Summer bowling; summer not

I'm bowling in a Summer league this year called "Have a Ball."  No prize money or trophies at the end of the season but everybody in the league gets a "free" bowling ball.  I put "free" in quotes because each weeks lineage money is such that you do actually pay for the ball, just in 13 increments throughout the season.  But the idea is good and my old ball is just so scratched and dull I thought this would give me impetus to get a new one.

Tonight I took possession of my new bowling ball.  It's a 15 lb. Track 503c and it's bright and shiny and matches my eyes, cataracts and all.  My first roll was a strike and my first game was a 207.  Things went downhill after that but I didn't really mind.  My new ball and I have to get used to each other and we both have to agree to just who is in charge.  Hopefully I can prevail.

Susan Who?

Well, the time has come to admit (at least to myself) that I have reached the age when the boobs on the tube advise us to stay indoors, well hydrated and to pay attention to the “reduced air quality” advisories.  Today was that day.
 
But my black eyed Susan bush was worth my own gasping foray into the backyard this afternoon.  I planted this bit of flora a couple of years ago to fill a gap in the hedge and this year it has rewarded me with dozens of blossoms and a simple beauty that warms the soul; even though the heat in which it thrives has the potential to stop the heart.  It and, for that matter, all the plants and bushes welcomed me and my trusty garden hose set on “shower.”  I could tell because within ten minutes they were all again standing at attention.  Don’t worry, my pets, the rains come; artificial or not.
 
Since the centers of the blossoms of my particular Susan are an obvious brown I had to wonder why this plant is called a black eyed Susan.  Wikipedia informs me that another common name for it is brown eyed Susan.  Well, huh!  But wait, although I understand the “eyed” part, why “Susan?”  Wikipedia does not explain.

The black eyed Susan is the state flower of Maryland. 

2011 Maximin Grunhauser Mosel Riesling

I don’t know what it is about this Riesling.  It just hits my gut perfectly both with food and straight out of the bottle (well, I don’t really guzzle wine that way but I would with this one if no other container was available).  It’s fruity and a little too mellow and with a bouquet that might make you sneeze but it’s my current choice for casual sipping.

I’m almost certain my high regard has to do with personal nostalgia since Mosel Riesling was my first introduction to “real” wine early in my personal career as a human being.  Prior to this I had only been subjected to the dregs of Gallo from the San Joaquin Valley in California.  Who knew from Napa or Sonoma wines in those days?  The fact my first sip took place in a castle on a steep hillside high above the Mosel River in Germany might have something to do with this positive sense-memory.

Other folks seemed to have discovered this wine and the bottle I have currently stashed in my fridge cost $22 (plus tax) at the Juice Box Liquor Store around the corner.  Still affordable I guess but no longer the $8 to $12 price category I’ve been used to.

It goes great with meatloaf.

 

Derek's back!

I have always denied being a member of the New York Yankee fan “cult.”  Simply because their arrogance and, let’s face it, their historically and financially winning ways makes them fascinating shouldn’t be reason enough to jump on that bandwagon.  The alternative in my area, the NY Mets, is just too laughable to even consider spending any time, much less a nickel on supporting a notable bunch of losers.
 
The big reason for following the Yankees has always been a fantastic roster of superstars and, whatever you might think of them, they are damned exciting to watch.  Except not this year because of a plethora of major injuries to key players.  They seem to have one (healthy) superstar, that being Robinson Cano, but everybody else is such a lesser light than Cano it’s like watching high school level baseball.  It can be fun but, hey, I’m way beyond being okay with incompetence.
 

What I have always admitted to, and the reason I might be considered a Yankee fan (by the uneducated) is my fondness for Derek Jeter.  Although Derek and I have always had this close relationship, totally platonic of course and strangely one-sided, he is the reason I would even consider watching a Thursday day-game against the Kansas City Royals.  It was way cool to see him back in harness and playing with his usual enthusiasm and just basic joy of playing.

 

Rock on, Derek, you will always be the bobble-head in my heart.

Glow little glow worm...

Last night I took the bus up to Bartel-Pritchard Square (it’s a circle) which is about 20 blocks from home; bought a three-scoop cup of ice cream (chocolate) and strolled into Prospect Park and secured a spot on a bench to listen to the New York Philharmonic Orchestra do its annual summer concert (free).  I didn’t actually go all the way to the concert venue, which was maybe three blocks further along but I was plenty close enough to hear the notes wafted into the sultry air.  And sultry it was; in fact so much so I pretty much gave up before the scheduled post-concert fireworks.

 Also when the sun set and the shadows merged into darkness there seemed to be an insectoid attack of the first rank and, combined with my sweaty brow and the necessity of wearing socks, it started to mitigate the joy of the semi-distant music and when the ice cream (chocolate) tuned into a Slurpee I decided to give the outing a pass.  This was a concert with strings attached that’s for sure.  Also, the insects swirling around seemed to be bigger and blacker than I was prepared to endure until, guess what, they started to twinkle here and there and within minutes the pathway I was strolling seemed to be filled with light.  Truly Christmas in July!

Scientific information:  Lampyridae is a family of insects in the beetle order Coleoptera. They are winged beetles, and commonly called fireflies or lightning bugs for their use of bioluminescence to attract mates and/or prey. Fireflies produce a "cold light" in various colors, our particular species being yellow.

About this time every year we get fireflies in my neighborhood and my backyard is often a gathering place for them.  However, this year, I’ve never seen so many.  If it was any other insect it would probably be called a plague but, in this case, it was a plague that dazzled.

The concert consisted of Dvorak’s Cello Concerto and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 and if that means nothing to you that’s okay because I’m certainly not a huge fan of classical music either.  I lump it all under the term “flute music” and it’s very nice in the background of my life.