Monday, August 5, 2013

Fa La La La, Leave, Please

By now you may have caught on that I truly enjoy getting about 30 to 45 minutes in on either the OctaCurve Mach III or the Mach I backboard at the local park less than two minutes away.

This is a fantastic work-out usually followed by a 3 to 5 mile bicycle ride on my hybrid along the rolling-hill roads of Forest Acres.

This usually occurs on a day off from the gym and can be quite invigorating (or exhausting) depending on the weather.

Last Saturday morning I went down early to increase the odds of getting my fave - the Mach III. It worked, but as I was setting up, two other groups came out to play, leaving no courts available where the Mach III is located. I made it just in time.

The eight courts are arranged in two separate fenced in areas of four courts. It's rare, except on a league night, to see the furthest most courts being used.

This is a multi-purpose park - gymnasium, picnic area, playground, baseball fields, pool and a multisport field. In fact, the pool and the playground are closest to the courts, which can be the loudest when the young ones are at play. This day, the local youth football teams have just started practice and the field is adjacent to the courts and most of the activity is within 30 to 50 yards of where I am.

There is something about normal sounds and conversation or the voices of others directed toward one another - it's expected and it somewhat becomes nothing but a minor drone in the distance. It's not as if I'm playing at a tournament or watching a pro match. I'm at a public park and people are doing normal "public park things". (Oh, how descriptive I am.)

But, then there are the odd, rare and rude occurrences, like a woman doing a fast walk (exercise?) along the inside perimeter of the fence, wearing a headset, while singing (practicing), occasionally at the top-of-her-lungs. Luckily she's holding concert in the back forty, but still.

Fortunately, drilling on the backboard, I am way too focused to be bothered with this; however, I have no clue as to how the other groups playing feel about this. Perhaps their glaring looks didn't say enough to the woman who was definitely trying to outdo the volume on her headset. 

I imagined a woman setting at her kitchen table, unable to stretch her vocal chords at home for fear of retribution from her family or neighbors, thinking to herself, "Where can I go that is usually quiet, for good reason, and then piss off some people? Eureka, some public tennis courts!"

You guessed it. I am about to make the obvious angered revengeful statement. I want to go to the next local choral recital and start ripping some ground strokes at the largest vertical surface available.

Of course, I wouldn't do so, but it does sounds like a whole lot of fun.

This is why garage bands play in garages. Oh, and for another reason; It's great incentive to find another place to practice or get some gigs. If they truly suck or don't improve, they will continue playing in a garage. Which is actually a good thing for the rest of us unless you are a neighbor.

Oh well.

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