Some Guys

Previously, I mentioned that Lisa and I are on a quest to see performers making their last rounds. Generally, these are rock and/or pop performers who hit the charts during our high school and college years.

One such performer is Rod Stewart. We saw him perform in Atlanta last summer. Rod closed the show with one of my favorite songs, "Some Guys Have All the Luck."

Over the years, I have thought a lot about that song. In particular, there is one passage that reminds me of some of the friends of my youth. Some guys have all the luck. Some guys have all the pain. Some guys get all the breaks. Some guys do nothing but complain.

Among the guys I spent time with during those years–-some of whom I am still friends with–--there was a guy from each bucket in Rod's song.

Some Guys Have All the Luck
One of the good friends from my youth epitomized this line.

Despite our closeness, there was always a competitive element to our friendship and I always felt this guy was a half-step ahead of me at every turn. Slightly better grades. Slightly better with the girls. Slightly better athlete. 

Legend had it that he once made his case to a teacher for a better grade and, at the 11th hour, she releneted. If he could find a four leaf clover, she'd give him the bump. Naturally, he found a patch of four leaf clovers.

Some Guys Have All the Pain
Another of my high school/college friends is sadder story.

He had met the girl of his dreams. It looked like they were on a one-way path to the altar. Then. something happened. They broke up. Couldn't resolve the issue. They didn't get back together.

She married someone else. He did, too. But it didn't take. 

Every time I saw him over the years, there was a air of pain about him. I imagined he always thought about what could have been.

Eventually, he left town - still unmarried. I hope things turned out for him. And, I too, wonder what would have happened if the two of them had been able to work it out.

Some Guys Get All the Breaks
One of my closest high school friends always seemed to get the breaks. I thought, in some ways, it was because he was slightly older than the rest of us. 

He was the first of us to get a part-time job. While most of us couldn't sign up for Driver's Ed (if your birthday fell later in the school year, there was generally not a slot for you), he got right in.

Like my first friend example, he was also popular with the ladies. And he has been very successful in life and his career. 

In retrospect, I don't think he got all the breaks. Rather, I think he developed a keen knack for making his own breaks through grit and determination. And a little moxie.

In any case, we are still in touch and I'm always happy to hear the latest news from him. I've been proud of his success.

Some Guys Do Nothing But Complain
One of the smartest guys I knew has turned into a grumpy old man. Eventually, I disconnected from social media connections because every post I saw was a rant of some sort. 

"Old man shakes fist at sky...''

For a while, I was sure his politics leaned one way. Then, it seemed he leaned in the polar opposite direction. I finally concluded he doesn't like any of 'em!

When we were growing up, he was always fairly witty and drole. But at some point, the mirth dissipated. Grumbling ensued. 

And truly. I concluded of his posts: He does nothing but complain.

Sad.

There probably was a time all five of us - me and the four guys labeled in the song - were together. Maybe it was for a pick-up basketball game. As captains chose the teams, you could imagine:

First pick. "I'll take the guy who has all the luck."

Second pick. "OK. I'll choose the guy who gets all the breaks."

The guy with all the pain probably took an elbow to the nose. And, as for the guy who does nothing but complain, it was probably the ref's fault. 

JG

Let the Kids Have Fun

During my time as a youth baseball coach, age-league commissioner and league president, I saw some crazy stuff.

One bucket of the crazies was the uber-competitive parents. Stage parents, if you will. 

1. A mom telling me about how her son's 9-under team played tournaments every other weekend from March-October. Nine. Year. olds.
2. Another mom asking me about what she should do to help 7-year-old Little Johnny "make it" (presumably in 'the show'). Seven. Year. Olds. 
3. A guy in coach-pitch league (t-ball) bragging about his team playing in 6-under tournaments. Six. Year. Olds!

Coaches yelling at kids. Coaches ignoring the last-drafted player in hopes he might drop out. Coaches trying to rig rec league drafts.

Over the top.

Don't get me wrong. There is a time and place for competitiveness. Just look at Farragut High School - winning its 5th straight state baseball championship. Fifteenth overall - a record of excellence.

And our boys moved from rec league to travel ball, too, when the time and place was right.  And we weren't looking to prepare them for the major leagues. We were just looking to play a little tougher competition and add some more games to our schedule.

Because the last time I checked, there were only a couple guys who played baseball on the fields where the Choppers once played (and I once coached) who have made it all the way to 'the show.' 

And that wasn't our goal anyway.

Speaking of the majors, I was watching an Atlanta Braves game last week and, during one of the innings, BravesVision commentators Wiley Ballard and CJ Nitkowski interviewed lefty ace Chris Sale. They covered a number of topics but, when I heard him talk about his boys playing the game and having fun with it, he got my attention. 

The guys asked Chris Sale if he coaches his kids, he confirmed he didn't. Here's what Sale said on last Thursday's broadcast of the game from Miami:

"Just let the kids have fun. When they are into high school, that's when it's time to turn it on. But when they are young, you need to make it fun because when you make it fun, that's when you fall in love with it. And when you fall in love with something, it's easier to go through those grinder days. So, parents, ease up a little."

Sale's words really resonate with me - especially coming from a staff ace and future Hall of Famer. 

Wish I could have played some of these quotes for the super competitive parents back during my tenure as league prez.

Let the kids have fun. And the rest will take care of itself. 

JG

The Callbook

I was doing an online search for something relating to my ham radio callsign last week and I got one research result I wasn't seeking.

There, right at the top of the page, was a listing that included my callsign and surname. But it was from 1961. It was a link to an online, digitized version of The Callbook.

A little background on The Callbook. It was a printed book that listed ham radio operators, their callsigns and their home addresses. In the pre-internet days, it was your source for a mailing address if you wanted to receive a QSL card from the other ham. You looked up her/his address, sent them a card (and maybe a SASE if you really wanted to enhance your odds). And, then waited for the reply.

Sometimes a card came right away; other times it might take weeks or months. 

You might think of The Callbook as being like an old printed telephone book - one without phone numbers and including amateur radio callsigns and license classifications instead.

The search result prompted me to go downstairs and search through some of my archives in the ham shack. I found a version of The Callbook, ca 1977. 

I thumbed through the '77 book, expecting to find myself but I wasn't there. Funny, considering I passed my license in '75 (or was it '76). In either case, I didn't even make the special "hold the presses" pages at the very back of the book!

I probably showed up in the 1978 edition. But my dad was clearly listed in the '77 (at the home where he and my mother lived for 46 years).

Likewise, the listing from 1961 was my dad's, too. As I mentioned previously. he held the callsign K4KYN long before I did, but he wasn't the first. There was actually a previous K4KYN before dad (but that's another story for another blog post). 

By 1961, he had relocated to East Tennessee (and, in fact, married my mother that winter). But his Callbook listing shows his parents' address - the Gary family farm just north of Memphis.

What a nice bit of unexpected family nostalgia.  And thanks to whomever did the tedious work to digitize the 1961 hardcopy. And thanks to all those individuals who worked so hard to put The Callbook together back in those days.

Back to the '77 book, I remember using some gift money to purchase it. Or maybe I purchased a later one that I didn't find in my files. There was an earlier one from the early 60s in my desk. Clearly, dad bought that one. 

In any case, this digest was a treasured part of any ham shack if you were into collecting QSL cards (as I was during that era). You'd finish "working" the other station and look 'em up in The Callbook. And if you were lucky, voila, there was the other operator's address. 

Of course, the minute the book went to press, it was dated. Some folks relocated. Or relinquished their licenses. Others passed away.

Also, there were new licensees coming on board all the time. Still, unless you wanted to ask the op to send their address via morse code, it was the best bet.

JG

It's Time For Cats

During the summer of '23, we lost our long-term friend and housecat, Roger. He passed away at the ripe old age of 19.

For a while, our home was feline-free. Then, by the fall of '23, we decided it was time to take the plunge. Or as Holly always says, "It's Time For Cats."

Since Roger was such a memorable cat--big orange cat; big orange personality--we agreed we could not have another orange tabby right away. Instead, we agreed on a gray tabby.

And when we went to the local shelter to look for our furever friends, we had in mind to bring home two. As it turned out, we found the perfect pair. 

Scottie and Kells (as we have named them) are siblings and very closely bonded. They came to the shelter as part of a litter of four kittens but two of their siblings were adopted by other patrons. 

When we saw the two of them so closely clinging to each other, we quickly realized we couldn't bring home one without the other. So, that made an easy decision. 

• Gray tabby cats
• Siblings
• Bonded

Just who we were looking for.

We often ask, rhetoically, if they remember their siblings. The question is usually met with a blank stare by our cats (because, of course, they don't have the same sense of family as we would).

When they were little, their kitty energy was frenetic. I think the ladies found it slightly unnerving. But over time, as they grew into young adult cats and now fully grown grown-ups. they have settled in nicely.

Scottie, the brother, is the more high strung of the two. Kells, the sister, has a bigger personality and, quite frankly, can be a bit sassy. Often, they hop on your lap, snuggle in and begin purring to beat the band.

You might wonder about their names. They come from our most recent overseas trip. During the summer of '23, we went to Ireland and Scotland. Scottie, then, comes from the Scotland portion of the vacation. And in Ireland, at Trinity University, one finds The Book of Kells (hence, sister tabby's name).

So, there you have it - an explanation of who they are (and what we call them).

Don't be surprised if they become regular characters in future #CoachJeff posts.

JG

Class of...

There's been a fun game circulating around Facebook the last few weeks. I've noticed a few of my classmates (and some from adjoining years) enjoying the challenge.

I've been a bit busy this month so I've not yet played along. Then. I said to myself (Hey self) why don't you do this as a part of the blog. Get a post. Play the game. 

Buy one; Get one.

So, without further delay, here goes:

Class of: 1981

1. Did you know your spouse?
No, but coincidentally, she was also a member of the Class of '81 at her high school.

2. Type of Car?
1966 Ford Mustang

3. Where did you work?
Rax Roast Beef

4. Where did you live?
Hidden Valley. For years, I swore we invited the salad dressing on our street.

5. Were you popular?
Popularity is such a subjective thing! But, of course, newspaper people are well-known (and if you do your job, well-respected). I was sports editor of my school newspaper, so, I think I was well-known and well-liked.

6. Choir or band?
Have your heard me try to sing? And I play no musical instrument of any sort.

7. Ever get suspended?
No

8. If you could, would you go back?
Absolutely! If I ever invent that time machine I keep talking about...

9. Still talk to the person you went to prom with?
No. I think she'd like to just forget it ever happened.

10. Did you skip school?
Once and there is a great story related to it. My friend and I were hanging out at the cemetery across the road from where I now live. He started cutting up and dancing around. The next thing you know, a whirlwind kicked up and all these leaves started swirling around us. We sprinted to his car and get the heck out of there. Taught us nothing good comes from skipping school!

11. Go to all of the football games?
Yes, I would have done it for fun anyway but, as sports editor, it was part of the job description.

12. Favorite subject?
English would be an easy answer. I've mentioned newspaper twice already. So, I'm going to go with French and Mlle Burleson. It's been such a recurring theme in my life with trips to France and Quebec as well as being a parent. Both of my kids studied the language.

13. Do you still have your yearbook?
Yes.

14. Did you follow your career?
Yes, there are actually a few #CoachJeff blog posts on this topic.

15. Do you still have your class ring?
No. But there could be an interesting future #CoachJeff post telling you why.

16. Who was your favorite teacher?
Nancy Johnson, English.

17. What was your style?
Preppy.

18. High School Mascot?
Farragut Admirals. Fun fact, I am related to someone who once donned the Admiral Dave costume for a couple years.

19. Favorite restaurant?
So many choices but I am going to have to go with Mr. Gatti's because of all the Friday nights hanging out there with friends. Like the night people kept getting shushed when we were trying to learn who actually shot JR!

20. Favorite band?
Electric Light Orchestra. In post high school days, the answer would certainly be U2. But, in those days, good ol' ELO.

21. High school hair?
Somewhat longish and a bit curly.

22. What was your favorite cologne?
I've never worn cologne.

23. How old were you when you graduated?

18 

24. Who do you think will play?
I hope lots of readers of Coach Jeff's Blog!

Enjoy!

JG

 

Talking Football

My friend Ed and I got into an email thread the other day about the toy football games we had as children.

It seemed every kid on the block had one of the Tudor electric football games. In short, it was a vibrating piece of sheet metal styled as a football field with bleachers and a scoreboard you could attach. The mechanics of the game were designed to propel plastic football player figurines up and down the field. 

My version of the game had Jets Vs. Raiders (The Heidi Game). Ed's was Cowboys Vs. Colts (Super Bowl V). The guy across the street had Green Bay vs. Cleveland.. Maybe it commemorated the last NFL Championship Game (1965) before the Super Bowl era?

Anyway, it was fun to get together with your buddy and set the game up and decide which teams would play. The set up was really the fun part. The game itself never captured as much interest.

Fast forward some years and Santa brought a modern version of the game as a gift for Paul and it commemorated the Tennessee Titans Super Bowl appearance against the Rams - Super Bowl XXXIV.

My dad enjoyed playing Cadeco's "Hall of Fame" football game. In that version, the two players chose offensive and defensive cards.  You slid those cards into an opaque slot and then turned on a lightbulb under the field. It shone and revealed the outcome of the play.

We spent many hours enjoying that one.

The game that started the Ed thread, however, was Mattel's NFL Talking Football. He sent me a link to a video capturing much of the essence of the game.

Talking Football was manufactured to resemble a transistor radio with associated game pieces to track plays and progress. On offense, you selected a disk that featured the play you were calling. You'd place it into a slot in the unit and your opponent spun it to a spot "calling" her/his defensive alignment. Then, you plopped the disk in and an announcer gave you the play by play call for that outcome.

Here's one I remember by heart:

"Handoff to the halfback; lateral to the quarterback. Flea-flicker pass. TOUCHDOWN!"

Funny how quickly it comes back all these years later.

As Ed went through the video, he noted another of of our favorites is featured at the 4:26 mark of the video. You can fast-forward to that part to hear it yourself, if you like:

"Fumbled...high in the air...up for grabs...the defense gets it."

For years, we've remembered the day the batteries on my player were running low and, so, the announcing took place in slow motion! 

Not so on this recording. But you can certainly get a feel for how the game went when the batteries were at full power.

It seemed to me there were more football games for sale in those days than other sports. I've seen some of the tabletop ice hockey games, though. Those looked like lots of fun.

Maybe the proliferation of football games was because my dad enjoyed that sport most of all? Or because we live in the South, where football is king. I would have loved one of the baseball games, but, you can't have it all!

Whatever the case, all of these games brought lots of enjoyment and helped us to pass many hours when life moved at a slower pace.

JG

Hamvention

Full disclosure: I was not able to attend this year's Dayton Hamvention. I really wanted to go. My schedule just wouldn't allow it this year.

But, I did get to go to Hamvention in 2025 and it was one of the highlights of my year. What's more: I plan to make it in '27 as well.

Dayton Hamvention is the world's largest amateur radio gathering. With presentations and forums and dinners and meet-ups, it is the date circled on the calendars in many ham shacks around the world. 

When I first stepped on site at the Greene County Fair and Expo Center in Xenia, Ohio
(just outside Dayton) last year, my first impression was how massive the operation is. And the breadth and depth of it all was amazing. It isn't overstating it to say: Whatever your niche is in the hobby, you can find it at Hamvention.

For me, one of my priorities was to stop by the booth of the Straight Key Century Club and say hi to my fellow club members. At a certain time and place, members of the organization gathered for a group photo. I was proud to be a part of it.

Another must-do for me was to drop by the booths of the vendors who sell the products that stock the K4KYN hamshack. Done and done.

And, finally, the people. The most important part of Hamvention, for me, was the meet-ups with some of ham radio operators with whom I've gotten close over the years. I mentioned my friend, Tim, previously. It was great to see him in person and catch-up last May. Was happy to have dinner with him and some of his associates.

I also met and had "an eyeball QSO" (meaning - talked in person) with my friend, Jerry. Over the years, the two of us have met on the air 24 times. But our meeting in person was the most special of our all our contacts.

Another highlight: I met some new friends, too.  I met one fellow from out west who is a real fan of In and Out Burger. He told me, in great detail, about the success of that company and its operation.

Another great aspect of the experience.

I'm sure there was a lot of those sorts of things going on in 2026, too. I saw many pics of SKCC members stopping by the SKCC booth and networking. I know, also, they met for the annual group photo. 

Members of the Tennessee Contest Group met for dinner, too. 

These pursuits, and more, will be on my agenda for 2027. It's a long way off, I know, but I'm already looking forward to it.

JG

Clean Out the Garage

For years, my mother has been talking about a project she wanted (us) to do. She wanted to clean out the garage.

Last Saturday was the day circled on the calendar. She ordered one of those dumpsters for the driveway. And Saturday morning, we all showed up to fill it up. 

The dumpster team included me, my wife and daughter, my sister and her two girls. 

At first, we did the brute labor needed to get a couple of chairs, a couple concrete blocks and other heavy items loaded and on to the base of the unit. Then, we did the more tedious task of going through boxes. We sorted the contents into:

1. keep
2. pitch
3. recycle 
4. shred

Full disclosure: many of my friends know that my dad passed away back in the winter. But because it happened before I re-started the blog, I haven't really covered the news here. 

Embry D. "Nick" Gary, 93, passed away February 9 after a lengthy battle with Alzheimer's.

So, part of the work we wound up doing Saturday was to find things he put in odd places (a full mustard bottle, for instance) and un-do them. But, also, we went through copious files he put together throughout the years. As I noted in his eulogy, he was a modern renaissance man: an accomplished mechanical engineer, a brilliant artist, a talented woodworker and a successful auto mechanic.

And boy what notes he kept - handwritten in his distinctive, precise script. 

• A detailed list of all his paintings, who bought them and when they sold
• A spreadsheet listing all of the items he bought and sold via eBay
• Records of oil changes and brake jobs, among other auto maintenance

Dad also studied to become a private pilot during the late 1970s. I think he wound up flying five or so years before giving up the hobby. One of the boxes contained notes he took during a class to prepare for the written exam.

But as nostalgic as it was to review such personal history, there was little reason to keep notes about car repairs for vehicles no longer in the family. I did hold on to the flight info and my sister took some other keepsakes.

After a few hours of labor, we hit the proverbial wall. And, truly, we had done the hard task. The dumpster was about two-thirds full. Since he had fully stuffed my mom's recycle bin, many of the remaining recyclables will have to wait until the next round. Otherwise, we'll take the paint and chemicals to the city's household hazardous waste dispoal facility downtown. 

Another project, slated for fall, is to clean out the shed in her back yard. I took one look inside and decided that, yes, it could NOT be tacked on to the day's actvities. Too much work; too little remaining energy.

For one day, however, we all felt good about our efforts. My mother enjoyed how much better her garage looks (and how much storage space she now has).

And, as we worked our way through boxes and files, we remembered and paid tribute to a good man.

JG

Accreditation in Public Relations

The three year period for my Accreditation in Public Relations (APR) expires at the end of next month. 

Since I applied for re-accreditation last time–during the summer of '23–I've been collecting CEUs toward next time.

To recap, I studied for and passed my original APR exam in 2014 and I wrote about the process during the first iteration of the blog. Clearly, it is an achievement of which I am very proud.  I've been a member of Public Relations Society of America (PRSA) for a bit longer.

For the record, the Universal Accreditation Board says this of the credential: 

"With so thorough a process, the APR credential is both a professional and personal achievement—a revelation of drive, capabilities, and dedication. Receiving this recognition demonstrates your proficiency and alignment with the cutting-edge PR practices and knowledge that will take you to the next level in your career."

Earlier this week, I sat down to review my CEUs from the past three years and to enter them into the online portal.

Before I wrapped up the duties of my former job, I put together a spreadsheet listing all the activities that would count toward my re-accreditation including ethics, public service and training. Because of the nature of my job as a division director working for a government contractor serving a large organization, I was required to complete a number of training modules.

Some were related to the nature of the company. Some were driven by my position as a manager of a large organization. In any case, it was a long list.

Life-long learning, after all, is a good thing.

I commiserated with my former administrative assistant (who coordinates training for the organization). 

The exercise was somewhat nostalgic (if one can be nostalgic about training modules). But more than anything, it reminded me that I retired from a position with some substance. It was the pinnacle of a 40 year career. 

Filing the paperwork next month to renew my accreditation for the next three year period will affirm my commitment to the industry. And it affirms that I am open to possibilities for what comes next in the career path.

JG

C'mon Kid

I was out of town over the weekend when the news broke about the death of former Atlanta Braves manager Bobby Cox at the age of 84. 

Cox's passing came just a few days after the death of former Braves owner Ted Turner. 

The Braves honored both icons with a moment of silence before last night's home game against the Cubs. Atlanta beat Chicago for a feel-good 5-2 W.

Both gentlemen were synonymous with the first golden era of Atlanta Braves baseball, culminating with the first major sports championship for the city. 

I still remember where I was that night. In the 1990s, we hosted folks each October for our annual fall chili party. I enjoyed celebrating with friends that night as Marquis Grissom caught the fly ball to record the last out in the clinching 1-0 victory over Cleveland.

Coxey was a part of the post-game celebration. In the 90s, the Bravos were excellent and the skipper was a major part of that success. He was beloved by players -- the prototype players' manager. 

During my own coaching experience some years later, I would occasionally do my own impression of his trademark "C'mon kid!" cheer. Call it a #CoachJeff tip of the cap.

He was very popular and so easy to root for. He had very few rules but enforced those strongly. He wore a full uniform and spikes all the way up to his last game. And if he felt one of his players was wronged, he stood up for them vehemently.

He was ejected from games a total of 162 times for his colorful arguments with umpires.

Sadly, his health suffered in later years. He suffered a massive stroke in 2019. He would occasionally make appearances at the ballpark as he battled through his rehab. Still a fan favorite, his appearances always brought standing ovations.

There weren't many updates recently. Then, the news of his passing hit Braves Country hard over the weekend. Former players shared their own memories and tributes to Cox. The team has added a #6 to the back of their trademark red and navy caps. 

RIP Skipper. One of a kind. Truly a legend.

JG

Ham Radio Legacy

My dad served in the U.S. Army in the late 1950s. He became a telegraph radio operator.

If you were a fan of the late 1960's show, "Hogan's Heroes," you might think of the character known as "Kinch" sending messages via morse code on an old-style telegraph key. Ten or so years later, my dad was one of his outfit's "Kinch's."

Anyway, his years of military service is where our family's ham radio story begins. You might say I'm a ham radio legacy.

When dad came back from Europe, he quickly passed his test to become an amateur radio operator and was issued the callsign "KN4KYN." In those days in the late 50s, a novice (or temporary) license was designated with the "N."

Soon, he upgraded his license and became K4KYN.

In my intro "Hamming it Up," I told you a little about how I became an amateur radio operator at age 12. I learned morse code from a recording dad made on an old Realistic cassette recorder. He went letter by letter, symbol by symbol. 

• This is A. Dot Dash. (. _ )
• This is B. Dash. Dot. Dot. Dot (_...)
• This is C. Dash. Dot. Dash. Dot (_._.)

And so forth.

It didn't take long. A young mind is a sponge. Throw in some natural curiosity and enthusiasm and you've got a winner. Before you knew it, I took and passed my exam and was on the air. I enjoyed long chats with American ops and shorter, long distance contacts with foreign stations. My call sign was WA4ZJW.

That's a lot of dots and dashes!

I operated through my high school and early college years and then my station went dark as life got busy. 

Fast forward to the COVID shutdowns and we all had lots of extra time on my hands. I had been thinking of getting my station back on the air. I consulted with my friend, Ed, on equipment to purchase. Then, I set up the new station.

On a parallel track, I studied for and passed all the exams to get to the highest license classification offered, Amateur Extra.  I remember the volunteer exam team calling out "Extra Extra, Read all about it" once they had graded my exam.

I was thrilled. I had passed three exams in the span of three months in late 2020/early 2021.

The last piece was to apply for a "vanity callsign" so I could be awarded my dad's old call sign. He had let his license lapse and his callsign was about to be up for grabs. I made my successful application so I could keep K4KYN in the family.

Let's face it, there are lots FEWER dots and dashes!

Five years in, I'm still having a great time with this hobby. And, moreover, I seem to learn something new almost weekly. The pursuit both challenges AND entertains me. 

Just like before, I still enjoy the variety of long morse code chats (hams call them "ragchews") and I love the thrill of a quick foreign contact. Just yesterday, I worked an Italian station. 

I never lose the thrill of knowing that my signal, created in my modest ham shack, went around the world. Call me a nerd. It's pretty cool.

JG

The Long Goodbye

I wasn't born with an appreciation for pop or rock music. I cultivated it myself.

With (ahem) a little help from my friends.

The transformation from being "un-music'd" to being fully immersed was rapid. It happened during the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in high school - the fabulous summer of '78.

If you want to call me a late bloomer in this regard, that's fair. I'll accept that. Even still, I was fairly pleased at the accelerated self-taught course I completed that summer. And with that being such a transformational summer for me, I've always drawn a line in the sand when it comes to pop and rock music.

There were the songs that were popular before that summer, the songs that came after that summer and the special ones that were on the charts and on the radio during the summer of '78.

The Eagles were at the pinnacle of their career during this period, having just celebrated a great deal of success with the Hotel California album. So, you can imagine, they received a great deal of airplay as I started plugging in(and would, in fact, do it again the next year with the release of The Long Run).

We got a number of wonderful concerts in town during the late 70s and I enjoyed attending a select few, Seeing the Eagles on The Long Run Tour at Stokely Athletic Center in 1979 was a highlight from that era. 

Then, as life became busier and disposable time was reduced, I didn't attend nearly as many shows 

But in recent years, it occurred to me that many of the acts and singers I followed are about to wrap things up. In fact, many of them are telling you straight up. Farewell Tour. Last Run. Sayonara Songs. Etc.

So, Lisa and I have been on a mission to see a few select concerts featuring some of our favorite performers. 

• Jeff Lynne's ELO (fall 2024)
• Al Stewart (winter 2025)
• Rod Stewart (summer 2025)

And that brings me to this past weekend. 

This has been a fairly long intro (~300 words) Much like the title track of the selfsame LP! Anyway, that's the background as to why I was in Nashville Saturday to see the Eagles perform at Vanderbilt University's FirstBank Stadium.

It was the latest stop on the band's current tour: The Long Goodbye Act III. And what a great show it was.

Lisa and I feel blessed to have been able to do such things and, I suppose, that is a benefit of a more flexible schedule. And I can't think of a better way of spending a lovely spring Saturday night than listening to two hours of great music from one of the elite bands from my youth nearly 47 years after seeing them the first time.

Founding member Don Henley, joined by two long-time band-mates Joe Walsh and Timothy B. Schmidt were supported by country music legend Vince Gill and Deacon Frey, son of the late Glenn Frey and a host of other great musicians. Vince and Deacon split the Glenn Frey songs. It was pretty cool that each one of the performers had a few moments to shine during the show.

It was a great night. I'm glad we made the effort to attend. And as you can imagine, a multi-generational crowd was enjoying one group singalong moment after another. In fact, during his opening remarks, Henley encouraged us to do that.

I'm not sure how many more must-see performers from our high school era will be doing final tours. Maybe we will see one or two others during this era. 

Whatever the case, I wasn't thinking ahead on Saturday night. Just spending a couple hours in the moment.

JG

Door to Door

I almost never sit on the back steps at my house - maybe a couple times a year at most.

But there I was the other night. My daughter, Holly, and I were taking turns mowing the yard. While she was finishing the front yard—and I waited to do the back yard—I just needed to find a spot to cool my heels for a minute.

Lost in my thoughts...that's when I heard the voice.

"Can I speak to you for a minute?"

Now to set the scene for you, my back yard is secluded. There are woods in a semi-circle ringing the lot. No neighbor can see my back yard and vice versa. 

So, you can see why my first thought was "who was that?" Was it a voice from within? From beyond? A homeless person in the woods? (No, that happened at our previous house).

It was a door to door salesman. 

The peddler, a young man who looked to be in his early 20s, had hit Holly up in the front yard. She told him, truthfully, that she didn't own the home. She added that he could find the homeowner in the back yard. so, he did.

That brings us back to the voice and the moment I heard it. It was this salesman and he wanted to talk to me about signing on for a pest control contract.  

Between friends, I wasn't the least bit interested. I was sweaty and a bit tired. And we don't have pests. I was firm, but gentle. "As one of my baseball coach friends told another coach once, 'The answer is no.'"

He nodded, accepting defeat.

A bit later, in the shower, I reflected on the exchange. You don't see folks going door to door much these days. In mid-century America it was just the thing.

The salesperson, often a man carrying a black briefcase, knocked on your door; ready to show you his wares. 

I think my mom may have occasionally bought a product - maybe a small gadget or cleanser. 

Barney Fife famously sold vacuum cleaners in one episode of The Andy Griffith Show. In the pre-internet days. we didn't have so many avenues to make a purchase. So, selling door to door was viable. 

One of my childhood friends got roped into selling seeds one summer - flowers and vegetables. He pulled his red wagon from house to house.

In our 20+ years at this home, I think we've had a handful of folks coming by to try to sell us on a product or service. I remember tree trimmers on the street once. Since they were set up down the block, wouldn't we want them to take down the such-and-such?

'The answer was no."

And so it was the other night as I waited my turn to mow. The fella tried a couple approaches but quickly realized he was wasting his time and mine. He was gracious about accepting my final answer.

As he ambled off to head down my street to the next neighbor, he complimented me on our home. I thanked him for the kudos. 

He added he hoped to own a place like this someday. 

"Keep at it," I told him. "You'll get there someday." He nodded and smiled.

Whereas I didn't want or need the service he offered, I wanted to give him a little encouragement. I do admire a young man with a little moxie.

JG

The Immaculate Grid

A couple years ago, my son Paul introduced me to a fun online baseball-related game. Since then, he and I have compared notes about our own pursuit of The Immaculate Grid.

The game is set up like a tic-tac-toe board (or Hollywood Squares/Brady Bunch intro if you prefer a tv reference). The objective of the game is to fill each square of the grid.

Down the left column features a team or category. Across the top, you will also see a team or category.  Your job is to think of a player to meets both criteria.

For instance, if your grid lined up Atlanta Braves with Los Angeles Dodgers you might list (painfully for Braves fans) former Brave Freddie Freeman as he has played for both teams. That would successfully fill the grid spot. Or, in the example that combines a team on the left with a category up top (or vice versa)...you might find St. Louis Cardinals and "All Star Team." There'd be many correct choices, including Stan "the man" Musial.

A second objective is to get the lowest score possible. So, in my example of Freddie Freeman, he's pretty well known - and a current player. So, lots of people might make that choice (driving your score higher). But folks may have forgotten that recent baseball Hall of Fame inductee Andruw Jones did a short stint with L.A. Thus, Andruw might get you a lower score. 

And in St. Louis, Stan the Man is beloved. He might get you a high score. But contestants might have forgotten that Hall of Fame closer Lee Smith pitched for St. Louis and was a member of the N.L. All Star team in 1992. So, he might get a lower score for you.

So, lots of fun and some strategy, too.

For the two of us, we enjoy comparing notes and learning a bit about this beloved game. 

Recently, Paul used Julio Franco as a choice to fill a square for Atlanta Braves-Philadelphia Phillies. 

If you read the blog years ago (before the break), you might remember the piece I wrote some years ago about Julio Franco tossing a ball to nine-year-old Paul during a game.

So, Julio has always been a family favorite for us. 

It is fun to be able to work in some personal favorites like Juli. Or the 1950s pitcher that shares a surname with Lisa's family. Or the MLB player who went to grade school with Paul. Or one who faced the Choppers.

Infinite possibilities. Lots of fun.

One note, before I close, Immaculate Grid is NOT to be confused with The Immaculate Reception. That is another topic for another time (and contains painful memories for a childhood Oakland Raiders fanatic!).

JG

 

QSO Parties - From Sea to Shining Sea

Last Tuesday, I told you about the concept of the ham radio event called a QSO Party. I focused on my pursuit of counties in the state of Florida.

That was certainly a lot of fun but this past weekend was a veritable ham radio smorgasbord!

As I noted in the 4/28 post, some QSO parties spotlight a state but others focus on a region. During the first weekend of May, the 7th Call Area (think: Western U.S. states other than California) held its event. And with some degree of overlap, the New England States did the same with the NEQP. There were ham radio operators to contact up and down the bands.

For good measure, the states of Indiana and Delaware joined the fun with their own events. 

The 7th Call Area kicked off the action on Saturday with the 7QP and I started trying to contact (or "work" in ham lingo) stations out west. As you can imagine, Arizona is fairly heavily populated so I made more contacts in AZ than anywhere else. I also had good success with Washington state and Oregon. I also worked stations in Utah, Nevada, Idaho and Montana. 

Unfortunately, I did not get the clean sweep of western states as I never heard anyone in Wyoming. Pity.

Another objective during my radio time was to contact my friend Tim. He and another friend were setting up remotely in a couple beautiful parks in southern Washington. I was very happy to make two contacts with them - one on the 20 meter band and a second on 15 meters. 

As a side note, those two bands are great, for me, in terms of contacting folks out west (and across the pond).

As was the case with the Florida event I told you about, I was trying to get as many counties as possible in the western states. In all, I made 56 contacts (and, of those QSOs, I collected 31 unique counties).

On to New England. 

We are planning a vacation in that area later this summer (more on that in future #CoachJeff posts), so contacting operators in those states/counties featured timeliness as a personal multiplier!

Again, the 20 meter band worked great! I added a few contacts on 15 meters but more on 40 meters (at night on Saturday).

I am happy to report I did get all six New England states and, during my 76 contacts, I checked off 36 counties.

To round out the fun, I worked one station in Delaware and three in Indiana. What a great weekend. I logged more than 100 contacts (from sea to shining sea). 

This weekend, the contest calendar turns to the Canadian Prairies QSO Party (think Manatoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta). 

And the party rolls on!

JG

The Gemini Dream

Full disclosure: I was about to write my feel good "Welcome to May" post—my favorite month of the year—And just before I started typing...bam. 

Course correction.

I came across an article late last week with the following headline: 
Billie Eilish trashed Gemini men in a new interview. Why does this astrological sign get such a bad rap?

Me being one of those—both a Gemini AND a man—I just had to stop what I was doing and go read the piece. Even though I don't know the first thing about astrology, I have always felt my sign was a pretty good fit. Anyway, on to the feature.

The first thing I came across was the subhead: 

Gemini are known for being curious and chatty, but their focus on novelty means they're also stereotyped as having a wandering eye

Now the author really had me fired up. Curious and chatty? Yes, that's me. Wandering eye? Uh, I don't think so. And I've got my recent 40 year wedding anniversary to back me up.

I won't recite the article to you line by line. If you want to read it for yourself, you can click the link above. I will tell you the article cites a number of other articles that pretty much come to the same conclusion: Gemini men are the cads of the zodiac world. If you want to pick a better bet, go for any of the other 11 signs. 

One astrologer throws us a couple bones near the end of the feature, saying:

“They're always thinking of new ideas. They're creative in their thought process, and they’re solution-oriented.”  

Now, that's a little more like it.

For those following along at home, the Gemini period on the astrological calendar runs from May 21 to June 20. So, it covers my birthday (my sister's too). 

I always loved having my birthday at this time of year. First, as a school kid, it was a great time on the academic calendar. The hard work was basically over but you were still together with your buddies. And, the weather in May is usually just about perfect. Not too hot. Not too cold.

But I guess I was oblivious to my unknown reputation.

As I said earlier, I don't follow astrology. When I ran across phrases like placement of the planets or mutable signs, I'm not sure what to do with it.  

So, without that basic knowledge, what is a former youth baseball coach and recently retired PR practitioner to do? Or put more directly, what is "The Gemini Dream?"

For me, I always thought the best part of being a Gemini was to use my outgoing nature to make people feel comfortable. Or using my leadership skills and/or position to help others. 

During my senior year in high school, I had a number of younger friends. One was kind of quiet and didn't make friends easily. Another was a new kid at a very big school. A third guy was a troubled rebel. I tried to do what I could do to help each of them.  And I hope, for those friends, as indicated in the story, I was fun to be around. 

As an adult, I do (as the article suggests) have a number of interests. I write about many of them here on #CoachJeff. And I have done my best never to be flighty or flaky. 

At the end of the day. I think we all run a risk when we paint with a broad brush. Eilish may have had a bad experience with a Gemini ex-partner. And I am truly sorry about that. It's always sad to hear about the ending of a relationship, especially when it is hurtful to one or the other parther.

But does that mean all us twins are all to be trashed? Remember my post from last week about rivals? What if we took it a step further and said all fans of the rival team are bad people. 

Broad. Brush.

To sum up, I guess I am just not comfortable. Maybe my interpretation wasn't what was intended in the article at all. I know I am certainly not in the demographic for that singer. OK Boomer!

Still, the message left me feeling mighty low about of us bundled in the third zodiac. Surely we can give each other a little more grace.

So, ultimately, maybe my concept of The Gemini Dream is best expressed by this time-honored Presbyterian benediction:

"Go out into the world in peace; have courage; hold fast to what is good; return no one evil for evil; strengthen the fainthearted; support the weak; help the afflicted; honor everyone; love and serve the Lord, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit."

JG