Foster House and Barry Goldwater

This morning, as I procrastinate from working--a bit annoyed that there are no decent seminars here at the AVCA Convention this morning, I came across a comment from someone that "Inequality is the root of social evil."  It was attributed to Pope Francis--and it sounds like something he would say, but this is the internet, and like Abraham Lincoln says, "You can't trust every quote you find on the internet."

It reminded me of like in Westgate 307, the year I had Chris Gabel as a roommate, living in a suite with Steve Haugse and Dave Meythaler.   Steve Haugse had a message board posted outside his door in case people stopped by while he was out--yup, this is long before email, cell phones, or text messages...back in the era when people actually talked with one another.

Sometimes Meythaler would post quotes on the board, and often, we found it fun to mess with him...and the quotes.  The best was when he posted one of Barry Goldwater's most famous quotes:

"Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice." 
(Editorial comment: Recent torture revelations certainly prove this an inaccurate assertion)

So we changed it a little:

*Liberty in the extremism of vice is no defense.
*Vice in the defense of extremism is no liberty.
*Extremism in the vice of defense is not liberty.

And we put every combination up on the door.
Dave wasn't amused initially.  He'd posted the Goldwater quote as something profound and we made a mockery of it...which Foster House excelled at.  If snark was an Olympic event, Foster House of 1986-88 would have been repeat Gold Medalists.

But having written all this above, what's shocking is that Goldwater's quote, considered outrageously radical in the early 1960s in a time of tension with the USSR, the height of the Cold War, today is accepted by more than half the American population--torture to get info from MAYBE-bad guys?  Good.  Lack of due process?--if it means "security", great, doesn't affect me.  But at what point does it slide further--we already have tortured foreigners we thought could potentially be terrorists--when do we start the torture of citizens?  When does it become okay to rectally insert food for the sake of stopping a string of robberies?

Would Goldwater appreciate that the LA School District now has a mine-resistant APC or grenade launchers?  (Yes, that's right--a school district has THREE grenade launchers)  Think he'd be happy with the increase in SWAT raids across the country, the accidental deaths of hundreds of people in those raids (the total over the past decade is now something like 105).

The answer is no.  The world changed.  Goldwater, once considered a conservative extremist, saw politics move in his lifetime (after white Southerners took over the Republican Party, infusing it with silly fundamentalist religious, political, and racist views) so that at the end of his political career, Goldwater was considered a moderate and on some issues "liberal".  The man who admired Goldwater, Reagan,--Reagan couldn't be elected today--doesn't pass Republican 'litmus tests'.

I guess maybe we shouldn't have been so flippant about that Goldwater quote.  It proved to be far more prescient than I, as a nineteen year old, could ever have suspected.

My team could beat an NCAA Final Four team. Really.

Okay--my LLCC team, really could beat an NCAA Final Four team, but there are a couple catches to all this.

A couple weeks ago, I was talking with Sandy Hamilton who played at Illinois as Sandy Scholtens a couple years before I got to work with the Illini volleyball team.  Her senior year, Illinois went to the Final Four for the second time.  They were a great volleyball team, probably the most dominant team in the Midwest, certainly east of the Mississippi.

My comment to her was, "If you suddenly teleported your team forward to now, we'd beat them."
Sandy: "No way."
Me: "Yup, I don't mean that cocky.  Think about volleyball today."

The Illini lineup-1988
S:       5'7
RS:    5'9
MH1: 5'10
MH2: 5'10
OH1: 5'8
OH2: 5'8
(I put Mary Eggers at an OH, Bush and Brookhart as the MH for posterity)

LLCC lineup-2014
S:        5'7
RS:     5'11
MH1:  5'11  or 6'1
MH2:  6'1
OH1:  5'10
OH2:  6'1   or 5'10
We're a two-year college and 26 years later, I've got a height advantage almost everywhere.  Just as important, I remember most of those Illini players, and at least two of my kids absolutely hit harder, probably two others as well.  See why I say that?   I think that says a lot about how volleyball has changed--just as importantly, how girls and women's athletics have changed for the better.  What was once a collection of all-American NCAA talent, one of the four most dominant teams in the US, now would be the equivalent of a Top 15-20 NJCAA team.

Of course, if you put LLCC up versus the 2014 Illini, my goal's to get to ten points in a game.

Illini lineup-2014
S:        6'1
RS:      6'6
MH1:  6'4
MH2:  6'4
OH1:   6'1
OH2:   6'2
6'1 and taller across the board and while I've got kids I know hit harder than what the '88 team did, I'm not sure they hit harder than the '14 Illini players--not to mention my OH are giving up 6" of height against the RS block, and are shorter than even the setter.

So it's all perspective.  And for the better.

In 1988, Midwest teams, East Coast teams, had never won a title.  And then the dam burst--Nebraska...a lot of Penn State, etc.  Ohio State's been to the Final Four, Michigan, Florida State, bunches of teams now beyond the West Coast.  There are no longer four or five great programs, now there are twenty or thirty, and on any given night, those teams are capable of beating the other top teams.

USA Volleyball preaches (rightfully) that there's room for the game to expand (hence 'grow the game').  The above is a small example of how the game has changed, how the skill is improving as well as the athleticism of the women involved (I'd bet much of this is true for the men's side though I have no experience with it--but would love to hear thoughts on that).  The NFHSA says volleyball is still growing.  As that happens, and as the level of coaching improves through experience, the quality of the game will pick up.

* * *
In the 1960s-1970s, there were only a few dominant men's basketball teams...mainly Wooden's UCLA team.  The NCAA Tournament wasn't that big either.  With increased revenue, increased TV coverage, men's basketball has grown so that you can see amazing athletes at smaller colleges, and there's always one sleeper school advancing nowadays.  I think volleyball's at that 1960s-1970s point in time.  Yup, if history repeats itself, we're on the cusp of a golden age...we just have to keep pushing because once that ball gets rolling, be ready for a ride because it won't stop!

And now, off to the AVCA Convention and Final Four....after a talk to 5th graders on the value of education and an LLCC Athletics Staff Meeting.

In honor of "Dead Week"...

So it is Dead Week in Ames this week, and for some reason, I got to thinking about the way Dead Week used to work--I have no idea how it goes any more.

Anyways, once you got to the week before Finals, everything had to be quiet for 23.5 hours.  The only exception was 10-1030pm where the noise restrictions were lifted and pretty much anything would go.

Of course, it's important to realize that in an 'academic' building, things were usually quiet, and Foster House was in between an all-girls floor, and a group of uber-nerds on the floor above (Nelson).  Nelson took their studies wayyyyy too seriously and would complain throughout the year about conversations they heard through the bulkhead-like walls of Westgate or music being played or any number of things.  --I can still name people who lived on Stalker, Lowe, and of course, Foster, but the only name I remember from Nelson was Yvette Louisell, and I remember her because she murdered a paraplegic and now lawyers are arguing she was a minor and should be released because she's paid a 25-yr price.  ...makes me want to vomit.  So anyways, no one from Nelson ever did anything social.  Ever.

So it was the winter of 1987 when we invented a new sport that burned like a meteor, played furiously for a week, then forgotten.  The game was Hall Ball.  Yes, a very original, unique name.  Westgate's halls were only 7-8 feet wide, a narrow corridor, extending for maybe the equivalent of half a city block.  The game involved however many people were around trying to kick a basketball from one end of the hall to the opposing end.  There were no other rules....which meant tackling was fine.  Elbows, gouging, everything, which was all the better given that there were 12-16 people playing.  Ahhh, the noise was enough to even bring about the wrath of the girls living below us.

Do people do these sorts of things now?  I remember we'd go in groups of 8-12 to get pop at KwikShop (and I remember one person at the end of the line drinking everything before reaching the register and then not paying at all...funny how that was amusing then and now strikes me as ethically unacceptable)

I also made sure during Dead Week and Finals to do a couple extra shifts over at KUSR--Ames' Best Choice for Rock and Roll, though now the station is KURE and soon they will be moved out of Friley Hall to locations unknown.  Maybe reading about that triggered the urge to write this.  I don't know.

What I know is that I lived with the greatest collection of personalities the world has seen.  If you are one of those and read this--you are loved.  If you are not reading this, you're loved, too.

Greetings and welcome to the annual installment of the Dietz Christmas Letter. I know, I know...under most circumstances, you're thinking, “Ahh, holy crap, they still have my email, still have my mailing address,” and you know what—you're right. So suck it up, you get to take one for the team.

I thought about doing something nice (no, you still have to read this) and making an advent letter, sending everyone a new letter every day of the Christmas season because I know you guys would've LOVED 25 letters. Except it's already December 3, so out the door that one went. I thought about doing a crossword puzzle, but SJTBWPSOWSWHWWLCLPSOCWMOTGCAKOFMHROKS informed me that I've done that before. Crud.

So let's start with a recap of the 2013 DCL: “I'm an athlete, baby!!!” --and the witnesses are still alive who heard that.

And now, on to 2014...(and your free continuing education credit in poetic forms):
 

BRIGITTE (the name)
Brigi is the nickname they gave her

Right when she arrived in Hungary for the year

It's fitting, but sentimental, I prefer
Getty-Spaghetti or just Getty, but I haven't called her Debbie in months
I wish she could be home for the holidays
Though I can't describe my pride of her
Time abroad, it flies fast, so I'll see her soon enough
Except then she comes home just to head to college.
 

 

SPECIAL BLOG BONUS--PHOTOS!!!  

This is when we went and picked up a 1965 Mustang.  My mom said to do something silly when I could with some of the money she left when she died.  My mom loved Mustangs, so this felt right.  Right now the car is having some restoration work done to it and a professional paint job.  It'll reappear just in time for spring!  (I may even let her drive it.  Once.  For half a block.)

 

 

Brigitte is studying abroad this year with Rotary International. She was assigned to Debrecen, Hungary, where she's gone to school, played volleyball (which is REALLY important), and already traveled to Rumania and Austria. This spring, she may hit most of the rest of Europe. After that, she'll come home, spend the summer helping me with volleyball working for slave wages because she loves me and looks like me (I'm so sorry, sweetie), and then off to college. That's right—you have to read NEXT YEAR'S amazing, spectacular 359^th annual DCL to find out where she decided to go to school.

 

This is Brigitte and three of her exchange buddies from August when they arrived in Hungary.

ERICK (the haiku)

 

Eats lots of pizza

College: Sleep, study, student gov

Three semesters left
 

It's odd to think that Erick's on the 'downside' of his undergraduate degree. It was only yesterday he was in Poland, the day before we were playing boardgames in the basement, and the day before that, he was crapping up his neck in his carseat in the back of my old Saturn. I miss those days...but not the crap in the hair rollin' down on I-74. Erick's still at God's Own University (Iowa State) studying Material Engineering/Stuff that Makes My Brain Bleed. He's no longer President of Friley; instead (hey, notice the properly used semi-colon—this DCL is quality, I'm telling you), he was elected as a senator to the ISU Government of the Student Body. He also does tours for the Engineering College—so if you're in Ames, you should take one—he's not allowed to be snarky, has to be polite and charming...really, I am not making that up. You have to see it to believe it.

 

 

Erick is on the right.  He's in the M-Shop, an Iowa State landmark known for great live shows.  It's in the Memorial Union, upstairs (I THINK) from his government office.

 

 

MIKE/TMOC (the tanka)

Maker of chaos

Junior High, soccer and band

Eats like there's no tomorrow

Please send us money, we're broke

Teenage boys eat so much!

 

 

This is Mike at Julie's department summer picnic outing with a co-worker's dog.  Trying to find photos of Mike sitting still are difficult...unless he's laying under dogs or playing Xbox.

One of the great joys of parenthood is seeing how kids develop. Mike has retained a love of comic books, but has branched out by spending the summer at camp doing rock-climbing and archery, and continues to play soccer (football for the civilized readers), but he's also found he loves being in the band playing clarinet—and this spring, I think he's going to go out for track. I think that's where his aptitude is—he can fly when he runs. The only sad thing—he hasn't really done anything chaotic this year...well, other than manage the current presidential administration's foreign policy. That's probably enough for one thirteen year old.

 

JULIE (the cinquain)

 

My wife

Advising Prof

Knitting, church, parenting

More help than a man could deserve

Awe. Some.

(just enjoy the choir...these aren't our kids...not that I know of anyways.  Then again, Julie knits a ton--remember her acronym...so these MAY be her hats...)

SJTBWPSOWSWHWWLCLPSOCWMOTGCAKOFMHROKS: St. Julie, the Blessed Wife, Patron Saint of Women stuck with husbands who write long Christmas letters, Patron Saint of Coaching Wives, Mother of the Golden Children and Keeper of the Most Holy Room-Occupying Knitting Stash. I could just copy/paste that every year and you'd have the scoop. Julie decided to go musical (with Brigitte) this summer and had a role in a production of The Music Man, so you know where TMOC gets it from (there's a genetic joke in there...think about it)

She's every bit as amazing today as in this picture.  Me...not so much.

JIM (the ABC)

Another year of coaching

But this year, I added time with USA Volleyball

Jolly Roger did well with another new release (Kremlin),

My preference would be to earn enough to retire as

I (but not Julie) grow older

That won't happen writing the DCL in multiple poetic forms.

(My group of athletes at USA High Performance in Las Vegas.  I'm in my USA shirt.  It's a big ego rush to be part of the national program.  You wear the shirt with pride....and the program paid off later as the actual adult national team won the World Championship this fall.  I owe big thanks to Denise Sheldon at USAV for trusting me to work with a great group of young athletes--I hope I lived up to expectations and hope to do this again in 2015)

Picked up win #500 this year and had a fun season; the team improved all the way, but unfortunately we hit the #1-ranked team in the country in our region final and that was that (the equivalent of making the 2^nd Round of the NCAAs if you are unfamiliar with NJCAA sports). I also got to work with USA Volleyball this summer—that was a lot of fun and I got to enjoy meeting several coaches who are now friends (Denise, Emily) and got to work with some amazing young athletes—I'm jealous of what they are already capable of as 11-12 year olds! Jolly Roger did all right—still in business. For my ego, another book was accepted for publication and should've been out last month (I understand publishing delays!) called “Kandahar”. I'm hoping to submit a couple more in 2015—though if anyone knows an agent who can help...that'd be great. Heck—find me an agent, I'll buy you dinner!

(Dave Pieart, Greg Smith, me, at a vb tourney in Cedar Rapids.  They can tear down Westgate...rat bastages...but Foster House expatriates will still join together wherever possible)

And for the rest of the update—I'll spare you the poetic forms, though without question, the greatest mother-in-law in the world (see how I schmooze there—yet another tip for a better life provided free of charge in the DCL) is deserving of a Homeric ode. Julie's parents are doing fine, still in Herrin, other than the two weeks they went road-tripping to San Padre Island for Spring Break—Julie's dad was featured on MTV...I wish I would've seen it, but I only imagine...) Julie's brother and his wife added a baby girl to their family—Isabella. I would've named her Julie—that's the best possible name for a beautiful woman to have (see the previous schmooze comment).

So, Debbie/Brigitte had to go and match—having babies is an arms race, so at the end of December or start of January, I'll be an Uncle again. You know, me and SJTBWPSOWSWHWWLCLPSOCWMOTGCAKOFMHROKS will get bled dry in a few years when it comes time for graduation gifts...this is like 37 nephews and nieces now. You can help though—send me cash or a check payable to “Help Jim and Julie Pay for Graduation Gifts or a Vacation to Rio Fund”. We take PayPal also. She's fine, still working for the VA, and her husband Chris is doing well—he does amazing art stuff, both for people like hotels and small stuff! I do worry about my oldest niece, Zayn, though—she's 11 and is already worried about the recidivism of the proletariat as related to the bourgeois angst related to the financial crisis of 2006.

Last, but certainly not least, shortly after the writing of the instant-classic 2013 DCL, we had a couple additions to our family here—because you can never have enough chaos (That's chaos with a lower case 'c', not upper-case 'C' which stands for Michael...). We added two puppies to the family: Kaiju and Jaeger. They were supposed to be small rat-terriers we picked up from a rescue organization. Turns out the people who gave up the dogs to the shelter lied—they aren't rat terriers. They are partial terriers...but Kaiju, he's 50% rottweiler (or rat-weiler) while Jaeger, she's got some collie blood in her. Instead of 10-15lbs, they are MUCH bigger (Jaeger is 30, Kaiju is 47), quick as can be, and really friendly and energetic (unless you are a cat, Christmas decorations, a deer shaped archery target, or blowing paper—then you are mortal enemies) With two kids out of the house, Kaiju and Jaeger keep life loud here—between them, they eat everything—plastic, string, paper. Julie turned her back and Kaiju was able to snag a pound of bacon from the counter (yeah, our dogs have good taste in real food...mmmm, bacon).

(At about 3 months, playing 'Let's Catch the Creature Hiding')

(At nine months...this was about 8-10lbs of weight ago.  It was nice of them to pose for the picture, usually they are a blur of energy.)

(Notice Mike having to lean back?  Yeah, Kaiju and Jaeger are lean, mean running machines unlike, say....me.)

That's the end of the snark.

Far more seriously—we are happy you read this because it means you are friend or family. Too many people worry about power and money, just as many hate and live bitter—there's not enough time for that. I wish there was more time to spend with all of you—Julie and I value you more than anything, more so as years pass. If you are ever in the area, give a holler, spend a night. Send an email or a Facebook message. Take care and enjoy Christmas and New Year, enjoy the family time, the family 'arguments', the food, the chaos of kids and presents, the hugs, the music, all of it, and please know that you are in our thoughts and conversations here regularly. Except for Dave. We don't talk about him. (Yeah, you thought I could stay away from snark for the rest of this? Crap—that was SIX whole sentences of seriousness...it almost killed me)

Merry Christmas,

Me

SJTBWPSOWSWHWWLCLPSOCWMOTGCAKOFMHROKS

Brigi

Senator Palpati---Erick

TMOC

Kaiju

Jaeger