don't know, something about his attitude (and pretty boy looks, maybe?) turned me off. But now, at the end of his career, I find myself rooting for him mostly for sentimental reasons. It does help that he has a beautiful one-handed backhand, which for me has always been a big attraction as far as tennis goes.<br /><br />Tommy was hailed early on as the next Boris Becker in Germany, along with Nicolas Kiefer. Neither lived up to the hype, and honestly, after reading some of the German pressers I have felt for both of them. The German press has been brutal on both them as far as expectations and disappointment goes. Tommy did reach a ranking of number two in the world, but has never won a Slam title. In addition to this media pressure, Tommy's parents were involved in a horrific motorcycle crash at the height of his career. They were apparently very lucky to be alive, in fact his dad was in a coma, and the recovery for both was a long process. This had to have a devastating effect on his concentration. (As a side note, by the way, his parents are friends of Arnold Schwarzeneggar's, and Tommy received a call from him following the accident.)<br /><br />Haas has also suffered a shoulder injury which led to surgery on his rotator cuff. This kind of surgery is usually career ending in tennis, but Tommy worked extremely hard to come back to the tour and is still in the top 30. A couple of years ago, he was warming up for a match at Wimbledon and stepped on a tennis ball that had rolled in front of him as he was practicing serves. He sprained his ankle and had to pull out of the tournament. Ouch. Some very tough luck for the German over the years.<br /><br />In the last major, the French, Tommy was up 2 sets to love against Roger Federer and was close to breaking Roger's serve in the third. Roger somehow pulled that match out, partly due to some drop in Tommy's level of play, and it had to be a heartbreaking defeat for the German. Not many 5 set matches are lost after winning the first two, and the term "choker" is often applied after such losses. Rather unfairly, I think.<br /><br />Tommy unfortunately had to re-live this same scenario at Wimbledon yesterday. He led Croatia's Marin Cilic two sets to love and then lost the next two. They were 6-6 in the fifth when the match was suspended due to darkness. Most hard core tennis fans were glued to this match today as they resumed play, trust me. My heart was beating fast as I watched Tommy serving for the match at 9-8 and then face a break point! He saved that and went on to win, 10-8.<br /><br />What am I doing rooting for this guy, by the way? He's in Roger's half of the draw! He also won a pretty prestigious grass court title coming into this year's Wimbledon. I guess, like Scarlett, I'll choose to think about that tomorrow.<br /><br />(By the way, the "Tommy, Tommy Haaaaas!" comes from some silly cartoon my kid used to watch where the fighting characters would yell something like "Kamekameha!" I never figured out what they were saying, but I would yell my little reply and drive my kid nuts. Hee.)Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1075027043193939215.post-37263349600989220412009-06-26T14:03:00.002-04:002009-06-26T14:29:41.091-04:00So I was browsing around and.....ooooh!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31N_9lJRmj-gyx2srzU_Jt_cYFlIyWyzC4puRQCziwytj_fudMyrqFbZC3857GepMLDtkP0F63Dhas5z-LX3o3uwFOikIWEv0shZxK05wmXhz42wCjoqzToEN2MNT-9G6A9OmDN44jWw/s1600-h/610x.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31N_9lJRmj-gyx2srzU_Jt_cYFlIyWyzC4puRQCziwytj_fudMyrqFbZC3857GepMLDtkP0F63Dhas5z-LX3o3uwFOikIWEv0shZxK05wmXhz42wCjoqzToEN2MNT-9G6A9OmDN44jWw/s400/610x.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351705238340634594" /></a>Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05642443487136176511noreply@blogger.com7