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Monday, May 30, 2011

Derby Seaglass Hunting

Not collecting, we're hunting.

The Game
DSH is a game for clever, aggressive seaglass hunters. A game of skill with challenging levels of legal blocks and hits, gropes, and simple manipulations which will misguide an opponent. The victor has the most envious piece or pieces of seaglass at the end of the beach walk.

Rules
Whichever player first touches and effectively recovers seaglass retains the seaglass piece also known as a chunk -- end of play.  The player who touches the chunk first has priority and may not be further hit or blocked.

Hits and Blocks
Players may block using shoulder and hip blocks to prevent an opponent from advancing by knocking them off balance before they can touch or secure a seaglass piece. For example, if an opponent is bending over to pick up a chunk, the opponent may hip check and unbalance the player in order to first touch and effectively collect the chunk.  Hip and shoulder blocks are  in accordance with women’s flat track derby rules and there is no tripping, no back blocking, no fists, no elbows, nothing above the neck, and hands may only be used to inappropriately fondle an opponent in order to off-set the balance of the opponent.

Groping
Players are allowed to mildly grope an opponent's genitals. Not tug, pull, pinch, or rip, but a simple goose used to throw the opponent off-guard as is the typical goal in all derby.

Penalties

Vagina blocks, dick blocks, or butt blocks in the face of the opponent are fine as long as player does not step on the feet or sit on the head of the opponent. A player may not wrestle a chunk from another, particularly if a player has claimed the chunk by touching it first. These instances would result in a penalty. Players may not use hands to block an opponent, particularly after first touch has occurred. If this happens a throw back must be performed; the chunk must immediately be thrown into the sea where neither can retrieve it for the duration of the beach walk. If the penalized player refuses to return the chunk then the wronged player curses that the opponent will walk unseeingly past two seaglass chunks. Cephalopods may be invoked.

Winning
After the beach walk the player who recovers the most magical piece of seaglass ends play and  the holder is named the winner of the beachwalk.

Tips from Advanced Players
"Other things newbies are tempted to do, lunge towards sea lettuce, seagull poop and shiny pieces of shell."
-Cleaver Beaver

                                                      
"Saw it first is a large part of derby seaglass strategy as is knowing when to employ hits and blocks."-Ann Putae
                                             
"Find one piece, look around in the same spot for another. The size of the seaglass is usually equal to the size of the rocks or shell pieces lying nearby its founding place." -Tina Casseroll
                                       
Places to Search
Rivermouth specials, point break cul de sac tide pools. bonfires, beach access points or stairs. This is where you will find a lot, because of lazy ass picnicers and beer drinkers.

Seaglass Release
A responsible seaglass hunter will not bring home a chunk with a sharp edge or one that may need more cuddles from the sea. Oftentimes, seaglass will nick or break and have to be released back into the sea. Also, once away from the ocean and in comparison to choice pieces some chunks clearly need to be returned for more ocean lovin’.






Commentary from semi-professional seaglass derby hunter
and beachwalk player, Surf Slut, #H20

 “It’s one thing to be competitive with oneself, but to drag others into the game, to introduce them to the greedy and aggressive sea monster that the shiny ocean licked gems create. The beginner seaglass hunter can only see large pieces and only when they are directly below their eye vision line, however a seasoned seaglass hunter can see them from far away and in addition, can sense SGR (SeaGlass Recognition) just as it cusps upon an opponent's face. And thus have the opportunity--before the opponent has even begun to bend to reach for the chunk--to block that movement and essentially take them out at the same time as acquiring the chunk. An easy hip check or crotch goose will quickly unbalance the opponent and it will be simple to follow that momentum with a scoop up. The aggression is one thing, but the victorious sense of satisfaction as you take that sandy beer bottle chunk away from an opponent is quite another. But it’s the big finds, like winning once on the slots, you keep going back wanting that big score every time. It's knowing the best places to go, the best times, financing trips to the most populated beaches. It‘s definitely a lifestyle.”

This sport is currently banned in Florida on public beaches. 

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Caw

Ok. I’ve been watching this video periodically since it was brought to my attention by one Ms. Island Spice. She also showed me Surfwise. She has a great sense of humor and a very even keeled sensibility and perspective. She must be a very old soul that at one time was very devilish.

Creepy Lip Sync Contestant Totally WTF! (Philippines)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ri5-uR8-3AE

This youtube has messed with my head. Comparable to my fascination with Rosemary’s Baby. The more times you watch it the more significant subtleties you notice, like the increasing progress of the neighbor’s piano playing, which can only be heard in the kitchen. How relevant is the piano? I need to know. What does it all mean?

It's a heady experience filled with a collective anxiety met with relief when the little sex troll dumps the powder out of her head; when she roars; when she flaps her blackened hair like crow wings and screams in their voice. We have so many crows around here. I am now disoriented with a creepy feeling each time I hear crows now. These mornings when I hear them outside my bedroom window that image of the little feminine spook flapping her hair wings and crying out like an accusing crow lives inside my head.

Feeding the baby crows the other night definitely would have been a much more enjoyable experience had I never seen that video.  I find myself repelled by their blackness and their raspy, barking caws,. A negative feeling washes over me when I hear crows now. Why did that performance have this effect on me? I feel haunted, as if trapped in a 19th c novel.

I like the way it starts out as a sensual striptease. The crowd goes crazy during the finale after the crow flaps. The climax, of course, is a relief, so the crowd is adoring and cheering, but then she does that creepy baby show with the voice-over and everything. Mind melding and a wonderful performance. I love the curtsey at the end. My understanding is that this is a gentleman from the Philippines during a Halloween lip synch contest. If this is the caliber of contestants, then I’d like to see the others.

Caw, caw, caw.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Volunteer Me

At the SB Wildlife Care Network -- now a volunteer.

Last night was my first night feeding baby birds, mostly crows. I had shown up to see the training video and Sam handed me an apron and I started learning to feed the crows right away. It's not that hard at all once you get a little used to it. We did have one little fluffball screech owl baby. The cutest thing I've ever seen. He was pretty roughed up with lice and these horrible flatflies which were pretty big and sucking on whatever little bit of flesh he had under that fluff. This meant that the baby owl probably had been exposed to the ground for awhile, which isn't good. I helped hold him while Sam hydrated him. Sam also tried to feed him, but he wasn't into it. Don't know if he made it through the night. Then I helped change tshirt nests in the crow cages and washed some food dishes and syringes. Sam knows all about bird diets and medications. I met Fred, a longtime volunteer there. He was feeding the smaller birds. I asked him if he dreamed about birds. Sam laughed at that. They talked a little bit about the raptor center in Ojai. I hope to go there soon.

Cutest baby bird of the day! Three baby snowy plovers in an aquarium eating sand fleas from lumps of sand brought from Coal Oil Point. Too adorable with their skinny little chicken wings and fuzzy heads.
It was a little after 8 when I left the bird nursery and I hadn't eaten since lunch and had snuck a surf in between work and birdcare, so I was starved, but resisted the urge to go to Chicken Ranch next door. It's too weird chomping on bird parts after playing with their cute fuzzy alive parts.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Conflicted Chicken

During lunch today I went to drop off my application at the SB Wildlife place and I met Sam. Terri said he was eligible, "oh, you'll meet Sam, he's eligible," she smirked, "and you'll meet Fred." Not her type, I was gathering. After seeing the baby birds I went next door and ordered some chicken wings. It was a conflicting experience. Not sure about having the birdie nursery next door to the Chicken Ranch where it smells like succulent, charcoal bird flesh all day long. Every table was filled with chicken eaters. I ordered crispy chicken to go. I stepped back to wait for my order and noticed that the full tables were all male. There were only men having lunch in the meatery. Another woman younger than I came in and placed a to go order. I mentioned to her that the restaurant was all meat, I mean men. (Note to single self.)

I'm going tomorrow after work to see the training video and then I can start feeding the babies!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Cheadle Owl

I'm going to volunteer at the wildlife place and feed baby birds. They have a lot right now because they are all trying to fly and keep not flying.

Where I work, at the university, there’s a great horned owl (the very largest of the owl species) that laid three eggs on the ledge of the third floor of Cheadle Hall outside the window of the Graduate Division Dean's office. The Grad Dean freaked when the owl laid the first egg ("she made a haphazard nest out of leaves that had blown into the corner of the ledge wall; it wasn't a real nest at all") and she called the police. "What do you want us to do about it?" The cops said. "I'm going to be a Grandmaw!" the Grad Dean, exclaimed. Let me call my friend from the raptor rescue, I told her. I peered out the window at momma owl. She looked up at me from where she sat on her nest with intense and wistful yellow eyes.

The crows made an awful ruckus for the first few days. Hardly anyone could get their work done on that side of the building for all the commotion of the large owl sitting ominously in the middle of the tree outside our windows. The momma owl pushed out the first egg from the nest and then the second egg. They sat on the ledge, pure white and a bit larger than the jumbo eggs at Albertson‘s. They balanced on the ledge for all to see abandoned. I named them Chris and Roni and made everyone in Grad Div call them that. The momma owl stayed on the third egg in her makeshift nest. We never saw the male owl. Never. He was supposed to be around. Some people said they saw him, but when I questioned them they never saw two owls together and these people had no credibility in the area so I dismissed their sightings. It was obvious to everyone that this was the momma owl's first clutch.
Baby Postdoc was hatched a little over five weeks later. The birders would climb up to the third floor outdoor stairway in the administration building across the way. They brought binoculars and cameras. People from different departments sent pictures around on email. When baby Postdoc was just a few weeks old I went and peered out Lynn's window on the third floor. She had a direct view into the nest, and I could see momma owl and baby with 4 rats (groceries) piled in the corner of the ledge. Momma owl started leaving baby Postdoc alone more and more during the day. It kinda pissed off the moms in the offices, but I talked to a raptor lady and she said that they will leave their nest to find a place to sleep and she had selected a really bad, public nesting place. There were several owl sightings in front of the Vice Chancellor for Research’s office window ledge. It’s much quieter in the front of Cheadle than the back except during protests. I think baby Postdoc and his untenured momma were probably pretty stressed out from all the attention and interaction they had with us.

I had connected Lynn and Gale with Terri who has been working with raptors since before I met her in that very Cheadle courtyard at least 6 years ago in the month of May. She had a tiny owl on her arm and was giving a demonstration from Eyes in the Sky. Since I’ve been in SB County I’ve heard of the bird and raptor programs and my ears have always pricked. I would like to have a yard where I could nurse large raptors. I’ve had this feeling since the first time we found an injured hawk. I must’ve been about 5 or 6 years old and my teenage uncle had found him and put him in a rabbit hutch in the barn. About the size of a red shoulder, I would say now. He was ferocious and angry in that coop, but my curiosity was stronger than my fear as I approached the hutch and it hissed at me. A noble animal whose flight can only be respected. I felt it at that first meeting and the feeling has never wavered.

So, momma owl was gone more and more often and baby Postdoc started wandering up and down the ledge. The people in those offices noticed, especially Lynn. People came to me regularly, “I haven’t seen the baby owl yet today, where is he?” and I’d have to reassure them one way or another, but I always went and found baby Postdoc and his momma with my own eyes. I saw momma owl sitting in the tree late Monday morning and being pestered by the crows. I thought all day about trying to see baby Postdoc, but I had to work, too. It’s a busy time of year for everyone or maybe we would have noticed when baby Postdoc, alone for quite some time, attempted his first flight. Terri had warned us to expect him to perhaps land on the 2nd story ledges. People in those offices were told.

Postdoc landed in the late afternoon that Monday, unbeknownst to any living creature in Cheadle. He landed in the far corner of the courtyard between the entrance to Budget and Planning and the koi pond with the duck-a-doodles. The ducks and their babies are a regular feature for the Cheadle Hall and SAASB crowd. The koi pond, too with the large koi and smaller fishes swimming zenfully beneath the lily pads. Don’t stick your fingers in the koi pond, btw, just a friendly warning.

There were no witnesses. Postdoc must have fluttered to the ground directly beneath the dean’s office, all the way from the third floor ledge. He must have landed near Phyllis’ office and he probably sought a perch and fluttered again only to land on the edge of the cement trash can lid. The lid has a sloped top that funnels upward and in he slid like a kid through a chute at Chuck E. Cheese. There’s no way he could get out.
 Britt is a tall man. That afternoon he heard an odd noise coming from the trash can and he peered in only to be met with an alarmed pair of yellow owl eyes clacking for its mother. Postdoc made sharp bite sounds with his beak. Britt walked into Phyllis’ office “Well, I can retire,” he said, “I’ve finally seen everything.” They called the police. Phyllis sent someone to find me. This time a police man showed up and he turned the cement trash bin onto its side. The top cover was pulled off and Postdoc instinctively paddled his new wings and sorta fluttered in a bumpy fashion down the covered one story corridor to the other building entrance door by Admissions.
Staff immediately placed a sentry at both the inside and the outside of the door to keep people away from baby Postdoc. Everyone from the building came down. The Chancellor took a couple of pictures with his cellphone from inside. I explained to the others about the behaviors of owls. I couldn’t believe how much I had learned and how much I already knew since Postdoc and his mum came into my life. Postdoc hunched like a cat in the corner peering at us with his piercing yellow eyes and clacking his beak and waving his wings at us if we got too close. He was very frightened. The lady at the SB Wildlife Care Network said that if the mother was around she would probably dive bomb us. But we did not see her. That Monday morning was the last time I saw the momma owl. I looked around the next day, but did not see her. It’s like teen mom and she left her baby in a trash can. I emailed the Grad Dean. She said that Chris and Roni were gone.

The SB Wildlife Care Network picked up Postdoc that evening so he wouldn’t be eaten by land animals and he was transported to the Ojai Raptor Center the next afternoon. I didn’t know he had left Goleta until after work Tuesday when I went to the Fairview location and Julia told me about Postdoc. She said he was very worked up and clacking like one mad owl and ate four mice. I told her how public his birth had been. As we spoke I watched her thaw out mice in the sink for a beautiful baby redtail. He was at about the same stage as Postdoc, not quite a juvenile, but not quite a baby.
Julia said that right now they have a ton of baby birds that need feedings, so she gave me information on how to apply as a volunteer. I filled out the application and have to go view an hour long training video and then I’m gonna be the momma bird! Terri said that maybe she could hook me up with Kim at the Ojai Raptor Center and maybe I can see baby Postdoc, maybe even his release. I better follow up on that in a hurry. Baby owls grow up fast!