Tag: pickleball

One woman’s utopia: A Barbieland society with ample pickleball courts

On By StormyIn Attitude, Men, RelationshipsLeave a comment

When I first heard about The Barbie Movie, I wasn’t that interested—a movie about Barbie dolls? Unlike KitKat, who grew up with sisters and played with Barbies a lot, I never even had an actual Barbie doll…My sisters were 9-17 years older; so if they had any Barbies, they would have resembled “weird Barbie” by the time I came along. I envied my friends who had a whole cache of Barbies and a case for her clothes. To have the Corvette or Dream House would have been a luxury I couldn’t even envision. As the eighth child surrounded by boys, rusty Tonka Trucks were in good supply, but not many dolls—let alone fashion dolls.

At that point in my tender youth, when everyone was still courting skin cancer in search of The Savage Tan, Malibu Barbie was It. I desperately wanted one, but the closest I ever got was Malibu P.J. (Google it: PJ was one of Barbie’s transitory friends, although she was never mentioned in the movie.) This sums up my youth in a nutshell. If something was cool or popular, I probably didn’t have that thing. But I usually, eventually, acquired a less popular, less expensive version of The Popular Thing instead. Sigh. What a tragic childhood. I’m sure this has left deep scars…but I think it also reinforced my tendency to occasionally buck the trends, and I believe a little nonconformity is good for a person, so it all balances out… 

Anyway, back to our story. 

As a marketer, I was impressed with the promotion of the movie—I had never seen such a thorough marketing campaign for a movie. The number of clever cross-promotions was staggering, a true Master Class. But I still had no interest in seeing a movie about Barbie dolls. 

That is, until the reviews started rolling in. And angry MAGA types started bashing the movie. Now I was intrigued. The week it opened, I met KitKat on the pickleball court. She mentioned she had seen The Barbie Movie the night before. “I loved it!” she exclaimed. “You’ve gotta see it.” We talked a little about how it showed men’s and women’s roles (with no spoilers), and I agreed that it sounded like something I’d enjoy. 

As we were playing pickleball that day, we noticed an older guy (late 60s/early 70s perhaps?) “teaching” his friend/girlfriend/wife how to play. He stood showing her how to hold the racquet, serving ball after ball for her to hit in a rote manner, constantly “correcting her” and  never letting her actually “play.” Pickleball is not a difficult sport to learn and even our professional instructor let KitKat and me play during our first paid lesson. We felt bad for this woman.

Later that week, Oskar and I went to a matinee of Barbie. We both enjoyed the movie and thought it was thought-provoking. I told him about our pickleball observation which directly relates to one scene in the movie. Afterward, I read a few more reviews [Bill Maher: INSERT EYEROLL HERE] and my overall takeaway was that while the patriarchy is exaggerated somewhat for effect in the movie—many men think it’s GREATLY exaggerated, while other men and most women realize it’s only SLIGHTLY exaggerated. 

After I had seen the movie, KitKat and I were back on the pickleball court playing a fierce game of singles when the same aforementioned gentleman, who was on the adjacent court giving his partner another “lesson” approached us, offering a neon yellow pickleball. “You’re playing with an indoor ball,” he told us. “This is an outdoor ball. Try it, it will work better.” 

Now, Dear Readers, KitKat and I were playing with an outdoor ball. Sure, it was a different brand and a different color, but I had previously confirmed that it was an outdoor ball, and we had been playing happily and successfully with it for weeks. 

So, I told Mansplaining Pickleball Guy that the ball we were using was, in fact, an outdoor ball. He took it from me, regarded it skeptically, bounced it, then bounced his ball, and handed me both balls. “Just try this one,” he said dismissively, “I think you’ll find it’s better.” Then he walked away to continue his lesson with his friend/girlfriend/wife. KitKat and I looked at each other: “WTF was that?” We shrugged and then played one game with the new ball. Afterward, we went back to our original ball just to make a point. 

Back to life off the court… I knew my daughter Lucky would enjoy The Barbie Movie, so I invited her for a lunch date. There were so many layers to the film that I was happy to see it a second time. As predicted, she loved the movie as entertainment—Lucky was a film major in college, so she really appreciated the various techniques, set design, costuming, etc., that went into the production. (It IS a visually stunning movie, even for those of us without a film degree.)

Nobody puts Stormy in a box!

Afterward, Lucky and I were eating vegan burgers and dissecting the plot. Both my daughters are strong feminists, and Lucky’s feeling was that it was a little too soft on our patriarchal society (because the Ken’s in the film were made to be kind of lovable and goofy). Her criticism is that a lot of misogyny is really evil at its root—a calculated effort to control women. But as someone who has seen improvements over the past 50-something years, I think it’s more complex than that. I believe our society is still deeply patriarchal, but that much of it stems from tradition and ignorance vs. maliciousness. Don’t get me wrong, misogynistic maliciousness absolutely exists and is running rampant within our politics at present; still, I like to think that people always have the capacity for change and growth.

At our next PB game, I shared Lucky’s “review” with KitKat, who brought up that the Ken characters were being true to Ken’s nature as an accessory in Barbie’s life, which I thought was also an astute observation. Anyway, if you haven’t seen the movie, I’ve given away nothing of the plot, so please go see it and let me know what you think. 

Meanwhile, I want to circle back to my earlier assessment of how many men think the patriarchy is GREATLY exaggerated in the movie, while other men and most women realize it’s only SLIGHTLY exaggerated and wrap up this discussion with my analysis of Mansplaining Pickleball Guy: 

Do I believe this man had ill intent in approaching us with his wrongful perception that we were using an indoor ball to play outside? No. Do I think he was trying to be “helpful”? Yes. Did KitKat and I feel compelled to at least “try” his ball? Yes. Did I go home and re-verify that our original ball was an outdoor ball (even though I knew it was), because his surety made me doubt my own knowledge? Yes. (I am embarrassed to confess that I literally counted the 40 holes.) 

But here’s the most important question: Would Mansplaining Pickleball Guy EVER have approached two 50-something-year-old MEN playing a competitive game of singles to correct them on their ball choice? And furthermore, assume they were using an incorrect ball from a distance of 50 feet away? The answer is NEVER, EVER, EVER. And if you think otherwise, you’re lying to yourself. 

I’m grateful to Greta Gerwig, Margot Robbie, Ryan Gosling and the rest of the cast and production crew for The Barbie Movie for bringing this story to life in such an entertaining way, while giving all of us something to think about—and more importantly, something to work toward. 

In a pickle (again)… The net gains and losses of an addictive new hobby

On By StormyIn Entertaining/leisure, Health/fitness, HobbiesLeave a comment

“Oskar isn’t going to let you play with me anymore if you keep getting injured!” KitKat cried in dismay. I was holding my lower back—which I had seriously strained while going after one of her killer shots—and wincing in pain. I wobbled over to the benches courtside and slowly lowered my spasming back into a resting position. How did we get here?!

For the last few years, I’ve watched the meteoric rise of pickleball as a hobby. I saw tennis courts being converted to pickleball courts and listened to various friends and acquaintances talk about the joys of the sport… My interest was piqued, but I kept thinking, that’s for “old people,” right?

Still, I was intrigued. I had always wanted to become good at tennis because it’s a sport you can supposedly play into old age. In fact, KitKat and I took tennis lessons together in 2012 with the hope that we could play regularly. However, we both kinda sucked at it and were never able to reinforce what we had learned. That was the trouble with tennis, from my perspective: Finding someone to play with at the right level of play. If two people suck at tennis, the ball never makes it into play. If one is good and the other is bad, it’s a humiliating defeat. And it was clear to me that Oskar, with his PD would never be able to play me. Which brought me back to pickleball. I knew all sorts of people that played or wanted to learn—and everything I read about the “sport” reinforced that it was “easy to learn.” Heck, KitKat’s daughter even played pickleball in phy ed class, so maybe it wasn’t just for old people. 

At Christmas, Oskar surprised me by gifting me a pickleball set of two paddles, plus balls. Now, I really had no excuse. When I mentioned this to KitKat (full of New Year’s ambition) she pounced on it. “Let’s take lessons! I know a place!” A few clicks and texts later, we were signed up for semi-private lessons with a pro at a local indoor pickleball club on the north end of town. (If uncoordinated me was going to learn a new sport, I wanted the unfortunate soul burdened with that task to be paid for their trouble vs. trying to learn from a friend.)

Surprise. We had a great time! Sure, we sucked, but we were able to understand the rules and play in just one lesson. A big improvement over our multiple tennis lessons that left us more frustrated than inspired. As our instructor explained, pickleball is easy to learn, but hard to master…as a result, it’s quite addictive. And we also found it to be a surprisingly good workout. 

While I am now a staunch believer in exercise to maintain one’s health, I will confess that my typical routines don’t involve a whole lot of cardio, and pickleball involves enough movement to check that box. Also, as became apparent in the days following our lesson, pickleball also utilizes a broad set of muscles that weren’t seeing much action during my daily walks, weightlifting, Pilates or Peloton rides (refer back to the earlier “injury” that opened this story). Truth be told, I don’t exercise as often as I should during the winter (when the desire to “hibernate” takes over), so the fact that pickleball is both FUN and social was a big part of its allure. 

Ironically (prophetically?), there was a whiskey distillery next door to the pickleball club. It all seemed like divine intervention. This was meant to be. We each had a very expensive Manhattan and brainstormed how we could keep the good vibes going closer to home. 

As luck would have it, an indoor park just one block from my home has two pickleball courts available for early morning play. So for the past 5 weeks, we’ve been hitting the court for a weekly game or three. Up until last Thursday, we were fortunate enough that nobody else had reservations—meaning there was nobody to witness how bad we are. But this time an older (and likely more experienced) couple came to play alongside us. 

This would require some player modification om my part, as I tend to swear a lot—and loudly—whenever I miss a shot (which is frequently). This lucky couple arrived in time to watch me wipe out while going after a shot during our first game. However, I was pleased to find that I didn’t break or sprain my wrist despite landing on it (unlike when I broke my arm two years ago while skating with KitKat—the genesis of her comment about me getting hurt whenever we go out to do something ambitious). I’m guessing I probably made the older folks feel pretty good about themselves when I hobbled off the court and abandoned the game. 

The truth is, I can be oddly competitive about certain things, and KitKat is an infuriating person to play against. I know that she doesn’t have great control of the ball just yet, but she still manages to hit to the far reaches of the court more often than not, which is why I keep diving for shots I can’t make and injuring myself in the process!

Of course, KitKat has a slight competitive advantage—she’s been getting in additional lessons and games between our weekly sessions. A true convert, she’s indoctrinated her sisters, husband and friends, introducing them to The Dark Side and the addictiveness of a well-placed shot. Come to think of it, she’d make a great cult leader. 

I’m planning on widening my circle of competitors once the weather improves and there are outside court options that don’t require 7:45 a.m. reservations. Unlike tennis, I think pickleball is something that Oskar could play…maybe not competitively though.  I’m also planning to drag my sister along to lessons. My goal is to be able to intentionally do what KitKat achieves with a good dose of luck—and whoop her smarmy ass. 

I’m already start to heal from last week’s pulled muscle and a conveniently timed snowstorm is giving me a bye for the week, so chances are good I’ll be back in play next Thursday—although this time I will remember to stretch more thoroughly…proving once again that you CAN teach an old Stormy new tricks.