Today the fellow from the United States Chess Federation e-mailed me to let me know that I had, indeed, directed enough tournaments in the past 4 years to qualify for an automatic renewal of my tournament director status. This will permit me to put into practice my half-baked-but-fully-yeasted scheme to run a chess tournament with no entry fee of any kind. It's just a matter of finding the least expensive site I can muster, and then running an ad based on the free ads I get because my little club is a chess federation member. I figure that holding a free chess tournament is the next best thing to writing open source software.
Never let it be said that I cannot ride the horse that threw me. I signed up for another International Correspondence Chess Federation tournament. This marks either the sin of gluttony or the virtue of pluck, as my last two tournaments each featured me scoring a mere 1 draw and x number of losses, with x varying slightly between the 2 tournaments. I am not sure whether is is merely age that drives my poor statistics, or whether inattention and being spread too thin figures into the equation. Playing opposition stronger than I am also seems to add into the calculation a good bit.
The word "calculation" reminds me of the word "calculus", and in particular of an expert witness once in a deposition who tried to correct me when I used "calculus" in its more generic meaning (which is similar to but not identical to "calculation") rather than in its more specialized mathematic meaning (the term in effect marrying differential calculus and integral calculus into one term). I knew I was right when I was right (and I was), which is not at all uncommon a feeling, sadly, for me to have. But over ten years later I wish not that I was right, but that I had had the Oxford dictionary handy to do what I colloquially call "ram it down the witness' throat", which is a non-mellifluous way of saying "I wish I could have pointed out to him the error of his testimony with a conclusive impeaching document". If I saw him at a convention, I would tell him of his error, but he would not remember the context--nor should I (but I do).
Tomorrow I go for a weekend in the Arizona desert, visiting in-laws in Tucson. I had to turn down a chance to be on a panel discussion about music in Denton this Saturday, which I regret, a bit, but the panel possibility did not confirm until after I had committed to go to Arizona. Tonight our 12 year old niece from my wife's side of the family is coming to visit, as she and my wife will fly out early tomorrow. A remote possibility exists that I might have to work this weekend, which would permit me to not have my cake and not eat it, too, but I am an optimist.
I put together the song based on field recordings to submit to a netlabel tonight, using samples from the Glover river in Oklahoma, from the rainfall yesterday, and from my nose-flute, can-jo, and whistle softsynth. We'll see if it's chosen for the compilation--if not, I'll release it myself.
It's very cold here. It's been raining,which we need, in light of our drought. My dogs have their winter coats on. The warmer desert, with desert birds and the cacti I love will be, quite simply, perfect timing.