From Glenn Reynolds of Instapundit, on his time at the 9/12 Tea Party in Quincy (H/T Quincy News):

QUINCY WRAPUP: I’ve been involved with a lot of events over my life, from civil rights protests to rock concerts to science fiction conventions, and I’ve never been involved with an event that ran with such well-oiled efficiency. I was going to say “ruthless efficiency,” but of course it was cheerful, considerate Midwestern efficiency and not ruthless in the least. The Quincy folks were charming hosts, and threw a dinner party for us last night where all the food was homemade, and delicious.

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It’s pretty cool how much free or really cheap entertainment there is in Quincy, and a shame how much of it people miss out on.

Last night we went to see a group called the Decatur Park Singers.  They were supposed to perform outside at Clat Adams Park, but it was moved into the Civic Center due to the chance of rain.  They’re a group of about 20 college kids, mostly from Milliken University, who travel around performing as their summer job.  They sold CDs and bag chairs to help make money, but they weren’t pushy about it, and it was otherwise paid for by corporate sponsors.

I wasn’t expecting much, honestly.  After all, it was free; how good could they be, right?  Well, they were very good.  They were all great singers and musicians and danced well together, and seemed to be having a great time.  They did a Sesame Street montage that didn’t do much for me (I’ve never seen the show), but I bet the kids who got to go up front for it liked it.  They did songs from pretty much every era, from the Battle Hymn of the Republic to something by Miley Cyrus.  There was even some good 80s music in the mix.  One of the performers was Matt Sullivan from Quincy, who I’m told has performed with the Quincy Little Theater, so he got a big hand from the crowd when he was introduced.

This is one case where our elders are definitely wiser.  I’d say close to 3/4 of the crowd was retirement age.  A lot of this may not have seemed like their kind of music, but it was a fun night out and the price was right.  Smart folks.

We’ll definitely try to catch them again next year, and hope the weather is better so it can be outside the way they planned it.  And I’m going to try to pay more attention to events like this that are outside the usual fare.  People who say there’s nothing to do in this town just aren’t paying attention.

Good quote from the Quincy Tea Party site today:

When the QTP is successful in altering the budget, removing the water / sewer increases, and ending the Quincy Raise-a-Palooza Festival, we vow not to celebrate by convoying city vehicles to Westview for a round of golf.

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In our last local election here in Quincy, the people voted for the status quo.  Our incumbent mayor had been showing signs of big-fish-small-pond syndrome, allegedly telling a reporter to watch himself, and making city government a little too cozy for his friends and insiders.  People understand—even expect—a certain amount of payola and nepotism in city government, but they also expect some restraint.  (See also: Blagojevich.)  If you hire your nephew for an ordinary wage to mow the city golf course and he plays 18 holes while on the clock every day, people will shrug that off as the cost of government.  But if you hire ten nephews and pay them each $100K to work as beer inspectors in the local taverns, they’ll throw you out of office.  There are limits, and the mayor was starting to stretch them in many people’s minds.

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Jason wrote about the first night of the Quincy Pool Tournament, so I might as well add my two cents.

We went back this morning to continue our March Toward Destiny, but it was cut short.  After I won (4-0, thank you very much), we were down two matches to one, and it was lunchtime, so I left.  They didn’t call me back for the next round, so I guess our last two players didn’t continue the comeback for the 3-2 win.

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Officially, I still think the no-smoking law is stupid. Most people I know hated all the smoke in bars and the way their clothes reeked the next day. Even some smokers complained about it. When that many people really want something, the market provides it. People want movies through the mail, deep-fried nuggets of chicken, and sweaters for dogs, so the market provides them. If thousands of people in Quincy really wanted a non-smoking bar, someone would have opened one a long time ago and be raking in the profits. Apparently we didn’t want it that badly.

But I can’t say I miss the smoke. It’s nice to be able to go shoot pool for a few hours and not leave with burning eyes, dry mouth, and a coat that will need to be dry-cleaned before it smells decent again. Last night we played league pool at a bar that’s closing down; so the great legal minds who owned the place decided that, since they weren’t selling alcohol anymore, they could smoke. I don’t know if it was because I’m not used to it anymore, or maybe the thrill of getting away with something had them smoking three times as fast as normal, but it was hard to take. After an hour, my eyes were stinging and there was a definite haze in the air. Luckily, I shot first. Normally I stick around to watch the whole team play, but last night I got the heck out of there as soon as I was done.

That was the last time we play this session, unless we made the city tournament. After playing every Sunday night for the last few months, I’m ready for a break. Especially this time of year, there are plenty of other things to do.

We just got back from the “Christmas Memories” concert put on by the Quincy Symphony Orchestra. I’d recommend it, but it looks like it’s a one-time show; so if you weren’t there, you’re out of luck. At $15, the tickets might seem a bit pricey, but it’s nice to know that you’re supporting a Quincy institution and most of your money isn’t going off to Hollywood or China or someplace.

I’m resistant to the way people keep celebrating Christmas earlier and earlier, and then dropping it by about 3pm on Dec. 25th. (Salvation Army bell-ringers who were out by mid-November, I’m loooking at you.) I try to pace myself so I still have some Christmas spirit for the real Christmas season: the twelve days after Christmas. I guess you have to make an exception for Christmas concerts, though. Who’s performing one on Dec. 26th? I don’t listen to Christmas music on the radio or see seasonal commercials on TV, so I’m not in much danger of overload.

Anyway, I thought it was great. I learned that I need to sit closer to the music next time, though. Lots of people behind us had ants in their pants or something and couldn’t sit still, so the constant rustling and my poor hearing made it hard to hear some of the quieter pieces. They did the Mannheim Steamroller version of Silent Night, which has long been a favorite of mine, and I just couldn’t hear it very well. Next time: up close.

They had a harp ensemble that was pretty cool, although I definitely don’t know anything about harp music. I think there were eight harps (and harpists), which is about eight times as many as I would have guessed existed in Quincy. Apparently, thanks to a lady who has been teaching the harp in Quincy for 62 years, Quincy has more harpists per capita than any other town or city in the United States. This town sure excels at some unusual things.

There were two choirs, one adult and one youth, and they both sounded good. I could have done without the karaoke portion of the program, personally—I’d rather listen to people who have practiced the songs together for weeks than the random crowd around me—but it seemed like people who can sing enjoyed singing along. I especially liked the choirs singing Christmastime is Here from the Charlie Brown Christmas show, and the song the Whos in Whoville sing together in the Grinch show (the cartoon, not the Jim Carrey abomination).

All in all, it was a nice time with a lot of good music, and I hope to attend some of their future performances. When people complain that Quincy doesn’t have enough big-city entertainment options, they should know we do have a pretty darn good symphony you don’t have to drive to St. Louis to see.

I play in a Sunday-night 8-ball pool league. Last night, my opponent made the 8-ball on the break, which in our league is an instant win. That’s not why I lost the match, though; I lost because I beat this guy 4-0 last time we played, so I got sloppy and let the second game get away. Then in the final game, when I was almost certain to win on my next trip to the table, he ran out five balls and the 8-ball to beat me 3-3. A 3-handicap player won’t often sink that many balls in a row even on an open table, so I have to tip my hat to him: he stepped up when he absolutely had to and beat me fair and square.

I like to win but I don’t obsess about it, because the whole point of the handicap system, like Jason says, is to even the playing field as much as possible. Ideally, everyone has an even chance of winning every night, no matter whom they play. It doesn’t work out that way in practice, because there’s simply too much range between the best and worst players to fit in a 2-7 handicap system—a typical 7 would probably beat a typical 2 100 games in a row—but it helps. For us in the middle 3-5 range, it does pretty well. I do care whether I play my best, which I haven’t done consistently lately, so that’s aggravating.

I enjoy playing league, but mostly because I enjoy pool. When I have my own table at home so I can shoot a little every time I need to step away from the keyboard and think a little, I don’t know if I’ll feel the need to play in a league anymore. (Note to self: make sure pool room and office are neighbors on all future house plans.) Most of the people are friendly and fun, but there’s the usual smattering of dorks and people who take it too seriously, who fret about their handicaps or try to game the system. (I have to admit, they’re nothing compared to the poker players who actually care about cutting the cards, though.)

The bars sometimes don’t make it easy to enjoy. For many bars in Quincy, pool seems to be an afterthought. They need pool for the people like me who would go stir crazy without something to do while we watch everyone else talk over the noise; but it’s not a big money-maker, so they squeeze a table or two into a corner somewhere. Case in point: last night at the Twilight Zone. Nice little neighborhood bar with friendly people and good drink prices, typical of Quincy. But they have two pool tables squeezed into a space that would be nice and roomy for one. So the only place to sit near the action is in the corners, two people per corner, and you have to move every time someone shoots from that direction. The whole team can’t sit together and be team-like unless they go to the other part of the bar, and then they can’t see the game or encourage the one who’s playing.

We run into a lot of that: places where it just isn’t very convenient for a dozen people to show up and play and hang out as teams. Nice bars, just not good pool halls. I’m getting too old for the “When I own my own bar I’ll do it right!” fantasy that every guy has at some point between the ages of 25-35; but if I did, you can be sure everything else would have to adjust to make plenty of room for the pool tables. It’d be glorious, for the few months it stayed in business with that focus.

In the last few years, I’ve started walking a lot more. Not just walking for exercise, but walking to actually get places, although my dog often goes along. Last time I lived in Quincy several years ago, I don’t think I walked anywhere. At one point I lived five blocks from work, and I don’t think I walked there once unless my car was broken down. Another time I lived two blocks from the grocery store, and never walked there either. I don’t know why; I guess I just had the drive-everywhere mentality that’s so common. (And maybe driving on Broadway wasn’t so painful back then.)

When I moved to Barry, some businesses were as close as where I parked, so it just made sense to walk, and I had to walk the dog anyway. After living several years in the country where I had to drive 15 miles for groceries, it was a nice change, and it saved a lot of gas. Now that I’m in Quincy, I still walk to the grocery store and a few other places that are close enough. I don’t suppose I’ll be walking the 20 blocks to church any time soon, but maybe once in a while in the spring.

I notice different things walking than driving. There’s a lot of interesting architecture in Quincy; not just in the big houses in the historical areas, but scattered everywhere. Just east of 24th street on College, there are four tiny houses right in a row that are sort of a box-shaped adobe-style, painted in white and bright primary colors. They almost look like toy houses or something from a cartoon. It’d be interesting to hear the story behind those, since they were obviously built at the same time, probably by someone who thought that particular style was the coming thing. There are stuccoed houses, steel houses, houses with cool chimneys, and plenty of other things to see. There are tiny offices and home businesses tucked away here and there that don’t catch the eye at 30mph. You have time to admire flowerbeds, lawn decorations, and chalk drawings kids make on the sidewalk.

I smell different things too. In a few places, I’ve caught the unmistakable odor of sewer gas. I wonder if that’s normal in town, or a problem the city should be notified about? People complain about the smell from neighboring hog farms when they move to the country; I can’t imagine they wouldn’t complain about that smell in the middle of town. Just west of 24th on Oak, across from County Market, there’s a nasty whiff of it there. If I lived in that stretch of houses, I don’t know how often I’d want to spend time in my front yard. Then there are much better aromas: walking past Spring Street Bar the other day started my mouth watering. I don’t know what they serve there, but it sure smelled good. I’ll have to walk over there with my pool cue one of these days and find out.

When I stop at the store, I tie Pepper up outside. I think she gets a lot of attention out there, because once in a while I come out and people are talking to her or petting her—usually kids. Most of the time she’s sitting and watching the door for me, though. I haven’t seen anyone else leave a dog outside while shopping, but it just makes sense to me: if I’m going to walk a dog, why not make a couple stops along the way? Now I just need to get her a backpack and have her carry some groceries for me, like Cesar Millan does.

There isn’t really much news to report (that I know of), but I thought I should write something about how it’s going, since about half my blog traffic these days is people reading the St. Rose articles. The church will have its own web site soon, and then I’ll start pointing at news there.

The furnace had gone out last week, so we had a chilly 8:00am Mass. It was fixed by the time Mass ended, but it hadn’t really built up any heat yet. It was cold enough outside that everyone was wearing coats, though, so we survived okay.

I was the one who printed up the Propers (a sheet of the prayers and readings that aren’t in the missals in the pews because they change from week to week), so I almost choked when I was following along with the reading and got to “nammer” instead of “manner.” Apparently I need to proofread those when I copy-and-paste them from a web site. There were a few other typos; I hope to have this Sunday’s mistake-free.

I’ve been asked a lot of questions about the Latin Mass since all this started. Some people are interested in attending, but they aren’t sure what they’re getting into. I was the same way the first time I went, wondering if there was anything I should learn first, so I wouldn’t goof up and look like a newbie. (Note: the following are my understanding sprinkled with my opinions, not official instructions by any means.)

Don’t worry about goofing up; no one will be watching you. Dress nice and sit about halfway back or more, so you can watch the people in front of you to know when to do what. (We regulars are still shaky on all that, so if you sit up front, you might mess the rest of us up. ) Missals are in the pews, and the Propers will be on a folded sheet of paper you can get at the entrance. There’s usually someone there who will be glad to make sure you have what you need if you tell them you’re a first-timer. The missal tells you what’s happening when, and shows the prayers in English and Latin. Or leave the missal closed and focus on what’s happening at the altar and pray. Trying to follow along exactly when you’re new at it all can be distracting.

Women are encouraged to wear dresses or skirts, but I’ve seen lots of slacks and some jeans so far, and no one’s been kicked out. Try not to wear something that has people asking about your Buns of Steel workout, though. Men should dress nice too. I think almost every guy has a pair of slacks and a shirt with a collar, and if you don’t wear your nice clothes to church, what are you saving them for? But if all you have are jeans and you’re really strapped for cash, don’t let that stop you from coming. (Again, my opinion.)

Many women like to wear a veil or hat, as was required a couple generations ago. I’ll save the reasons for that for another post I’m working on, but don’t feel like you’ll stand out if you don’t wear one. I’m a big fan of hats on women in general, so I hope it catches on.

Since the Mass is the 1962 Roman Rite, there’s no Communion in the hand. Communion is taken on the tongue, kneeling at the Communion rail, as it was for centuries before all the changes in the late 1960s. If a disability prevents you from kneeling or climbing the stairs to the Communion rail, sit in the front pew and I’m pretty sure Father will bring it to you, but you might want to make sure he knows your situation. By the way, Confession is available before Mass, if you didn’t arrive in a state of grace. There should be a Rosary before Mass, but I don’t know if we’re organized enough yet to make sure someone leads that every time.

I think that covers everything you really need to know. If you’ve been thinking of coming but weren’t sure what was required, I hope you’ll relax and join us. The Low Mass at 8:00 takes about an hour; and the High Mass at 11:00 takes somewhat longer. Make sure you join us in the hall behind the church after Mass and introduce yourself. (Hey, I’m known for being anti-social, but I’ll be there.) If you decide you’d like to join, you don’t have to drop out of your current parish, since St. Rose is technically a chaplaincy, not a parish, for now.