Silents Are Golden

Until The Artist (Best Picture 2011) Growltiger had given up on most cinema as boring and predictable. The Artist, a French, Romantic-Comedy-Drama filmed in black and white and written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius stars Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo. And did the meower mention it's a Silent film?

In a Hollywood of clones--be honest; can you really tell Tobey Maguire from Jake Gyllenhaal from Elija Wood?--the leads in The Artist are as refreshing as a week's rain in the Sahara. Ms. Bejo lights up the screen the way Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly once did. Mr. Dujardin is not George Clooney, which, in itself, is an accomplishment. (The Growler wasn't aware the Academy awarded Oscars to films that didn't have some connection to openly Democratic, pro-Obama Clooney). Add in scene-stealer "Uggie", a Jack Russell terrier, and you have a film worth watching twice. Which I did.

By the way, Uggie sometimes gets a half page ad in the Wall Street Journal advocating rescue dogs since Uggie himself was a rescue. See The Artist if only to see Uggie.

Because The Artist showed and explained in such a delightful way the reason the actors in Silents mugged, gestured and eye-popped--they didn't have dialogue only intertitles--when The Sheik came on Turner Classic Movies a few weeks later, Growltiger watched. It was difficult getting past Valentino's leering, eye-popping and broad gestures and Agnes Ayers stereotypical female silliness, but the kitty watched from beginning to end. Unlike The Artist, The Sheik was not a good movie, but like The Artist, it lacked left-wing propaganda and that made it eminently watchable and enjoyable. No sitting on the edge of the seat waiting for the sucker-punch (Republicans/Conservatives/Libertarians are evil, Democrats/Socialists/Marxists are inherently pure and good). Or, as John Nolte terms it, enduring "the Liberal Tell" (Socialism/Communism/Marxism are Utopian-isms). Two Movies, No Propaganda. Batting a thousand here. The Growltiger was hooked. The DVR was set to record Turner's Silent Sundays.

Unlike Talkies, Silents have no discernible formula. One cannot be sure the writers won't knock off the hero; one can't even be sure who the hero is sometimes. Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) is the best anti-war movie the Growltiger has ever seen. Sure it is dated and stilted and the special effects aren't special or even effects, but the message is there and clear--War Ain't Beanbag. The Phantom of the Opera (1925) is the only Phantom of the Opera where the Phantom is a creepy villain who deserves to get it in the end. Sunrise (1927) had an unbelievable plot and a resolution that seemed impossible after the husband tried to murder his wife and Sea Hawk (1924) was good enough that the Growler ordered the book for her Kindle -- it was free thanks to a group dedicated to preserving old books in digital form. (The Tiger does not recommend modern readers read the century old novel unless, like the Growltiger, one likes century old novels which will sometimes use "quoth s/he" for "said").

Silents entertain and amuse but most of all aren't politically correct and so surprise. (Richard Barthelmess as an Asian in Broken Blossoms -1919).  Silents don't cast like a cooking class: One real Asian, one Hispanic, two African-Americans-- one of whom is a computer genius--one 105 lb female (any color or race) who beats up 210 lb white, grubby, nasty guys without breaking a sweat (or a bone), one dumb white guy who is rescued by the African-Americans or the macho chick, one Christian or Southern bigot/Big Business CEO/Nazi/Serbian/doctor villain, one George Clooney before or behind the cameras and as often as possible one Sean Penn thrown in in a small role so he can make a living because half the population avoid his films because of his politics. And, by the way, all presidents, judges and wise men are Morgan Freeman or Morgan Freeman types.

Silents aren't for everyone, but for those who like Growltiger enjoy cinema and are fed up with being propagandized, instructed, insulted and/or lectured to, they are, as cited above, like a week's rain in the Sahara desert.

Argo

The spouse and I saw "Argo" last weekend. It's an excellent film, well acted, well directed and worth seeing. But throughout the flick, the Growler kept wondering -- has Ben Affleck lost his mind? (Affleck, like most Hollywoodenheads is an ardent supporter of President Obama and is doing everything he can to get him reelected).  

So why would Affleck make--and the studio release--a month before the election -- a film that shows that nothing much has changed in Middle East in the 33 years since the "students" stormed the American embassy and took 52 Americans hostage for 444 days except that the Muslims have ratcheted up the violence and now instead of taking the Ambassador hostage (in Libya), they murdered him and three others and burned the place down.  

Did Mr. Affleck watch the movie before he released it? Did he really think it would benefit his and Ho'wood's cause to remind Americans three weeks before a tight election of the harm done when we have a feckless and naive Democrat  in the White House? 

"Argo" begins with the usual Hollywood disclaimer that the Iranian Revolution was really America's fault. Apparently, the Ayatollah Khoumeini was just standing there when the shi'ites hit the fan. According to Wikipedia, the Brits and the US, more specifically Churchill and dear old Ike, orchestrated a coup d'etat on August 19, 1953, threw out the democratically elected Iranian president, Mohammed Mosaddegh, and installed the Shah. Mr. Affleck's prologue didn't comment on why it took the Iranians 26 years to react to this insult to their national sovereignty or, for that matter, why the British Embassy wasn't stormed, too, but hey, let's not quibble about a quarter of a century.

Once Mr. Affleck got through with the obligatory America-bashing, he set out to tell a very good story and make a very good movie. He didn't sugar coat the violence done to the Americans and Iranians who had supported the Shah--including a very graphic scene of a man who'd been hanged in the street and left there. History relates that the CIA with the help of Canada got six people out, so the ending was known before the film began. That Mr. Affleck was able to keep the suspense so tight is a tribute to his talent as a director. But still, what was he thinking? Shouldn't he have waited until after the election to remind us what happens when Americans elect an apologist and appeaser in chief?

At War With Myself

It recently occurred to me that I am in serious danger of catching the psychiatric disorder known as Multiple Personality Disorder.

While I have never had any difficulty getting along with myself in the past, close examination of my genetic heritage exposes areas of discord dangerous to my ongoing congenial relationship with me. Eventually I could even end up locked in mortal combat with myself because of past injustices perpetrated upon some of my genetic heritage by other of my genetic heritage.

The cause of this potential turmoil is my paternal grandfather who emigrated from Denmark to the Virgin Islands where he met and married a woman of Spanish-Scottish descent. This produced my father who, so far as I know, got along with himself pretty well. But that was because his generation was unaware of the potential of professional victimhood. They were too busy fighting World War II.

My father emigrated to the United States where he married my mother, a woman of English and Irish heritage. This resulted in my mishmash of genes, chromosomes and DNA that are expected to coexist in a time when victimhood has become a cottage industry. (Since my Spanish great-grandfather originated in Spain, not South America, he is considered European which means his genes don’t qualify as being Hispanic.)

I am, in short, a European-American, a WASP in the vernacular, and, as such, am responsible for much of the misfortune in the world.

For example: My fondness for red meat has resulted in the deforestation of the rainforest, nee Jungle, in South America, a continent I have never visited. I’m also greedy for wanting to hang on to my earnings and not fork over what I earn to the Feds so they can give it to someone who deserves it more than I. According to someone named Bono, who earns more in a day than most people do in a year, we Euro-Americans (I shortened it) are responsible for poverty in Africa, another continent I’ve never been to. Why the Africans aren’t responsible for their own poverty, Bono didn’t explain.

Among our Euro-American panoply of sins is a connection, albeit tenuous, to Christopher Columbus who, by bringing Europeans to the new world (apparently it wasn’t built at the same time as the old one) destroyed a thriving civilization. (Why this thriving civilization didn’t discover Spain is beyond me.)

But all that pales when you consider that we Westerners wantonly assaulted the South Pole with hair spray, breath freshener, Freon and underarm deodorant, resulting in the fryanization of Planet Earth. Never mind that the globe got a lot hotter during the Medieval warming period, that this warming period also coincides with increased solar activity or that Mars is heating up, too. It’s us. We did it with automobiles and central heating.

This is heavy stuff. Just ask Bono.

But those are not the reasons my genes are in an uproar. The reason I’m not getting along with myself  is that parts of my genetic code have determined that I should make full restitution to other parts of my genetic code for ills perpetrated in the past.

Here’s how it goes: In the 8th and 9th centuries, my Viking ancestors sallied out of the frozen fjords in fearsome-looking dragon ships and wreaked havoc on whatever country they happened across. Unfortunately for my British ancestors, that’d be Britain, although one particularly inept navigator (Lief Ericsson) overshot Scotland, Britain and Ireland entirely and blundered into North America where people he called skraelings sent him packing.

The Vikings were an unsavory lot similar to Klingons on the old Star Trek series.Rather than just taking in the sights, they spent their time ashore raping, maiming, murdering, plundering and pillaging. Those they didn’t maim, rape, murder, plunder or pillage, they enslaved.

To rub salt in the wound, they also colonized parts of Britain and forced those they didn’t rape, maim, murder, plunder or pillage to pay protection money called Danegeld. And that’s the rub. My British genes want the money back. My Viking genes claim they don’t have the foggiest idea how many Dangelds are in a dollar. Frankly, it’s a dilemma.

My other European forebears cut up a little, too, but those particular genes generally have forgiven each other. My Spanish ancestors went so far as to send an armada against my British ancestors, but my British genes don’t hold that against them. Probably because they didn’t make them cough up Spaingeld. And despite the fact my British ancestors cut the head off the Scots’ queen, my self insists these altercations come out pretty much a draw. Except for that little Inquisition thing. But then again, none of me is Jewish or Moorish and Protestants hadn’t been invented then.

If only these double helices were as open-minded when it comes to the Vikings. The English, Irish and Scottish chromosomes remain incensed. Probably because of the slavery thing. Apparently raping, maiming, murdering, plundering and pillaging is small potatoes when compared to slavery. Never mind that every group has either enslaved or been enslaved since the first apes climbed down from the trees. The Viking genes further claim that no Dane living today took part in any of the Vikings’ bad behavior, that what happened centuries ago can’t possibly be pertinent today. But the British and Scottish genes aren’t buying it. They demand payment.

To make matters even more complicated, I married someone of French-English descent, and if our son should happen to elope with a Russian, one can only imagine the conflict in their children’s cells owing to that Imperialistic little dwarf, Napoleon Bonaparte.

But on the bright side, it could be worse. I could have Macedonian genes and owe reparations to the descendants of the entire known world in the time of Alexander.

Beam Me Up, Scottie

By now, readers of Growltiger's Litterbox get that this cat is a tennis fan. Mee-oow! 

Right now, even though Growltiger pays for cable and has The Tennis Channel, TTC isn't televising the Western and Southern Tournament in Cincinnati. That's because ESPN bought the rights to televise the tournament, but in its infinite wisdom, elected instead to televise Little League Baseball. You read that right. Little League Baseball. Not major league baseball, not even minor league baseball. Little League Baseball. Little kids.

To ESPN's credit, it does have a crawl informing those who might think they want to watch professional tennis go to their computer instead and watch on ESPN III. 

Beam me up, Scottie; I've landed on Planet Moron!

How is it possible that in the 21st century, with cable and Fios and direct satellite TV, the rules and regulations of broadcast do not allow broadcasters to compete? Oh, damn. Scrub that. I forgot about lobbyists. I forgot about crony capitalism. I forgot about how we the people, have little or no say in our lives anymore.  

Mission Accomplished

To: Fellow Tennis Gods

From: Tennis God in charge of Draws

Date: August 18, 2012

Subject: Mission Accomplished

Our boy, Roger, is playing his fellow Swissard, Stan Wawrinka, in the semis of the Western and Southern Open today, so unless he breaks a leg he's in the finals. His record against Stan is pretty good: 10 wins to 1 loss.

I thought for sure I'd get caught this time, putting 4th seeded Ferrer (0-13 against Roger), Berdych (4-10) who's having a bad year, Monaco (0-4) and, of course, Mardy Fish who just had a heart ablation procedure a few months ago in Roger's half of the draw, but nobody seemed to notice save for some cat named Growltiger. Tennis fans, sports reporters and tennis commentators are not going to get a call from NASA any time soon, are they?

Meanwhile, I put stacked Djokovic's half with a very hot Del Potro (6) and Murray (3) (both of whom just beat him at the Olympics) along with Tipsarevic (7), his friend and countryman, and Seppi (who nearly took him out of Roland Garros). Naturally, I saw to it that Julien Bennateau was in Djokovic's half, also. Though it was a fluke, the Frenchman nearly beat Roger at Wimbledon. As I said, tennis reporters, commentators and fans are not going to be calculating the trajectory for the next Mars landing, are they? 

So on to the U. S. Open. With Rafa out of the mix, I'll make sure to stick Murray and Del Potro in Djokovic's half maximizing our boy's chances. Don't worry about the fans, commentators and reporters catching on. They're clueless. But if you need brain surgery, better not call any of them. The tumor would have to be growing out your ear before they'd notice. 

Back on Course

Whew. Now that our Roger is back on top of the tennis pile and seeded number one at Cincinnati, we tennis gods don't have to screw with the draw like we did after that Serbian upstart, Djokovic, clawed his way to number 1.

Four majors have been played since Djokovic got the top spot, and, knowing our Roger has a tougher time with Rafael Nadal than he does with Djokovic, we've had to be contortionists to keep Fed in the Djoker's half of the draw. Like at the 2011 U. S. Open when for the first time since 2007, we put 1 and 3 in the same half. It was only pure coincidence that Djokovic was number 1 and our Roger number 3.  In the 3 years prior to that, 2 and 3 were in the same half, but had we done that in 2011, Roger and Nadal would have met in the semifinals and thus only one could have made it to the finals. Didn't want that.

We goofed at the 2012 Australian and sure enough our Roger and Nadal met in the semis. Djokovic and Nadal gave the fans a 6 hour tennis final of superb tennis, but it just didn't suit us not to have our Roger there. So we fixed it at the French Open. In 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011, we put 1 and 4 in the same half of the draw. Had we done that in 2012, our Roger would have been in Rafael's half. No way, Jose. Nobody noticed that we put Roger back in Novak's half where he belonged except some troublemaker blogger named Growltiger.

It was no problem putting Roger and Novak in the same half at Wimbledon. Wimbledon has traditions and one of the traditions is that Federer and Djokovic are in the same half of the draw no matter where they are ranked. For example: 2008 when Roger was 1 and Novak 3; 2009 when Roger was 2 and Novak 4; 2010 when Roger was 2 and Novak 3; 2011 when Novak was 2 and Roger 3. So in 2012 with Novak ranked 1 and our Roger the third seed, nobody questioned us except that cat Growltiger. 

As we hoped, Roger defeated the upstart Serb in the semis and went on to win the tournament and reclaim his rightful place on the tennis throne. 

With Nadal injured, he no longer is in Federer's way. (Even if he weren't hurt, he'd be ranked third, so we'd stick him in Novak's half. Watch for it in the U. S. Open). 

Unfortunately, Djokovic is ranked number 2, so it just isn't possible to put him and Roger in the same half at Cincinnati. Even the dullest tennis fans and stupidest commentators would notice if we went that far. So we did the next best thing we could. We made sure Murray (3) and Del Potro (6) wouldn't take him out before the finals. Yep, there they are over in Novak's half where they belong. Are we slick or not? 

Foundation Garments

One of the reasons the “mainstream” media try to convince you that the Internet, talk radio and Fox News are biased is that those entities tell you stuff the majority media doesn’t think is any of your business. Some of it isn’t--like whether Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky had an affair. (Whether he used government resources to cover it up or lied under oath was your business, however.)

So, if you’re so inclined to get your news from the majorities, you might not know that the Maggie Daley charity got $6.5-million city contract 4 days before Mayor Daley left office (1) because it came from the Drudge Report referencing a Chicago blogger who keeps up with such things. Whether this was reported by the Chicago (or any other) media, I do not know.

So how come with all the brouhaha about the “rich not paying their fair share”  none of the majority media question why the super-rich all have Foundations? Bill and Melinda Gates, Bill and Hillary Clinton, Warren Buffett (who says he doesn’t pay enough in taxes). Even Roger Federer, Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal (tennis players) have Foundations.

So how does one start a Foundation, and how come the rich dentist next door doesn’t have one?

“You don't have to amass nearly as much money as Gates or Buffett to start your own private foundation, but you should start with a great big pile. Setup and maintenance costs can rapidly erase a small foundation's investment returns. Timothy McIntosh, a financial planner in Tampa, typically doesn't begin talking about starting private foundations with clients unless they have $5 million or so to commit.” ( 5)

“There's a big reason that wealthy people set up their own private foundations, often donating appreciated stock in their companies. They avoid paying capital-gains taxes on the value of the gift and get an immediate --but potentially limited--tax deduction. They also benefit because the invested assets of the foundation will continue to grow tax-free. That enhances their ability to give generously in the future.” (3)

Well, there you have it. Dr. Silverfillings might be rich according to our president, but his income is not high enough to generate the infusion of cash it takes to start a Foundation. For that, you need to found Microsoft (Gates), own a brokerage (Buffet), play professional tennis (Federer, Djokovic and Nadal) or be a former president and first lady of the United States (the Clintons).

So giving generously is the reason Astra-Zeneca, Ford, Susan Thomas Buffet, the Waltons (not the TV family, but rather the Wal-Mart guys), William and Flora Hewlett and David and Lucille Packard (Hewlett-Packard), Michael and Susan Dell (computers), John Templeton (Wall Street), the Weill family (whoever they are), etc. all have Foundations? As does Leona Helmsly who once famously say “only little people pay taxes”? (4)

Or is it that “Donations to a private foundation are tax deductible. However, it is important to understand that monies are not necessarily going directly to charity immediately. The private foundation is only required to distribute 5% of its asset value per year to charity. Therefore, the IRS has establish (sic) limits on how much of your charitable deduction can be used in any particular year.”  (2)

Pardon the cynicism, but if giving generously is the point, why not just give generously? Why go through all the trouble to set up a Foundation. Unless, of course, the point is to shelter income  from the IRS?

References:

1.(http://www.chicagobusiness.com/section/blogs?blogID=greg-hinz&plckController=Blog&plckBlogPage=BlogViewPost&uid=1daca073-2eab-468e-9f19-ec177090a35c&plckPostId=Blog:1daca073-2eab-468e-9f19-ec177090a35cPost:eb77893c-c97f-432a-9e10-e1a34923d106&plckScript=blogScript&plckElementId=blogDest)

2.  (http://www.privatefoundation.com/tax_advantages.html)

3. http://articles.moneycentral.msn.com/RetirementandWills/RetireInStyle/YouCanBeYourOwnCharitableFoundation.aspx

4. http://foundationcenter.org/findfunders/topfunders/top100giving.html

5. http://www.usatoday.com/money/perfi/columnist/waggon/2006-06-29-charity_x.htm

The Djoke Is On

The Wimbledon draw came out today, and Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer are on the same side of the draw. Apparently, whomever plants the grand slam seeds managed once again to keep Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal from potentially encountering each other before the finals, thus keeping alive the hope of the elusive “Fed-Al Final.”

Since they met in the 2007 U. S. Open finals, Federer and Djokovic have been on the same side of the draw in 16 out of the 19 grand slams played. If you think that’s skewed, 4th seed, Andy Murray, has landed in Rafael Nadal’s section 18 out of the 19 times. Sorta gives a new definition to the "luck of the draw", doesn’t it?  

Djokovic became the world’s number one after winning Wimbledon in 2011. In the four grand slam tournaments since (U. S. Open, Australian Open, French Open and Wimbledon), only one (the Australian Open 2012) has placed 2nd seeded Nadal and 3rd seeded Federer on the same side of the draw. In contrast, in the six slams preceding Djokovic's ascent to the top of the tennis pile, the 2nd and 3rd seeds were on the same side of the draw.  Apparently the tennis gods are doing whatever is necessary to keep Federer and Nadal out of each other’s way.  

Had Wimbledon seeded the top four this year as they did last year and the year before, Federer and Nadal would have been in the same half, destroying any possibility of their meeting in the finals. Can’t have that.

You'd think the ATP, which is supposed to be looking out for all the players, not just those named Federer and Nadal, would lodge a protest. If not, then certainly Djokovic and Murray, the pawns in this apparently ongoing pursuit of an elusive Feder-Nadal Final, would at least grouse about it to the sports writers. And why haven't Brad Gilbert, the McEnroes, Mary Carillo or any of the other tennis commentators commented? 

Maybe this year. Or maybe not. 

On Britannia


I gave fair warning that some of the articles in Growltiger’s Litter Box will bore. This probably is one of them.  I’m a bean counter. I like to play with numbers and data. I see patterns. Most of all, I notice the fly on the pillow case during the love scene (to quote film director, Richard Lester).


On Friday, June 22nd, the Wimbledon draw comes out, and for the first time since 2004, the top seed is not named Nadal or Federer. 


For the past seven Wimbledons, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal have been on opposite sides of the draw as was fitting since the pair lobbed the number one ranking back and forth like a badminton bird. But in 2011, a skunk by the name of Novak Djokovic wandered into the Federer-Nadal garden party and spoiled the fun. 


Considered the perennial bridesmaid since he unexpectedly made the finals of the 
2007 U. S. Open, Djokovic seemed content as the 3rd best player in the world. But that changed in 2011 when Djokovic went on a tear, winning 41 straight matches, including the Australian Open, until he lost at the semifinals at Roland Garros to–you guessed it: Roger Federer. 


Djokovic won the 2011 Wimbledon and became the world’s top tennis player. 


Two months later, he entered the U. S. Open as the number one seed.


The definition of a tennis draw is as follows: The designation of who will play whom in a bracketed, elimination tournament. After the seeds are placed, the rest of the players' names are drawn at random and placed in the remaining brackets. It's usually considered a "bad draw" to have to play one of the top seeds in an early round. 


It is set in stone that the top seed is placed at the top of the draw and the 2nd seed at the bottom. But apparently where the 3rd and 4th seeds land is as arbitrary as it is important. (If three is in the 2nd seed’s half, it assures only one of them can be in the final). For those who want another Federer-Nadal final, this is a problem. 


So who decides where to place three and four? The tennis officials? The luck of the draw? 


Had the prior six slams been any indication, at the 2011 U. S. Open, the 4th seed (Andy Murray) would have been in Djokovic’s half of the draw. Unfortunately, this would have meant Nadal and Federer were in the other half and the potential for a Federer-Nadal final an impossibility. Apparently the tennis gods didn't want that, so for the first time since 2007, the 3rd seed landed in the top half of the draw.  Happenstance? Or were the tennis gods messing with us?  


The 2011 U. S. Open was the 5th slam in a row that Federer and Djokovic were in the same section. In fact, it was  the 12th time out of the last 14 slams they ended up in the same half. (The exceptions: The 2008 and 2010 French Open where Rafael Nadal is considered unbeatable on the red clay of Roland Garros. See French Kiss, this blogsite.) 


Is 12 out of 14 slams a coincidence? An oddity? The luck of the draw? If so, this coincidental oddity would be repeated at the 2012 French Open where, for the first time since 2006, the 4th seed was not in the top seed’s section. Once again, Federer and Nadal were in opposite sides of the draw.  


Professional sports is entertainment, and there is no question tennis fans want a Federer-Nadal finals. So what will Wimbledon do? Give the fans that possibility by placing 3rd seed Federer in Djokovic’s half as the French and U. S. Opens did? Or follow the procedure of the past two years and place the 2nd and 3rd seeds together in the bottom half precluding the possibility of a Federer-Nadal final? We will know on Friday. But whatever happens, it will be interesting for those of us who like to count beans.

French Kiss 

In tennis, there are four major tournaments–The Australian and U.S. Opens played on hard courts, Wimbledon which is played on grass, and the French Open which is played on red clay, sometimes sneeringly referred to as dirt.


On June 11, 2012, Rafael Nadal won his seventh French Open title, defeating Novak Djokovic in four sets beset by rain which gave the final--carried over to Monday--a humid air of anti-climax.

Mr. Nadal is inarguably the best clay court player in the history of the sport and currently one of the three best tennis players in the world on any surface. Fortunately for Mr. Nadal, in the French Open this year, the other two were on the other side of the draw and had to face each other before they got a shot at him -- as they have been for 12 out of the last 14 majors and it hasn't mattered what their ranking was.

Just as conveniently for Mr. Nadal, the player who had defeated him a month ago on clay (Madrid, May 2012) likewise was on the Djokovic-Federer side of the draw.

There was a lot on the line in the French Open this year: If Mr. Federer won, he’d have added another major title to his impressive collection of tournament scalps giving him an almost insurmountable record of major titles. If Mr. Djokovic won, he’d be the first player since 1969 to hold all four titles at once. If Mr. Nadal won, he’d win his seventh French Open. Wonder which one the French Federation was most interested in?

Any die-hard tennis fan betting on the outcome of the French Open easily could see Mr. Nadal’s path to the final was a fait d’accompli unless he broke a leg, or like the racehorse, I’ll Have Another, got tendonitis and had to be scratched. Mr. Djokovic’s and Mr. Federer’s paths, on the other hand, were not so easy. Before they could get to Mr. Nadal, they’d have to face each other in the semi finals. That’s assuming either one made it that far. Their half of the draw was saturated with big-hitting land mines named Del Potro, Anderson, Berdych and Tsonga. With the exception of Mr. Anderson, all had been in the finals of a major, and Mr. Del Potro has a U. S. Open title (2009).

Mr. Nadal’s side of the draw was not so heavily populated with potholes. Andy Murray (4) who has been in two majors, hasn’t beaten Mr. Nadal in a major since 2008, and had a bad back. Fellow Spaniard, David Ferrer (seeded 6th), has only one clay court victory over Mr. Nadal, and that was eight years ago. Mr. Ferrer has never reached a major final. Another of Mr. Nadal’s Spanish teammates, Nicholas Almagro, was likewise in his half of the draw. Like Mr. Ferrer, Mr. Almagro has never been in the finals of a major tournament. Serbian Janko Tipsarevic (8) also was in Mr. Nadal's half of the draw. Mr. Tipsarevic has never taken a set off Mr. Nadal.

Interestingly in the French Opens of 2009, 2010 and 2011, the number 4 player was in the top half of the draw with the number 1 seed. In those three years, Messrs. Federer and Djokovic were seeded 2 and 3. This year, with Mr. Djokovic seeded 1, the number 4 player found himself in the bottom half of the draw with Mr. Nadal (2).

Gives new meaning to “the luck of the draw” doesn’t it?

Waiting to Fast Forward

Some people wait for the bus, intellectuals tend to wait for Godot, but when it comes to watching tennis on television, I wait for the DVR to get far enough ahead so I can fast forward through the stuff I don't want to see. 

It isn't the commercials I object to. I accept commercials as necessary because they pay the bills. Frankly, some are quite entertaining. I actively seek the one with Novak Djokovic playing tennis on an airplane wing and the amusing one where Roger Federer is stopped by TSA because he has Swiss chocolate balls in his carry-on. I don't mind seeing ads for Tennis equipment and clothes and I get a real kick out of the tournaments showing shots of the pros having a good time as the French is doing during this tournament. I enjoy the interviews with both the men and the women and like to hear them analyze the game just past. I love trying to figure out what Rafael Nadal is saying. I rarely succeed. This year he seems to have forgotten his birthday. 

So why is waiting for the DVD to record ahead so I can fast forward as important as waiting for Godot to show up? Well, frankly, it's the women's matches where these long-legged, pony-tailed Lulus shriek like a Banshee every time they hit the ball, coming out with ear-splitting shrieks that sound as though they're giving birth on the tennis court. That or passing a kidney stone the size of a golf ball. 

Then there's the schizophrenic switching from one match to another. Like this morning on the Tennis Channel when world number 1, Novak Djokovic, was down two sets to 1 to Andreas Seppi (22 in the world).  Exciting stuff. Could Djokovic come back? What was the matter with him? Could Seppi continue to play out of his mind? Was this going to be a three setter? Or would it go four or five? Djokovic holds three major tittles at this time (Wimbledon, US Open and Australian Open). If he wins the French, he will be the first player in a long time to hold all four major titles at once. There's a lot riding on his matches. I was on the edge of the couch. But instead of sticking with the Djokovic-Seppi match, the Tennis Channel opted to show the last few points of a woman's match being played at the same time as the Seppi-Djokovic match. I tried to fast forward to get back to the match to which I was committed and had been watching, but the DVR had caught up and I was on real time. Bummer. So to give the DVR time to do its thing, I bailed and took the dog for a walk . Hopefully, by the time I get back to the tennis, the DVR will have trudged along and given me the freedom to watch matches that are interesting instead of matches that I have to watch with the mute button on.

 

Tennis Anyone?

May 19, 2012.

Growltiger's Litter Box is a depository for a variety of  opinions, thoughts, interests and ideas.  My initial blog was a sad one, the account of my German shepherd who lost his battle with a deadly cancer called hemangiosarcoma.  


This article is on an entirely different subject: Men's Professional Tennis. 


The men's game today is exciting and fast-paced with many extraordinary players on the tour. At the top of the pile are four exciting players with four different, distinct styles .  Novak Djokovic is a human slinky who stretches, slides, twists, skids and unfolds to get to every ball. He also has the best return of serve in the game and a down the line backhand that greases the line. Roger Federer is a ballet dancer whose feet never seem to touch the ground. He glides around the court with the grace of a gazelle and has no flaws in his game  save for the possibility that he is human and can make a mistake on occasion. Andy Murray  looks as  heavy-footed as a Clydesdale, but he runs like Secretariat. His drop shot hits the court with a thud and lies there. Rafael Nadal comes across as both matador and bull. He never gives up and has a buggy whip forehand that has more spin than a political operative. 


These four have dominated the top of the men's game for years. At first Federer was Number 1, then Nadal took it over. Djokovic seemed stuck for ever at 3 and Murray at 4. Fans got used to seeing Federer and Nadal in every final unless one of them was injured.


But in 2011, Djokovic lobbed a dead fish into the punch bowl, going on a tear and winning 43 matches until he lost to Federer in the semifinals of the French Open. No longer could fans  and sports writers count on a "Fed-al" final and many welcomed Djokovic like a skunk at a garden party.


There are four major tournaments in Tennis played on three different surfaces: The Australian Open (hard court), the French Open (also called Roland Garros) on clay, Wimbledon (grass) and the US Open (hard). Obviously it is difficult for any player to win on three such different surfaces and to win all four majors is a great accomplishment. (Federer and Nadal already have done so). 


When 2011 began, Djokovic was stuck in his Number 3 slot, but after winning the Australian Open (where he played Federer in the semi-finals ) and a few other tournaments, he rose to Number 2, dropping Federer to Number 3. Nadal remained Number 1.  At The French Open, he once again met Federer in the semi-finals. Thus ended Djokovic's winning streak.


The French is followed in a month's time by Wimbledon. With Nadal seeded 1, Djokovic 2, Federer 3 and Murray 4, Federer and Djokovic were once again on the same side of the draw. This is reasonable since the best possible final would be 1 versus 2 or 3 rather than 4. (Of course, upsets are possible and it is possible to have a 3 vs. 4 final, though I'm sure sure that has happened in recent times.) Djokovic defeated Nadal at Wimbledon and became the Number 1 tennis player in the world.  I assumed when the four next contested at the US Open in New York, Number 4 would be in Number 1's section of the draw as had happened at the Australian and French Opens and Wimbledon. But when the draw came out, once again, Djokovic and Federer were on the same side of the draw. Forgive me for wondering if the tournament directors aren't monkeying with the draw to try to get the elusive Federer-Nadal final.

Leto's Battle with Canine Hemangiosarcoma

Today, the May 6, 2012, I create my Google blog "Growltiger's Litter Box". 


Growltiger was the name of a beloved cat who died in April 2005, but who lives on in my heart and memory and will always be a part of me. She is not alone. My heart is crowded with pets who left this world all too soon and now reside in my heart with Growltiger.


While Growltiger used her litter box for a specific purpose, my litter box is for the deposit of thoughts, observations, interests and opinions that are part of my life--everything that interests me from politics to tennis to films to introspection to the painful loss of my beloved dog, Leto. Some of it will be interesting to others I hope; some will be boring I'm afraid; if I'm lucky a few articles will be informative. I intend also to post brief excerpts from my three novels including a blast at a publisher which showed interest in one of them, asked for the whole manuscript, informed me it had moved to the second stage but now doesn't even answer my emails. 


Today, I want to share with any readers I'm fortunate to have the heartbreak of losing a beloved animal companion and to prepare anyone who might have to grapple with the devil named hemangioscarcoma for how quickly the end comes. I wasn't prepared. I thought we would have at least a day to say our goodbyes. As it was, he was gone in less than an hour.


On February 21, 2012, our male German shepherd, Duke Leto, Dog of Dune, spent a perfectly normal Tuesday. He took his walk, barked (which he loved to do) and ate a hearty supper, but two hours later, he showed symptoms of obvious distress. Worried, we took him to the Emergency Veterinary Hospital  where he was found to have blood in his abdomen. Ultrasound showed his spleen had ruptured. Since there was no indication that  his heart or any other abdominal organs were involved, we opted for splenectomy (the removal of the spleen). We remained in the hospital until 3:30 a.m. Wednesday morning when he came out of surgery and was in recovery. Only then could we allow ourselves to go home to bed.


Leto spent three days in the hospital, and on Friday, we were called to come get him. The minute he saw us, his eyes brightened and he nearly pulled the veterinary technician off her feet. He was more than ready to go home. On the way, we stopped by Wendy's and got him a hamburger which he wolfed it down like the voracious eater he was until the day he died. Other than the shaved belly and clips that were removed ten days later, there was no indication anything ever had been wrong. 


Six days after surgery, the pathology report came in, and we were hit with the devastating news that Leto had hemangiosarcoma, an aggressive cancer of the blood vessels seen primarily in dogs and primarily in German shepherds and golden retrievers. A tough two days ensued as we had to make peace with the fact that our dog was going to die. He was given two to four months without chemotherapy; nine months with chemotherapy. 


Though Leto had pet insurance with a double cancer policy, we opted not to subject him to chemotherapy when there was no hope for a cure. We wanted what time he had left to be spent with us and his adopted sister, Mystique (a female German shepherd) not at a hospital receiving chemo with it's attendant side effects. 


Leto had a great two months, eight days, and last Sunday, April 30, Leto lost his battle with hemagiosarcoma. He had a fine day. He took a walk, peed on every bush, stone and tree he wanted to mark, tried to apprehend a squirrel, shared a half an overcooked fried egg with his sister, spent the afternoon lying in front of the TV. At 3:55, he was fine. Ten minutes later, he was weak and breathing hard. He had suffered another abdominal bleed, this probably from his liver. We took him back to the vet hospital, hoping there might be something they could do for him, but there wasn't, and we had to make the decision to let him go.


This past week has been painful and difficult. My husband and I have shed many tears, but we know we cannot allow our grief for Leto to make us ignore our other shepherd, so we go on with our life. The "firsts" were the hardest. The night we returned from the hospital knowing Leto would never again be waiting for us. The first morning we came downstairs and he wasn't there to greet us, putting away his bowl, lash and collar, removing the chicken wire from around the flower pots he liked to dig up, when his regular vet called to say he'd teared up when he got our letter saying Leto had died. I'm sure his birthday will be difficult as will Christmas. He was always a part of our Christmas card. But we slowly are emerging from the fog of our loss. Gradually, the happy memories will replace the sorrow, and Leto will join Growltiger, Rommel, Raven, Bubb, Jiggs, Becket, Ch'iang and Digby in our hearts and memories where he will live forever.