August 17th, 2007

abstract butterfly

pre-chess surge

After we returned from sushi at Wasabi, I assembled my box for my chess touranment tomorrow morning. Clocks, check. Cross-tables, check. Software I forgot to download so far, no check but no need. applications for chess federation memobership, check. Pens, check. Contract with facility, check. Index cards for pairings, check. Half a brain--surely the good half of a brain, check.

I have e mails from five people saying "I plan to come". With me counted, that makes 6, if all come. Most do not RSVP, so this is actually a very good sign. Ten is near-break-even, as my total outlay is perhaps 60something dollars, and each entry fee brings me roughly 6 dollars to defray expenses (the rest going into the modest prize fund). I like running these litle bitty low-low-budget events. They appeal to my sense that everything should be direct, basic, and rooted in micro-finance.

My original dream for this club was that all tournaments would be very informal, almost like random acts of kindness or senseless/sensate/sensible shivers of unspeakable wonder. Perhaps my dream will be realized someday, but I'm still toddling, a bit.

Diogenes has nothing on me. I found an honest cell-phone retail assistant at the Town East Mall. I liked Paul because he looks my age and dresses like a young Bun Carlos (use wikipedia if you must) but is 30, I'd guess, and because his hair has that unkempt look that is 1/10th "flock of seagulls" and 9/10ths "forgot to comb when wet". I am now realigned, in cellular sync, and even re-armed with an mp3 player in search of songs.

My brother IM'd from gencon, which he and my nephew are enjoying very much. I have never been a gamer nor a scorner of gamers. I play chess and hike flat trails.

My wife's mp3 player, run through an Altair speaker, is playing "Morning has Broken",
but I'm glad to hear cricket sounds in the post-rain on a warm Friday night.