Ultimate Frisbee and Six Foot Fences

Happy summer!

Ooo. A little sore today from playing Ultimate Frisbee last night. As I arrived at the field, so too did a group of teenaged boys. At first, I thought we might have to fight them for the field, but I soon realized that they were here to play. As they tossed their cleats on the ground and began stretching, I must admit, I cringed internally. I mean, I’m not bad at Ultimate Frisbee. I’m actually pretty decent. But, stretching? Cleats? Oh boy. I bet they can jump like Golden Retrievers too.

Besides, I thought this was a bunch of teachers (and me) hanging out, playing casually, for fun. And even when I am not working on fighting down a sinus infection, I’m not much of a runner. I just never have been. I’ve tried, but it is the whole lung thing. Asthma just makes it hard to go all out with running. But anyway, faced with these young pups who undoubtedly could run the field like it was a small living room, I was wondering if I really should have stayed home with my penicillin.

And then they chose teams. Young vs. Old. I was on the old team. Great, this should be humiliating. The age cut off was 25 (!!!!!), leaving ten youngsters and eight oldies. So, we did some swapping to make it nine versus nine. For defense, I tried to choose the guy who looked less likely to be able to run. And of course, I picked the runner. Once he figured out that I would go long to the end zone when we were on offense, he’d take off to pick cherries at his end zone, which left me nicely open. Unfortunately, when they would get possession again, my guy would be down at the other end of the field and where was I? Pretty much as far away from him as possible.

I did manage to do a cool, sliding, hat flying off catch the Frisbee just before it hits the ground for a touchdown.

We won ten to eight. In your face you young pups!

I was reading my husband’s Discover Magazine today and I found an interesting article by Douglas Rushkoff (Driving Used to be About Taking on the World, Now it’s About Being Tucked in for a Nap). You know how the other day I was complaining about how we seem to be separating ourselves from our neighbours? Well, he was discussing things along a similar vein. He was talking about fancy cars with GPS navigation systems (no need to ask others for directions), DVD systems (kids don’t realize they have left the house), parking assist and how all those fancy features are taking the joy of doing the task of driving somewhere. (Car companies would no doubt argue that they are putting the fun into the task of driving somewhere.) Rushkoff argues that by simplifying or removing all these sorts of tasks is similar to saying that the task has no value. The newest features of vehicles (like parking assist, cruise control, cars monitoring eyelids for fatigue and cars that can call for help) have turned drivers into a “pampered child” and our driving activities are being “hovered over by a vigilant electronic mother, scanning the road ahead for danger” (Discover: April 2007, p. 73).

He does have a point.

The quote I like best from his article is: “Increasingly detached from the tasks and surroundings of our daily lives, we are also less connected to the civic, social, and physical reality on which we depend” (Discover: April 2007, p. 73).

I hear you brother! I totally, whole-heartedly agree. In some ways technology and the wealth we are enjoying is separating us from each other and making poor behaviour more and more acceptable. It is a scary idea. Where are we heading? Will something stop us? Will we reconnect with others again? What can we do? I know that big, new, cozy vehicles are a problem–look at how we treat each other on the road. We bully, we break rules and we don’t care, because we are safe in our vehicular cocoon.

Onto the more personal, Rushkoff talks about listening to ipods or talking on a cell phone in public spaces. By doing this we are removing ourselves from the spaces we are in (sidewalks, buses, etc) and therefore, making “these spaces even less interactive or friendly than they were before.”

He really put his finger on it for me. What do you think?

Another thought…

I got an email today from a friend. One of those chain letter ones and I passed it on to some of my friends, even though I don’t usually do that. You see, it had a theory about why a friend comes into your life. Friends come in to serve a purpose (to fulfill a need or help learn a life lesson). To fulfill that purpose, the friend might come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

When put that way, it makes sense to let some long-time friends go, even though it is hard. There is a feeling of obligation to keep in touch and keep in contact and to remain good friends, even though it is obvious that neither party has anything to offer the other any longer. And thus, friends drift apart. I suppose this email appeased the guilt I have in letting some of my old friends and acquaintances go.