Happy Holidays from Gozer Country. Do NOT approach the tree.
Monday, December 11, 2006
The Pasttime of a past time.
Around the turn of the last century, when all was well and good in the world, in the gleaming emerald (read: wet) city of Seattle, Washington, there stood a Texaco. It was an ordinary gas sation/ food mart (is "mart" even a word?) in every respect except that it happened to be located right next door to the future historical monument known as The Plantation, a building that housed some of the greatest comedic minds of our generation, whenever me and Jeff went over there.
The Plantation was a large house that was equipped with all of the amenties, Piano room, Recording studio, Foosball table, Smoking porch, close proximity to Dick's, and the most important feature of the Plantation for the purposes of this story, The Trampoline.
It came from the picturesque childhood home of one Mark Siano, located in beautiful Mukilteo, Washington, a ferry town.
The trampoline was your standard issue round 14 footer, with springs and those blue pads. And while jumping on it was fun, we were always looking for a way to enhance the festivities.
And enhance we did.
Mark's lovely sister, Lieta Siano was visiting the 3rd world nation of Cambodia, for reasons I don't fully grasp, when she came upon a small, round ball made of wicker. Perhaps it was Providence, or maybe she just knew that Mark really likes balls (zing!), but for whatever reason, she decided to purchase this little sphere and transport it back to The Great Northwest and the aforementioned Plantation.
That's where Mark and I come in. We fancied ourselves intellectuals in those days and we weren't content to merely jump on the tramp, so we incorporated the new ball into our jumping fun. We placed a hula-hoop on the ground about twenty feet from the trampoline, and one of us would stand inside it and pitch the ball while the other attempted to kick it as far up against the house as possible.
It sounds simple, I know. It was. But it was also incredibly fun.
We were content enough in the beginning to play it by ourselves, but soon enough the other residents of The Plantation grew curious about the sounds of laughter and the soft thudding against the wall coming from the backyard, and they joined in. In that instant, our game became a sport. A phenomenon. A pasttime.
We named the game Cambodia Ball, naturally, and as the first ever Cambodia Ball Competition Committee, we also set up the rules. I won't bore you with too many details (you are welcome) but there are a few worth noting.
A: Each "batter" was given five attempts at kicking the Cambodia ball as high and as far as possible. This was not an easy task as you had to be in full bounce at the time and time your kicks just right.
B: Various points were awarded for different areas of the house. Below the gutter was nothing, up near the roof was three points, you get the idea. Of course, the game quickly became about The Long Ball. If you could kick it over and clear the house completely, it was a Home Run, and we saw our fair share of spectacular ones. I'd have to consult the record books, but if I recall correctly, a young man named Michael McQuilken is credited with the longest of them all, clearing not just the Plantation, but the entire front yard and the street (2nd Ave NE) in front. Most impressive.
C: When not actively pitching or batting, the remainder of the players played "defense" whereby they would try to catch the rebound from off of the house and garner themselves one point. It is important to note that all players were going for said rebound, and that no rules barring interference of any kind were ever drafted. It was brutal.
The game itself was fun enough. But I really enjoyed the game within the game, The Fetching. Every so often, a kick would careen off the batsman's foot at such an odd angle that it would become lodged in a tree or better yet, on the roof of The Texaco. At this point, all players shifted their focus to retrieving the cambodia ball by whatever means necessary. Be it throwing things into the tree, using tools we had lying around (hockey stick, spare gutter), or simply climbing up on the roof of Texaco. I once witnessed the fastest retrieval from the Texaco roof on record. Miss Erika Kuever went from the lawn the the roof and back to the lawn in 23 seconds. I know because we timed those things back then. It was not only the record time which made this feat spectacular, but the fact that she was wearing NO SHOES whatsoever. The beauty of it still haunts my dreams.
Well, that's all the reminiscing i have in me for right now, time to take a nap and then maybe watch Matlock. Thanks for stopping by dear readers, and remember, if you thought this story was boring, at least it was a story and not some bullshit movie review like I've been doing.
PS-Casino Royale was awesome.
Around the turn of the last century, when all was well and good in the world, in the gleaming emerald (read: wet) city of Seattle, Washington, there stood a Texaco. It was an ordinary gas sation/ food mart (is "mart" even a word?) in every respect except that it happened to be located right next door to the future historical monument known as The Plantation, a building that housed some of the greatest comedic minds of our generation, whenever me and Jeff went over there.
The Plantation was a large house that was equipped with all of the amenties, Piano room, Recording studio, Foosball table, Smoking porch, close proximity to Dick's, and the most important feature of the Plantation for the purposes of this story, The Trampoline.
It came from the picturesque childhood home of one Mark Siano, located in beautiful Mukilteo, Washington, a ferry town.
The trampoline was your standard issue round 14 footer, with springs and those blue pads. And while jumping on it was fun, we were always looking for a way to enhance the festivities.
And enhance we did.
Mark's lovely sister, Lieta Siano was visiting the 3rd world nation of Cambodia, for reasons I don't fully grasp, when she came upon a small, round ball made of wicker. Perhaps it was Providence, or maybe she just knew that Mark really likes balls (zing!), but for whatever reason, she decided to purchase this little sphere and transport it back to The Great Northwest and the aforementioned Plantation.
That's where Mark and I come in. We fancied ourselves intellectuals in those days and we weren't content to merely jump on the tramp, so we incorporated the new ball into our jumping fun. We placed a hula-hoop on the ground about twenty feet from the trampoline, and one of us would stand inside it and pitch the ball while the other attempted to kick it as far up against the house as possible.
It sounds simple, I know. It was. But it was also incredibly fun.
We were content enough in the beginning to play it by ourselves, but soon enough the other residents of The Plantation grew curious about the sounds of laughter and the soft thudding against the wall coming from the backyard, and they joined in. In that instant, our game became a sport. A phenomenon. A pasttime.
We named the game Cambodia Ball, naturally, and as the first ever Cambodia Ball Competition Committee, we also set up the rules. I won't bore you with too many details (you are welcome) but there are a few worth noting.
A: Each "batter" was given five attempts at kicking the Cambodia ball as high and as far as possible. This was not an easy task as you had to be in full bounce at the time and time your kicks just right.
B: Various points were awarded for different areas of the house. Below the gutter was nothing, up near the roof was three points, you get the idea. Of course, the game quickly became about The Long Ball. If you could kick it over and clear the house completely, it was a Home Run, and we saw our fair share of spectacular ones. I'd have to consult the record books, but if I recall correctly, a young man named Michael McQuilken is credited with the longest of them all, clearing not just the Plantation, but the entire front yard and the street (2nd Ave NE) in front. Most impressive.
C: When not actively pitching or batting, the remainder of the players played "defense" whereby they would try to catch the rebound from off of the house and garner themselves one point. It is important to note that all players were going for said rebound, and that no rules barring interference of any kind were ever drafted. It was brutal.
The game itself was fun enough. But I really enjoyed the game within the game, The Fetching. Every so often, a kick would careen off the batsman's foot at such an odd angle that it would become lodged in a tree or better yet, on the roof of The Texaco. At this point, all players shifted their focus to retrieving the cambodia ball by whatever means necessary. Be it throwing things into the tree, using tools we had lying around (hockey stick, spare gutter), or simply climbing up on the roof of Texaco. I once witnessed the fastest retrieval from the Texaco roof on record. Miss Erika Kuever went from the lawn the the roof and back to the lawn in 23 seconds. I know because we timed those things back then. It was not only the record time which made this feat spectacular, but the fact that she was wearing NO SHOES whatsoever. The beauty of it still haunts my dreams.
Well, that's all the reminiscing i have in me for right now, time to take a nap and then maybe watch Matlock. Thanks for stopping by dear readers, and remember, if you thought this story was boring, at least it was a story and not some bullshit movie review like I've been doing.
PS-Casino Royale was awesome.
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