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Anyone who knows me, knows that I love ping pong. I am shirt-ripping, muscle-bulging, fang-growing, moon-howling, passionate about it, if you know what I mean.
My love for it started at a summer camp that I absolutely, 120%, did not want to go to, for three reasons: I hated playing with new kids; I HATED brown bag lunches (room-temperature bologna sandwiches specifically); and I thought a 10 year old should be allowed to hang unsupervised for an entire summer.
Camp was held at the local run-down rec center in Port Malabar, FLA. The majority of the day was held in a dark windowless room, stocked with board games with missing pieces, random sports equipment, a television the size of a suitcase that showed nothing but old black and white films (seriously), and two ping pong tables.
I wasn’t even interested in ping pong initially. But the persistent hooting and hollering that surrounded the tables eventually caught my attention and given my family’s motto, “rather die than lose”, I couldn’t resist.
Each ping pong table was lined with 8 metal folding chairs where kids would anxiously await their turn, rotating in and out. Side-liners kept score and provided nasty commentary. Winner stayed on.
I was a pretty athletic kid so ping pong came easy. As shitty as it sounds, I don’t ever remember being bad at it and in no time at all I was ruling that table. The boys hated me, some even extended their hatred all throughout high school if you can believe it.
Recently, my best friend Carolyne, asked if I would give her ping pong lessons. I was honored that she asked me and surprised by her persistence and dedication. We’ve only had the chance to squeeze in a few lessons but I’m really impressed with how far she’s come in such a short period of time!
A couple of nights ago, a few of us went to what used to be my regular ping pong bar (I haven’t been playing much over the last year). We were having drinks with a girlfriend who’s moving away and this was our last hoorah with her. You’d THINK she’d be the center of our attention but 20 minutes in and I could already see Carolyne growing anxious. Legs bouncing uncontrollably and completely checked out of the conversation. She wanted to PLAY but I could see she was intimidated. The crowd was large and the competition was heavy so she backed down and said, “Well, if I can’t play, I at least want to see YOU play!”
Since that night, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about whether or not I’ve impacted her confidence level. Did I instill that fear in her? Why didn’t she just PLAY? In the past we’ve played casually and I’d always give her a hard time by pretending that she was wasting my time and even playing with my left hand to rub it in a little. I know she understood that I didn’t mean any harm but I couldn’t help but reflect on this and wonder if I was the reason for her insecurity that night.
I started thinking about how damaging a competitive attitude can sometimes be. Sometimes it’s entertaining and funny, but most of the time it’s nasty and hurtful. I think I’ve always been particularly competitive with ping pong because as a kid I received a lot of negative feedback for being good. It’s been my defense mechanism. Kids were mean and if you lost you were made fun of so I had to win!
Anyhow, I wish I would have given Carolyne the chance to shine a long time ago because she really is quite good. I’m glad she hasn’t let my shitty attitude sway her desire to learn.
And I admire her for tuning me the fuck out.
I got a wink today! It was so smooth and perfect and from a very handsome man. YEAH!
I really do have a special cat.
photo by Carolyne Klein
A few weeks ago, I went to a Delicate Steve show with two of my best girlfriends. The show took place at 285 Kent, my LEAST favorite DIY venue in Brooklyn. 285 is the kind of place I would have been drawn to 10 years ago with the crust punks running the door, bathrooms lacking seats, walls decorated in graffiti, and stained, dingy couches provided for the utmost leisurely experience…but not when I’m 30. NO.
I think it goes without saying that I was immediately cranky upon arrival.
Really cranky.
I nearly lost my shit when a mosh pit unexpectedly broke out during the opening performance, swallowing us, whole. Didn’t realize those still existed.
Dis-GUSTEDDDD, I leaned into Courtney with a very nasty attitude and said, “I feel fucking OLD!”
Bitch didn’t skip a beat and with a bright smile on her face, she immediately bounced back with, “Really? I feel ATTRACTIVE!”
She had it right. Her response immediately changed my perspective. Everyone needs their fixed-gear-riding, no-leg-shaving, vegan days, right? So I let them be, turned my attitude around, and ended up having a RAGER of a Tuesday night….all thanks to a lil kick in the ass from my dear, sweet, Courtney.
Ahhh, Court. She’s one of the most beautiful people I know, in every form. She’s incredibly awkward, unconventionally hilarious, brutally honest, and annoyingly confident. Her qualities are often translated as her being a Grade A bitch but I think a better way to describe her would be by saying she’s, hmmmm….. “innocently blunt”.
She certainly is a rare bird but I take something valuable away from literally every conversation we have…even if it’s just with 4 sweet words.
Lindsey Driscoll & Ben Haberland
—Bam Bam
I recorded this with the amazing, Ben Haberland, 4 years ago. Met him through a mutual friend, just months after moving to the city. Great dude - funny, charming, sarcastic, sharp, and most importantly, a cat-lover.
I think it was still winter when we met to record in his tiny Williamsburg studio apartment. We had about 10 feet of space to squeeze in a couple of tall bodies, a cat, several instruments, and maybe a chair or two.
I had nothing more to offer than mediocre vocals and ukulele plucking while Ben was one of those assholes that knew how to play EVERY instrument, really, really well. I remember him telling me that you could always trust a Tom Petty song to tune your guitar to. So after a quick warm up with The Heartbreakers, we got down and dirty.
Jah’s presence surrounded us with every ooo, every ahhh, and within a few hours, we had a privileged white kid’s rendition of Sister Nancy’s Bam Bam.
Granted, it was only a cover, but we felt GOOD about what we had just made. Making music with him felt RIGHT.
But, like many of us do as we settle into our lives, we drifted apart and eventually lost touch. We never mixed a final version of the song, and never made music together again. I don’t know why, but I never thought to contact him for a copy until just last week.…and sure enough, four years later, he still had it.
This weekend was my first time hearing the finished product.
Ben, sir, you rule.
HOLD IT
once, when i was little, i peed my pants. i had just woken up from a nap and went looking for my mom. when i found her, she asked me, in her sweet, soft, little voice, “lindsey, did you go potty in the bed?”
“no, mommy”
“i went SWIMMING!”
~~~~~~
i haven’t peed my pants as an adult yet, although, i came quite close over the weekend.
i had a friend over. a friend who makes my cat completely forget who i am whenever he’s around. they share this deep romantic connection that makes me feel like a single girl on valentine’s day.
a favorite game of theirs is ‘head in mouth’. the point of the game is to try and get my cat to willingly stick her head inside his mouth. he’ll open up as wide as he can and then patiently wait while she sniffs things out. it’s gross. but it’s the kind of thing you can’t help but watch.
so during this particular game,
he finds his station, opens wide
…she leans in…
twitches her nose
…leans in deeper…
…and SNEEZES.
my body completely shut down
photo by courtney klein
free falling
today, my coworker, and very dear friend, told me she was resigning. she was moving to Virginia to be with a very handsome gentlemen with whom she had fallen head over heels in love with.
she nervously broke the news just a few hours into our day. as she began to tell me, her eyes welled up, her face turned a VERY pretty pastel pink (she’s so cute) and she squirmed the hell out of her little chair. she was worried about my reaction because she knew this transition would ultimately mean new and unwanted responsibilities for me. i’ll be honest, shit WILL temporarily hit the fan without her, but WHO really cares about that?!
i was ECSTATIC!
i was overwhhhhhhelmed with joy and COMPLETELY covered, head-to-toe, in goosebumps. gahhh, it has been such a beautiful experience watching her fall, fall fall. gradually. cautiously.
i am truly happy for my friend and i am so proud of her for diving deep.
THIS cat, my cat, Jelly, has won, the very prestigious award, Kitty of the Year, every year, since acquiring her in 2010
~~~
“how can a person not like cats?” - a brilliant quote from one of my favorite people on the planet, Grant
~~~
last Friday I told someone that all cats come from Kittery, Maine - they believed me for a second - but it’s actually true - look it up
