Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

*From The Depths Of Memory- A Personal Note-"An Old Geezer Sighting At The "Dust Bowl"

Click on the headline to link to a "YouTube" entry for Hicham el Guerouj setting the world record at 1500m. (it says one mile on the screen but that is wrong, according to the time clocked).

Markin comment:

Not all the entries in this space are connected to politics, although surely most of them can be boiled down into some political essence, if you try hard enough. The following is one of those instances where trying to gain any “political traction”, or as I am fond of saying drawing the “lessons” would be foolhardy. I should also note that this entry is part of a continuing, if sporadic, series of “trips down memory lane” provoked by a fellow high school classmate who has been charged with keeping tabs on old classmates and their doings, even those of old line communists like this writer. Go figure?

This entry, although spurred on by ancient memories of 'grandeur’ on the running track and other reflections from youth is not, as is usually the case, the result of some query. Rather the reverse, a note of a couple of sentences, had been submitted by me, unsolicited, to that badgering classmate mentioned above and other classmates wanted to hear more. The ‘dust bowl’ in question is an old, woe begotten, rundown practice track that, as noted below, had (and still has) many uses as an 'athletic field'. And, as the interest shown in the story indicated, produced many “war stories” through the years. Markin

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Warning: Those fellow classmates under a doctor’s care or who are taking prescription medications should not proceed to read the rest of this entry. This means that, given our demographic, about three people can reasonably be expected to read this thing. The tale I have to tell is not for the faint-hearted. If you persist you have been forewarned.

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I have written a number of entries in this space about the old days at the high school, and the like. This one follows in that same tradition, although with this twist- the “old geezer” described in the headline to this entry has requested anonymity for reasons that will become obvious once the tale he has asked me to tell unfolds. I think, however, that the average, above-average, classmates that the old high school produced can all figure this one out. Right?

For those of us who went to the local junior high school and can remember that far back this year marks the 50th anniversary of our graduation from that place. For the old geezer, a man given to the faux-heroic feat, the odd-ball, off-hand symbolic gesture, and a disturbingly steadfast adherence to the drumbeat of history this called for some action. Since this year also marked the 50th anniversary of his first seriously taking up running as a sport, under the guidance of Coach L., that gesture revolved around an attempt to run one mile around the old “Dust Bowl” track that has served as an ‘athletic field’ for the old town community since Hector was a pup. Thisattempt was made, in spite of the fact that he had done no more, at most, than run for the bus for the past quarter of a century, or more. Note also that the distance was one mile he sought to run. Not for him that old “lame” 600 yards around the front driveway circle at the high school that everyone had to do as part of the old-time President’s Physical Fitness Test. No, indeed.

For those not familiar with the location the old “Dust Bowl” is the field the next street over from the junior high. It served as our field at the junior high for some sports. It also was the place where the legendary 1964 football team, led by “Bullwinkle”, “Woj”, Jim F., Charlie McD., Tom K., Walt S., Don McN., Lee M. and a host of others practiced being mean under Coach L. in order to beat the beleaguered cross town arch-rival that year. Now I know some readers “know” that location, as the old geezer did.

Furthermore, it was also the training ground and meet location for the spring track team where the silky-striding Bill C. held forth in distance running, Ritchie McC. and others in the middle distances, Brooks M. in the sprints, Carl L. and Ralph M. in the hurdles, Al B. in the pole vault and a host of others who ran around in their skimpy black shorts, including the old geezer who was distinguished mainly by being a steadgastly well-below average runner. He was not sure on this one, nor am I, but, perhaps, the cheerleaders led by the spunky Josie W., the sprightly Roxanne G., and the plucky Linda P. also practiced there. In short, if you are not familiar with the locale then you stand accused of being willfully out of touch with old town reality.

I should also mention that this name “Dust Bowl” is not mere hyperbole on my part. In summer and fall, at least, there was more dust that the EPA would find tolerable these days. Moreover, as the old geezer told me the field ‘owed’ him. So revenge was also a motive here, as well. Apparently he still has cinders in his left knee from when he fell while running the on track 50 years ago. Ouch! He told me to ask you if you had similar “war stories”. Moreover, and this is symbolic in its own way, the track is not the normal quarter-mile one that you only had to go around four times (for the non-Math whizzes out there) but five laps to the mile. That may explain many things about our subsequent lives, right?

Okay, now to the big event. In the interest of accuracy this “event”, according to the old geezer’s information, occurred at about 9:00 AM on January 6, 2010. Now why he was not in Florida or at least in some warm house instead of being out on the “track” will go a long way to explaining the “inner demons” that plague this sixty-three year-old man’s psyche. Moreover, he continued on with his quest despite having to wait upon dogs, and their owners, who seemingly felt such an hour was ripe for a canine national convention at the old bowl. But, we digress.

The old geezer started off okay with the usual burst of adrenaline one gets when the big day finally comes carrying him along for a while, he then settled into a “pace” and all went well until he started breathing heavily, got light-headed and began feeling cramps in his thigh, and that was only on the first lap. It went down hill from there. But intrepid soul that he is he “dogged” it out. He informed me that his time for the mile has been declared a matter of national security and therefore not available to the public, although he did allude to an unfavorable comparison with the time it takes to get to the moon and back. Nevertheless the gesture is in the books, a member of the class of 1964 has been vindicated, and life can return to normal. Oh, the old geezer did mention this. For those of you with grandchildren under the age of five he is ready to take on all comers. Okay.