This was the first park in a triple-header outing thanks to the generosity of my newest friend Alan who I met through my new-but-not-quite-as-new friend Thai. Yup, I am making friends wherever I go and feel blessed plus-plus-plus.
A highlight of playing with Alan and his pals in Rowland Heights was simply being there. It is WAY EAST for me, although of course smack dab in the middle o’ the map for folks who live in this tidy-looking and hilly suburb. When I boast openly about playing here to my Westside friends, they summon a look of astonishment which I appreciate and yet I can never answer the question of where is that? I just determine where East is and then point.
But I can do better, and will, right now: Rowland Heights is east of Hacienda Heights which is east of Whittier which is where Richard Nixon attended middle school. And high school. And college. Even Richard Nixon’s got soul, as Neil Young warbled on one of those glad-you-got-that-out-of-your-system songs in between the really good songs on Rust Never Sleeps.
Aww, who am I trying to kid? I love that song. I have warbled along to it myself countless times, often adding my own soulful harmonica solo. Even Richard Nixon’s got it… souuuuuuuuulllllllll.
Another highlight along with just being there was calling a maybe-out shot in, because as I told my doubles partners, that’s the call to make when you are far from home. This made me feel worldly-wise.
Alan meanwhile made me feel another plus blessed when he heard the full scope of my ambition to play on every public court in LA. His response: “There are a bunch of other courts near here, wanna go?”
Oh heck yeah. Secretly I drove this time because it woulda been three hours each way and I was feeling public transit weariness. It happens. So we drove over to Ronald Reagan Park, very nice, on a hill, lots of sycamores and oaks. If we can’t even play tennis in a park named after a Republican president then, c’mon. For sure we played. We frolicked!
And then we went to Pathfinder Park right up the street to make it three-three-three. All whilst it threatened to drizzle. We faced the threat by romping on well-kept courts tucked into green hills dotted with yellow mustard flowers.
Shout out to Neil…who somehow seems to have re-emerged on Spotty. Go figure.
Shout out to both Nixon and Reagan. 6 degrees of Rumsfeld and Cheney.
Shout out to friends introducing us to new friends.