It’s called “table tennis” internationally, “ping-pong” domestically, and here, in this area code, we call it “hobbit tennis,” every once in a while. Or I do, at least. Starting tonight. I made some claims on the matter almost a year ago, and I thought it’d be a worthwhile to follow up on them–if only to verify whether I honor my oaths, or simply declare them.
I pledged two things, back in March. First, I would rebuild my paddle. Second, I would add a more aggressive style of play to my skill set. As far as the hardware goes, it remains unchanged, largely due to the level of effort and expense required. There’s a sense of pride mixed into the equation, too. Whenever I face off against somebody who’s got a brand new paddle, I’ll take it on the chin as I adjust. But once I do, winning is all the sweeter because I can say, “How’s that million-dollar paddle working out for you now?” Well, maybe not say it, because that would overtly brand me as a douchemax supreme, but that’s the subtext.
There has been substantial progress, however, on pressing the attack, which has partly manifested itself as a fun and (usually) reliable backhand smash. There’s just something pure and primal and freeing about whaling away at a tiny plastic ball. More important than the smash, though, is a keener sense of your opponent. Being constantly on the defensive is suffocating, and the goal is to regain your momentum and dictate the terms of play. That seems far more important than swinging your paddle violently. All told, then, I’m one for two on my promises. I guess that means you can count on me sometimes.
President’s Day is normally filed away with Columbus Day and Flag Day, throwaway dates whose true provenances have been overshadowed by the fact that, hey, I don’t have to work at all. But my goal tonight isn’t to rekindle a deep appreciation for these holidays. I don’t give a shit about Columbus, frankly, and even if I did, celebrating the subjugation of native peoples with a long weekend seems just a little sadistic.
What interests me, instead, is the most optimal way to spend this time off and the answer, in a word, is balance. That’s the theory, at least. When I think about my vacations, long or short, the hours invariably fall along three axes: family, friends, and the Xbox. The most forgettable breaks tend to be the ones that settle on any one axis–a long weekend spent entirely on the Xbox, for instance, is truly time frittered away, and patience can easily wear thin with friends and family alike.
This past weekend was one of the best in recent memory. This was partly due to some great weather. But mainly, it was because my time was spread evenly across all three axes. I spent most of Saturday helping a buddy move. You’d think back-to-back hours of manual labor would be the last thing on anybody’s wishlist, but it was good, honest work, and the post-move shower and nap were unparalleled. Sunday was spent visiting family. On Monday, I commemorated Washington’s birthday by playing enough Xbox until my eyes bled and scabbed over. The end result? I repeatedly lost track of time. My weekend felt fuller. And a scant three days defied the time-space continuum and amounted to more than the sum of its minutes.
If we had met on Thursday, here in digital country, it would’ve been forced and disingenuous. Much as I try to cleave to our twice weekly schedule, there are times when the Word doc stubbornly stares back at me, blinking cursor heralding a great nothingness, and I cannot help but surrender to a blank page. It is during these moments when you will see a slapdash “we’ll be back” message in lieu of actual content, normally posted right as I throw my virtual hands up in resignation for the evening.
This unscheduled break, however, was exactly what I needed. In the past few days, I’ve been consuming some top-notch writing, culled from the finest sources on the Internet. Now, I’m not ready to start reading whole books again. The quaintness-to-convenience ratio of paper isn’t engaging enough right now, nor do I have the patience to visit the library to verify this claim. A Kindle wouldn’t hit the spot, either. In fact, I imagine it would do for my literary intake exactly what Wii Fit did for my health.
What I’ve been reading, instead, are longer articles from the Times, The Guardian, and blogs of professional writers. The topics may vary, from business to gaming to current events, but the merits are shared between good pieces. The prose grips you, stirs you, feeds a hunger you didn’t know you possessed, and when you reach the end, you find yourself rereading certain passages and wishing you were the one who conjured those very words. Here we are, then, renewed. The long weekend also was refreshing, and I think I know why. I just won’t tell you until Thursday.