Life On a Lake 

Dedicated to the Joys of Waterside Living

286

On this the eve of the NCAA playoffs, it seems only appropriate to publish our Lexicon on Modern Basketball Talk, as promulgated by sports announcers. In other words, we've wasted too much time watching kids play a game they love but benefits the watcher not one iota.

"Flat out" a modifier that translates, "really" or "very much." Derived from racecar announcing.

"Half-court game" means to woo without serious intent.

"Full-court press" is to try to get her into bed with intent that may be serious and includes express body activity.

"Free throw" will cost you points, but only if you miss.

"Three-pointer" is a derisive term for a ball hog or a show-off. Indicates a greedy player and one who is perhaps insincere in his attitude toward sharing.

"Put back" means you stole something and were caught. Restitution is the sole punishment here.

"Pass" lets you out of study hall to practice the game. Also, as a verb, enables you to get rid of the ball and not get fouled and possibly hurt by whoever is guarding you.

"Penetrating the key." Sounds impossible, doesn't it? And it often is.

Hope you find these definitions useful.

2852

The wood ducks have returned!

A month late, suddenly six of them showed up at our beach--four gaudy males and two drab hens.

It was my wife who spotted them first. Norma buzzed me on the intercom excitedly and I dashed to the downstairs window, not knowing what exactly to expect.

At times like these, we always turn to face the lake. Rarely does it disappoint us.

And there they were.

Quick, to the feeder on the upstairs porch rail and the special blend of bird feed we have expressly for them.  And--sure enough--half an hour later, there was the dark shape moving overhead at my window to signify that one of them, at least, was headed to the porch rail.

Norma told me that it was first a female, then a male, that arrived. As of old, he stood mock-guard as she pecked at the food. Maybe he himself fed later (she didn't tell me), but in the past he often didn't. (Such altruism!)

In the afternoon I walked down to the dock to check on my fishing line. I didn't see the ducks along the shoreline, in among the dead cattails. But they saw me. I slowed my gait, hoping not to flush them, and was partly successful; instead of flying off, with a noisy protest, the simply swam rapidly off to a distance of, say, a hundred yards. And they peeped annoyance.

The fact that they didn't take wing was a minor triumph.

I returned to the house loudly announcing in my best phony voice: "Hey, Norma, they remembered me." That and the fact that I was walking real slow.

Lake Ketchum morning rainbow

284

All good blogs are phony, you know. What they tell you isn't the truth of what is happening, not if they are any good. Oh, sure, there are blogs in which some college freshman (usually a girl) confides her deepest feelings about her classes, roommate, teachers, ad nauseam. But then I said "good" blogs. (We strive, but don't always make the grade.)

A blog ought to be selective. It is not reporting some debatable "truth; it is simply giving you a worm's-eye view of some narrow event that is .going on in a world that is conventionally small, as most of ours are, or is. That's all.

But that may be quite a bit, depending on how that view is seen and expressed.

BlogStudio.com has both kinds of blogs in its totally democratic collection of web logs. They come and they go. (Many never get past the "test post" stage. Few last more than a year. A number "die on the vine," as it were.) It is up to the interested reader to sort them out for him- or herself, and discard what is, ahem, not beneficial.

Of course that includes us.

Looking Heavenward

283

From a Seattle PI obituary today, March 12, 2004:

"Our beloved Margaret is now free of pain, amazing all the saints in Heaven with her wonderful humor, and busy learning the names of everyone there."

 More follows, but I think that is enough. If you believe this, let me tell you about the Tooth Fairy, and I have a wonderful business opportunity for you. Just send me a big check. . . .

282

There is an old Chinese myth that [goes] there are eighty-two thousand families living on the moon that are there to mend the chipped parts.

A Quiet Room: The Poetry of Zen Master Jakushitsu, footnote on p. 79

WEDDING ANYONE?

281

Did you know? The size of most rings for women in stores is seven. To make them larger or smaller requires sizing by a professional jeweler.  If you need a ring that is larger, it is going to cost you. Metal will  have to be added. If smaller, they can usually take some metal out of the ring and, no, they aren't going to give it back to you. Or else they can try to compress it slightly.

A  man's ring size is typically an eleven. If his hands are larger or smaller, the same rules will apply. A ring can generally be sized down, or compressed, fairly easily. But to make it larger, it needs to be added to, and this takes metal and skilled labor.

My hands are small for a man, my wife's larger. We are not average, nor are we seven and elevens, which, incidentally is a gambler's fervent prayer when shooting Craps on his initial roll. This is a player's dream.

Craps at any other time, though, means you lose. Tough luck, Charlie.

With wedding bands, it is also a crap shoot. More than half of the weddings will end in divorce, often quickly.

If you shoot Craps often at the gambling table, the chances of divorce (I would guess) increase dramatically.

Robert Arnold, Editor
rcarnold@direcway.com