The Phone Call by Ray Shay

The Phone Call 

By Ray Shay

9.9.14

Friday Night Lights at DNHS

I love watching youth sports.  I'm always up for just about any sport including baseball, soccer, basketball, volleyball or a football game.  I especially enjoy Friday Night Lights at Del Norte High School.  It is something about seeing the kids turning into adults, the spirit of competition, the dance team, the cheerleaders and of course the parents.

 

Even if one of our three sons did not attend DNHS, Theresa and I would still probably attend some of the games. The National Football League could learn something from high school football. The problem with the NFL is their football train has way too many stops.

I feel like the minute the train starts rolling we have to stop for commercials courtesy of, "TV timeouts." Honestly, how many beer, car or Viagra commercials can a person watch in a single evening? If I was the National Football League Commissioner Roger Goodell, I would simply cut the number of commercials in half and double their price.  At the end of the day, we would have happier fans, much better football, and the NFL would still make a truckload of money.  

Unfortunately, the problem Theresa and I ran into Friday night outside of Del Norte High School had nothing to do with high school football. Sure, most of the fans thought the play calling was questionable and they didn't like getting skunked by our rival Rancho Bernardo High School.  But that  

is all part of high school sports, take the bad with the good as they say and hope the coach and team learns from it. 

What really ruined our Friday night started as a dark cloud of acrid smoke drifting into DNHS parking lot.  It was coming from two adults smoking dope as they sat on the wall of Fairbanks Commons affordable housing, which is located directly across the street from Del Norte High School.   
 

As we approached the two adults I bit my tongue but the words "Are you kidding me?" leaked out under my breath. Both of the criminals looked at us when I said it.    

I knew there were about to be hundreds of high school kids walking past these two geniuses. I slowed my pace and started to confront them and then I made the decision to keep walking.  

Something I learned long time ago is that if someone is not in imminent danger and your not on duty, you avoid direct confrontation.  Approaching people under the influence of drugs or alcohol has a unique way of very quickly spiraling out of control.  You just call the experts.  You call the San Diego Police Department or the Sheriff's Department. 

Before the phone calls an emails come rolling in, let me make something very clear.  This is not a cheap shot at affordable housing.  If this would have been BIll Gates multi-million dollar estate home next door to a high school, I would have done exactly the same thing.  There should be an atmosphere of zero tolerance for drugs at that location or anywhere near where our kids live, play or attend school.

After giving the two adults a well practiced glare, I escorted Theresa to our car parked nearby.  I felt like I was back at work scanning the area for rival drug dealers, or people walking up to buy drugs.  All this while I can still hear John Kennedy announcing our athletes battling on the DNHS "Nest" Home Field.  I admit it. I was not a happy camper.   

I called the SDPD and reported what I had seen with a full description of both persons and asked if the police could please arrive before the game got out.  I understand in the big scheme of things that smoking marijuana is way down on the list of crimes in progress.

I also know with modern technology every phone call and every complaint is logged and gives law enforcement officers a tool to combat criminal behavior.  My phone call and description gave a police officer the reason they need to walk up and confront the two young men.
 
I guess my point is a reminder to all of us that if you see criminal behavior just make the phone call.  As a beat cop I was often too busy to respond to the call at the time it was broadcast, but it is uncanny how often that description would be used later in the night to confront and arrest countless criminals.
I know your busy, but just make the phone call.  You can remain anonymous if you like, but failing to call the police is tacit approval saying that type of criminal behavior is acceptable in our community.  We all work too hard to live here.   
Take the time to throw the yellow flag in the air and stop the behavior.  After all, we love our Friday Night Lights at Del Norte High School and we will be back.

 

Have a great week,

  

  

Copyrighted - All Rights Reserved - Shay Realtors 2014 

Viking Sanwiches

Viking Sandwiches

by Ray Shay

5.6.14

    

As I swam lap after lap in the pre-sunrise darkness at Del Norte High School's amazing swimming pool, my mind drifted to memories of my mom. I don't recall if it was the upcoming Mother's Day this Sunday that triggered thoughts of her, or my private agreement with myself that whenever I swim in the ocean or enter a large body of water, I always think of her.

I usually make a point of saying, "hello." The type of hello that is off the cuff, almost as if I just walked into her busy kitchen, so many years ago.   Sometimes I can even hear the sounds of my  "hey mom" leaving my lips, while usually it's only a slight whisper in the deep recesses of my constantly busy brain.

The ocean connection with my mom comes from the lyrics one of my favorite Jimmy Buffet songs, A Pirate Looks at Forty...

Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call,

Wanted to sail upon your waters

since I was three feet tall.

You've seen it all, you've seen it all.

My mom certainly did see it all. As for my dad, the same thing occurs when I see stars in the night sky or a Navy fighter jet fly by.

He was a Naval Aviator and for some reason he was also infatuated with Stephen Hawkins and his study of black holes in deep outer space.  Kind of funny the things you remember about your parents. Both flying and the outer reaches of the galaxy are way above my pay grade.

As I swam, I thought of my mom and of course her, "Viking Sandwiches." The swimmer in the adjoining lane is a long time family friend named "Judy" who has amazingly beautiful dark brown almond shape eyes and a smile and laugh that always puts people immediately at ease. Since Judy had the swimming cap on her head her eyes were like black diamonds sparkling away, as they reflected off the immense surface of water.

I asked Judy about her daughter who is about to graduate from DNHS. Judy said her daughter had recently told her how much she was going to miss her mom's spaghetti. Judy laughed as she explained her daughter had exclaimed, "no one makes spaghetti like you mom."  Then came the smile and that amazing laugh again. I love Judy.

I thought how freaky it was that somehow in that vast pool of chlorinated water, both Judy and I were thinking about cooking and how food makes an indelible connection between parents and their children. 
As I began swimming the remainder of my workout, I thought of my mom's own laugh and her darn "Viking" cheese sandwiches. They were legendary and not because they were perfect sandwiches, but rather because they were perfectly, imperfect.

There really was nothing quite like em. First you have to understand with seven kids to feed our mom did everything fast, so her margin of error was pretty wide. I can still see her breaking out the whole square slab of American cheese and a loaf of white bread. As she talked away she would start slicing the cheese, but it was not like a normal person. She chopped it up like a Viking Sushi Chef on crack cocaine.

She would swing the large knife down on the soft yellow block and what would result is not slices but a series of "V" shaped pieces of cheese.  My mom never stopped talking as she asked about us our day, our sports, our lives, or telling us how much she loved being a mom.  She then buttered the bread, tossed the cheese on them and grilled them up.

Oh boy, it was an adventure to eat them. Some brown and some slightly burnt. It would drive any Qualcomm engineer absolutely crazy as the tip of the V was like hot lava while the other end was still ice cold.   You had to be careful because the cold part of the cheese may stick to your teeth while the narrow part seared the roof of your mouth or your lips as you suppressed a, "$%&^ that's hot!"

With my mouth half full of cheese and the toasted buttery bread, I would often tell my mom she was like a Viking. Of course she would laugh and then be off doing a variety of chores because there was certainly no housekeeper or helper in our home.

When I was a bachelor living in San Diego my dad sent me a Joy of Cooking cook book and wrote me a little note. You can see what he wrote above.

Mom and Dad

With both my parents passing within a few months of each other, I feel so fortunate to have these memories.  It reminds me to continue building great memories with our children.  As I continued my swim and saw the yellow sun beginning to peak over the eastern mountains, I felt a sense of good fortune. 

We were lucky to have such amazing parents and that they had such a "Live On" attitude.  They would not want any of us to mourn for them.

As I hurried to finish my workout, I could only think about Judy's delicious spaghetti. I hope she reads this story one day and brings me a plate.  I bet her daughter is right. There is only one spaghetti like Judy's and I suspect her smile and laugh are a few of the essential elements that make it so amazing.


Happy Mother's Day Mom, ,


Ray

 

Copyright Shay Realtors 2014 All Rights Reserved.