Every morning, seven days a week, I go over to the Shell Courts and pick up a doubles match at 8:00 am. There are eight to twelve fellows that show up every day looking for a match. Their ages range from 40 to 73. I'm the old man at 73. No longer do I have to travel 200 to 300 miles to get beaten. I get my lickings right here.

Maybe, when I turn 75, I might play a year in tournaments again. Then I'll be the new kid on the block; perhaps I'll show those old cronies a thing or seven.

I guess there are a few other things that might be of interest to you that I may not have mentioned.

When I was going to college in Santa Barbara, I was teaching the handicapped kids how to swim at the YMCA in Santa Barbara. To inspire them, I tied both my feet and one hand together to show them that it took only one arm to learn how to swim. I fell off the edge of the pool in six feet of water. It took me a full minute to get back to the top of the water. Boy, was I paddling like mad; it was a very "iffy" situation.

Steven, do you remember when I was "Den Mother" when you guys were Cub Scouts? I remember that we had a treasure hunt and that I gave each group of you a compass to use in following my directions to the treasure. Little did I know that as soon as you got near a steel light pole, all the compasses would give false readings.

Whenever we went someplace, that damn Steven was never around when we were ready to go. So mom and I would say we were going to leave him just to hear Jr. cry. Or the time that we were camping out and Steven said that he'd heard a bear and crawled into bed with mom and me. He was about five at the time.

One thing the little guys learned well was that when I whistled three times, they were to come running home regardless of what they were playing.

What the heck were you doing up in the rafters of the garage, Jr? It was on Byron Avenue, and you fell down on to the pavement landing on your back. Mom said that all it did was stun you. Is that why you later walked into a kid that was swinging a bat in the park and you had a knot as big as a goose egg on your forehead?

It was Steven that was running inside the house one time when he decided to go outside, without bothering to open the glass patio door. We had to peel off skin the size of a dollar from the glass. When we pressed it back on his arm, he never missed a beat.

Sibling love always played a part in our family; an example was when Jr. and Steve stepped out on the back lawn. It was a great wrestling match until Steven gave Jr. a body slam. It was a good thing mom intervened. After Jr. woke up, he had only 'Kill, Kill' on his mind.

You'd think that after they'd grown up, things would lighten up a little, but no way. Steven, coming home from SMJC (San Mateo Junior College, now the College of San Mateo), tried to wipe out a rock wall on Hillsdale Blvd. in Foster City with his old Ford. After three days in the hospital, he had only a broken thigh bone.

Jr., who had developed the art of water skiing to it's highest level, asked mom and me to drop by on our way to dinner to see his exhibition. We had just arrived when here he comes on a big sweeping curve near us and 'SPLAT'; he hit a stake sticking out of the water and must have done four somersaults before he lay unconscious in the water. I had to wade out into the water and take him to the hospital. Just bruises, abrasions, and a broken ego. Haven't seen him ski since.

I hear you laughing Shelley, but what about the time you and your girlfriend Didi were driving to school and some guy on the freeway knocked down a steel light post that crashed through your windshield between you and the driver? Nothing like being at the right place at the right time. If that's true, what were you doing when you flew over the hood of a pickup truck when we were at Lake Tahoe? Oh, just out bicycle riding, huh?

At times Steven, you were very difficult and stubborn. For instance, there was one time when you mouthed off to mom. To me, that was a cardinal sin. So I took you into the bedroom, took off my belt, and laid a couple of good ones on you. No response, so I gave you a couple more for good measure; still no response. I had to leave the room before I busted out laughing in front of you. I know damn well they hurt; you were 11 or 12 at the time and weren't about to holler uncle.

Shelley, I only made you cry once. All I was trying to do was give you another tennis lesson and persuade you that you had a great talent and would do very well in tournament tennis. I had practiced with you enough to know that you would have ranked in the top 5 or 6 in your age group and you hadn't even played a tournament yet. Anyway, I told you at the time that I didn't ever want you to say to me in later years, "Why didn't you ever work with me." I did finally get you to pair up with Heather Ludloff and you both won the Foster City Women's Doubles. Damned good for kids that were only twelve years old. Heather incidentally, turned professional.

And Scotty, that high flying acrobat who tried to set a record up at Long Barn by seeing how far he could jump out of a swing. Not one, but two broken wrists. With your casts on, you couldn't even wipe your own butt. It's a good thing that you all had a mother that loved you. I think the other incidents are privileged information between him and his parents.

I sure met a lot of people when I was donating my time doing community work in the fifties here in the San Mateo area. When San Mateo wanted to build a Boys Club down in North Shoreview, I spent about three months going around getting donations. At the ground breaking, I met the Mayor and the former President of the United States, Mr. Herbert Hoover. Steven got his picture in the paper assisting the former President with the first shovelful. A few years later, I coached Stanford and Steven in the Industrial Baseball League played at the Boys Club.

In 1983, after my retirement, I coached Bowditch Boys and Girls Basketball Teams. That was some year. The girls won 9 and lost 2, but the boys were 2 and 9. I've never worked so hard as I did with the boys. I spent every day of their Christmas vacation trying to teach them the fundamentals. At the end of the season, I ended up with the shingles. I didn't coach again for eight years.

In 1991, I coached the Crocker sixth-grade boys at Hillsborough. A fine group of kids who really tried. We ended up winning more than we lost, but we didn't make the playoffs. Maybe next year, they'll allow me to coach the seventh grade. The kids gave me a beautiful calculator as a 'thank you.'

Every year I've been collecting used tennis balls from the guys at the tennis courts. I give the good ones to either the high school or the Bowditch tennis team. The dead ones, I also give to Bowditch so that they can teach paddle tennis. I also managed to assist teaching their tennis team a few times a year. They are very good.

In 1988, I was selected for membership on Foster City's Park and Recreation Commission. When my two years were up, I never applied to run again. The City Council failed to accept many of the proposals or recommendations that we had worked on for weeks. The big issues were to put in a multi-purpose gym and swimming pool, and to add bike paths where a lot of the kids rode their bikes to school. So to heck with them, I quit. I did manage to put in a dog run behind city hall and get it all fenced in.

Since then, I've been out collecting signatures to prevent them from building a new city hall on the site of the present tennis courts on Shell Blvd. We defeated them last year (1991), and now they're trying to build a library on the courts. No way! We had 80 supporters at the council meeting last week and we won. The tennis courts stay, and the library will be built across Shell Blvd. on a vacant lot. Who says that you can't beat city hall?

Remember when President Nixon got caught up in the Watergate scandal? On that occasion, I sent a telegram to my senator in Washington DC with just one word on it: "IMPEACH." That was August 5, 1974. That was when he released one of the tapes. It revealed that when Nixon found out that the FBI was investigating Watergate, he attempted to steer it away from the case. Three days later he announced his resignation and left the White House. I guess he knew that I was on his case.

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