Bobby Fischer, RIP

I am not going to get all weepy over the news that Bobby Fischer has died, but feel it appropriate to contribute my two cents.

Fischer was not the reason I started playing chess, or the reason I continued to dabble with the game once it became clear I didn't have the talent or will to pursue a title. But for a time, in 1972, Bobby Fischer was able to bring chess into the limelight in a way that eclipsed the (clueless) media's compulsion to concentrate on things it understood, i.e., petulance and histrionics, or thought it did, i.e., Cold War symbolism, and ignore things it understood not at all. People who otherwise had no interest in the game tuned in the live television coverage, making commentator Shelby Lyman something of a 15-minute celebrity back then.

I remember being at my girlfriend's house for the 6th game of the Fischer-Spassky match, trying to coach a few of her younger brothers in the game. For no understandable reason, and without thinking about it, I turned to the back inside cover of a book of Alekhine's games that I had with me and which had been given to me as a gift and recorded the moves of the game as they were played.

And what a game it was!

First off, Fischer started the game with 1.d4, which created a huge buzz, because Fischer had never been known to play anything other than 1.e4 as White, ever, in his career. And though I am not of that caliber of player who can recall games from memory years after they are played (my own or anyone else's), I do still remember how exciting it was to watch the game unfold and see Fischer win.

While I can admire the accomplishments of sports figures, I have never been one to become too emotionally involved in being a sports fan. When Fischer's title was forfeited during the next Championship cycle, I read the news, formed an opinion, but didn't feel a need to evangelize about it. When news surfaced that Fischer had espoused a set of deranged ideas, I didn't feel a need to immerse myself in the controversy.

I could go on, but work calls. In short, I prefer to remember the Bobby Fischer of 1972, who made being the very best at what he did look so easy, and who left us so many beautiful games.

Cheers...

A shred of understanding...

I'm coming to a realization that I shouldn't feel too bad about my perception of slow progress with the OCR Nightmare, especially when juxtaposed against other work. Today, it seems I've been working for a long time, but a cold, hard review of how I've spent my time will probably reveal a little too much surfing and perhaps even too much LJing (anything to not deal with road construction, y'dig?).

So yeah, on the one hand, I haven't blasted through 20 pages of text since waking up. On the other hand, I've done 1/3 of what I've planned to do for the day.

I'm going to look for a stopping point in the next 15 mintues or so and then go get ready for my t'ai chi class.

Cheers...

TIE Me Kangaroo Down, CHEE

Last week's t'ai chi class underwhelmed me in terms of what I actually learned, but impressed me in terms of the exhibition that the teacher presented to us. Today's session was an entirely different kettle of fish.

I should note that about the only people available to attend a one-hour course at a public library at 1 pm on a weekday are either lucky devils such as myself or retired people, and in this particular case, very retired people. Indeed, of the five people taking the course, it is likely the others were all in high school when I was learning to walk.

I note this about my classmates only as a preface to the statement that today's lesson physically drove two of our august assembly to the point where they had to pause and sit down.

I have never been one to enjoy the kind of exercise where it's easy for the mind to lose focus after an exceedingly short period. Heck, I've been known to lose count of the number of times I've been around a standard quarter-mile track before the first mile is complete, and much the same is true for laps in a pool.

On the other hand, at this early stage, I find that concentrating on what I'm doing is (a) what I'm supposed to be doing anyway, and (b) enabling me to enjoy the exercise more fully.

* * *On the work front, I am now 2/3 of the way through the day's dose of the OCR Nightmare (yay!). But I'm still only halfway through what needs to be done, however, as I have allowed my bank account to overrule my brain and have accepted 4,000 words or so for midday Tuesday.

Dinner calls.

Cheers...