Articles

Bonehead: the secret history of UConn hoops

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The first time I saw Patty she glowed. We met at the bar Bourbon Street in Hartford CT, and the night was like Mardi Gras for us: partying, dancing and laughing. I’ll leave any “beads business” to the imagination. I was immediately struck by her, and we started dating right away. 

It was March when we met, and Patty and I bonded over our shared passion for UConn basketball. The men’s and women’s programs were just beginning a climb to national prominence, but Connecticut already had a case of “Husky Fever”. Sharing their triumphs was an early joy, and the pain of defeat in March Madness stung us both immensely.  

Our relationship flourished along with many basketball triumphs. One day, I was looking for something in the closet of our condo and I found something that looked like a bone. Made of foam, it was bone white, and it said “Husky Hoops” in black letters. It was a dog bone! And it was made to be worn as a hat. 

We had just scored season tickets for the 98-99 men’s home games. When I saw the bone, I knew it was destiny! I would wear the bone to games. Maybe Coach Calhoun would spot me in the crowd! 

But then I thought: what if Patty doesn’t want to be sitting next to the guy with the bone on his head? Maybe this is not something that adults do. 

When she came home from work, I greeted her with the bone on my head. She laughed and said, “Where did you find that? I won it in a raffle years ago.” 

I told her how I found it, then said, “I want to wear it to games.” It seemed forever waiting for her reply.

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I Shot Chewbacca

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The first time I shot Chewbacca felt like I was betraying my childhood. 

I was seven when my brother took me to see the original Star Wars. That’s when I met Chewbacca. Chewy was larger than life in every way, as a character and on the big screen. I loved all the characters, especially Han Solo.  At my young age, those characters were as real as anyone I knew, and that included a 7’6 Wookie. 

After seeing Star Wars, I identified as Han for 5 years. Chewbacca was my best friend and co-pilot. The character was sometimes played by my human best friend Eddie, who was good at barking dialogue and could do a solid Chewy roar. Over the years we had so many adventures in my mind and in my yard.  

Now, it’s fair to ask: how could I shoot Chewie? Well, as an adult I was playing the video game Star Wars: Battlefront. On this one level, you choose a character from the Empire. It was conflicting enough to choose which Stormtrooper I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be ANY Stormtrooper! They’re bad people! And horrible shots! 

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Great Pond State Forest

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The cover of my poetry book Self of Steam is a picture I took at Great Pond State Forest. The pond was iced over, and the reflection of the forest was ghostly. I thought the picture evoked the title of the book, and the spirit of the poem that it is named after.

Click the cover to purchase my book from Amazon.

I call the tall tree in the upper center of the picture “Great Tree”. I came up with this name to reflect its location by Great Pond, but also because I believe it is the tallest tree in the forest. I like to stand underneath it, appreciating its thick bole and impressive height.

Anna and I went to see our friends today. The above video gives a sense of how towering Great Tree is.

This is Brain Rock. Another of my friends in the woods. I like to stop and visit with both of them. They remind me to slow down, clear my thoughts, and appreciate what is around me.

Big Challenge from #tankatuesday

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This week’s challenge asked us to write three tanka and use these “kigo phrases” at the beginning or middle-hinge line:

#1: “the first month with sleet”
#2: “late winter garden”
#3: “blanket by the fire”

Here is mine!

The first month with sleet
Hike leaning into the wind
Beard reducing sting
A mask from the intense cold
My head bows to Nature's strength

The seeds we have not planted
No growth drinks the waning sun
Late winter garden
A product of fantasy
No farms no food then no feast

Wind opens the door
Icicle beard melts in warmth
A blanket by the fire
Wine glasses reflecting flames
My warmth is doubled by her

Be the first to buy my new poetry book Self of Steam

First Frost

/ boz bozeman / 4 Comments

I’m back on #TankaTuesday. This week’s challenge is to write about the First Frost.

Frist frost glistening
In my headlights as I turn
Diamonds perch on grass

This actually happened this morning, so the timing is perfect. Although a sign of cold and winter, the beauty of crystals lit up in the dark warms the season.

Of Streaks, and their ending

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For a while there, I was all about streaks. I had a Step Streak on my Fitbit, Snap Streaks on my Snapchat, and a WordPress Streak on my Jetpack App because I posted on this site every day for a while. Yep, I was a streaker. 

The first to go was my WordPress streak. I have to say I was always split about daily posting. I felt like I was finding content that was good, but it was tough to keep up the pace.  

At one point I was talking to some friends, but when I mentioned posting every day, my boy Bobby was like “Whoa, that’s too much.” He followed up saying that it might be too much for the audience, but it was definitely too much for me to sustain. Bobby reminded me that even though writing is my passion, it isn’t my job. 

Last summer swallowed my Snapchat streak. It was over three years old, so this is a sad story. In early August I got to a spot where I was focusing on a landscaping project, and everything else was ancillary. The streak got lost in these weeks, but I felt bad about spacing it. The end of it got me thinking that streaks are important, but that maybe it’s fine to let them go because they aren’t always sustainable.

I learned the most from the Fitbit streak. Over 500 straight days I did at least 13,000 steps. Often it was a lot more.  

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Bravery

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I held my mother’s hand tightly, and she grasped mine with all the strength of her 88-year-old muscles. We stood on the sidewalk right outside the hairdressing studio. We had been standing there for a while. 

Her grip conveyed her fear: it was the step she needed to make from the sidewalk, over the curb down to the parking lot. My car was parked two feet away, running, the passenger door open for her. 

I told my partially deaf, partially blind old mother that she’d “Done this a million times before.”  

“I know. But I’m scared this time.” 

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Editing as Microcosm

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I am hopefully getting near the end of the editing my first book of poetry titled Self of Steam. I am seeing this process as a microcosm of who I am creatively, and even in other parts of my life.

Each step mirrors how I work. Let’s go to a bulleted list to illustrate my point:

  • Hit with the enthusiasm for a project, I begin with full engagement, passion and energy. I will get a great deal done in a short amount of time.
  • Even when the fire cools a little, I am still caught by the glimmering possibility that is calling me from the still distant end. I work with determination, and look forward to building more.
  • The enthusiasm wears off, but my work ethic and ability to focus takes over.
  • I hit a major roadblock. Though I wrestle with it, it saps my energy and determination.
  • I begin to avoid the work.
  • I feel guilt for avoiding the work.
  • I return to the work, but the frustration is still there.
  • I finally get past the avoidance and frustration, and I get past the regret.
  • Project gets finished.
  • I wonder why I had to fight it so long, which somewhat mars the satisfaction of completing it.

This is the stage I am at with this website. I feel guilty about not posting, but I am a little overwhelmed by the prospect of keeping it going for a long time. Indeed, I am writing this more out internal pressure than any creative spark.

But this last part isn’t really so bad. I have learned about my capacity to create even if I don’t feel creative. This lesson may just take the place of some of the frustrations of my process.

Someday.

My first Haibun Monday – Equinox edition

/ boz bozeman / 15 Comments

I’m learning the Haibun form, which combines prose and poetry. I like this very much, since prose is my first love.

The challenge is to write a post about the equinox. Here’s mine:

Fall fell on its birthday this year in Connecticut. A twenty-degree dip in temperature in one day, cool replacing the wisps of warmth of a day ago. As if it knew its time had come and did not wish to tarry.

The sun is blocked out by clouds, so it is a grey day that we get half of. It’s been too nice for a lot of leaves to fall in the heavy rain: the trees’ green belies this sudden steely Autumn.

Darkness will do for the other half of the equinox. It is flexing now, beginning to feel its length stretch out before it, a host of days to darken.

Still I will balance
Rotating, tilting, spinning
Cycling through it all

Join the fun here.