Yesterday, on (one of) the biggest shopping days of the year, I went… shopping. Insane, I know. Oddly enough, it was not a disaster. After an hour or so the headache that usually develops (when I have to make so many decisions over prices and items of clothing and so forth) began to approach, but that was largely due to the barrage of Christmas Carols. I eventually found a way to see the humour in just how dreadful some of the treatments of various songs can be, and that kept me going a bit longer. The Mel Torme (“the velvet fog”) version of “Chestnuts Roasting on an…” (whatever it’s really called) has sunken to a new unanticipated low by having had a strangely irrelevant and mood-altering backbeat added to it for part of the song. I heard this in the Gap, which meant that I left rather hurriedly without buying anything because I was laughing too much. After three hours of this sort of activity in several stores, I came away with essentially one item. One. Sigh.
Anyway, where was I going with this? Well, nowhere in particular, but I thought I’d share my lunch scene with you. I was at Santa Monica for the shopping you see, and part of my agenda was to make the shopping bearable by having a late lunch down at the beach.
I’d packed a sandwich, brought a book and an apple, and everything. On my way, I stopped at a store I regularly stop at to get the best deal in Santa Monica – the aforementioned simple jam tarts. A dollar apiece. I got two. Dessert, you see. They packed them into the usual pink box, and after getting a cup of coffee next door I wandered down to the pier, past the pier, and walked toward the area where all the chess tables are set up. Chess players were there, including many of the regulars I’ve seen at table before. I really love the idea of public chess areas in cities, where people can gather and engage in something that is primarily about thinking, first and foremost. There are lots of tables out with chess boards marked on them, and it is in a prime spot just off the “boardwalk”.
I approached with my pink box in one had, and it occurred to me as I did so that I might have appeared to be another chess player. The box was about the right size to hold a (medium-sized) chess set, but would a chess set be in a box of such an unashamedly unabashedly pink colour? Well, this is LA after all – why not?
Well, if anyone did think this, they kept it to themselves and carried on watching the games, several of which were at rather exciting points. I stood there for a little bit, enjoying watching the games and watching the people watching the games, and found myself wondering what I’d say if anyone asked me if I wanted to play a game. I decided that I would simply affect a distant sorrowful look in my eyes for a moment (through the sunglasses), and then shake my head sadly and walk away, like a retired legendary gunfighter who’d sworn off his six-shooters after that regrettable incident involving the outlaw gang known as the Slaughterhouse Seven (now all dead – from six quick bullets from his left gun), teatime at the big hotel saloon/lounge in that town to which he will not return, and that beautiful woman he loved so much who broke his heart…
But nobody asked me.
(Uh… for the record, I used to play chess many years ago at a decent but not spectacular level, and I did hang up my metaphorical pistols and walk away from it, but there were no dramatic circumstances involving showdowns with outlaws, or beautiful women, and so forth. Well, not connected with chess, anyway…)
Here’s something I wonder about public chess parks, and I imagine that some of you might be able to enlighten me on this point. Are the players actually any good? Ever since my New York days, where I would stop and watch play in 
Washington Square park (but only briefly because people would immediately ask me to play a game), I wondered this. I’d wander off wondering what would have happened if I’d played. Would I have been slaughtered in a few moves? How long would I have lasted? These guys are playing chess all the time, maybe even making some money from it under the table. What chance would I have, and with all those people watching too…. It was only a while later that I began to entertain the possibility that maybe they were just pretty average players. Maybe even pretty crappy. I suspect that they are good though. Anyone know (perhaps you’re a park player)? I’d never stuck around to watch a game long enough to find out just how good these guys get.
Anyway, I was hungry, and much more interested in what happened to Mr. Honda after the river crossing into Outer Mongolia, and so went off to eat my sandwich and the tarts, and dip into the book to find out (Haruki Murakami’s wonderful The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, in case you’re wondering). The warm, low, late afternoon sun was very pleasant indeed.
-cvj
P.S.
To answer the question you posed,” Are the players actually any good?” “Good” is a relative term. It most certainly depends upon your objective. Are you playing to win or lose? To be entertained by the company or meditative in the silence? Or simply to commune with the Universe under the glowing warmth of the setting sun? I would say that with an open mind to the end result you are seeking, “Yes, they are all ‘good’ in a relative sense”.
Most importantly though, next time skip the shopping on any Friday after Thanksgiving and go straight to the beach.
Ciao
Fantastic imagery and great joy to know good natured and deep thinking people are playing chess outside on a boardwalk in the warmth of the setting sun.
The colour pink has some sad history behind it. ( A muse to ponder in your absolutely funny story, weaving time and space in a beautiful web of sorrow and joy)
In years long past, pink was the colour for baby boys ( representing the softer version of red, the colour of valor and strength worn by men in battle) Light Blue was the colour for baby girls(representing the softer version of Blue in the robe of the Blessed Virgin Mary. But very sadly, during the war of Hitler, when he placed all the men into segregated concentration camps, those he marked for death were marked with pink ribbons over their cells or in other visable locations to be noted by those who would take the prisoners to the chambers. When the war ended, it was a conscious decision of many to change the colour orientation for girls and boys, to lessen the sadness that pink represented in the loss of innocent lives of great men, women and children.
So, the next time you find yourself carrying a pink box of tarts ( or Chess pawns), carry it proudly for the memory of those who suffered long and sorrowful grief. And remember that in the same time and space, grew the immeasurable power and influence of two men in the same place. One who perpetrated unspeakable suffering and another who raised conscious inspiration to reach beyond suffering to a greater joy and common good than can ever be measured by man. Our great friend; A. Einstein
Peace in the new day ~
-kks
Thanks, Clifford. I promise to keep mum and not spoil the secret!
I like a good game of blitz and when last in New York decided to head over to washington square to get a game. I was told people only played for 5 dollars a game. I thought what the hell; the first two games were incredibely close with me just missing out on a win. Then I realised I only had a couple dollars left in cash and told the guy. He checked I really only had the two left and agreed to play anyway for the two dollars. I was now utterly utterly devastated with only 30 seconds off my opponents clock. Upon later reflection I was being well hussled. The Washington square guys are good. In Harvard square there is a similar set up but I was much more successful; those guys are, I’d say, standard club level. In Park de Luxemborg, Paris they have good club standard and in Geneva park enthusastically bad club standard (lots of cocky russians). Most intersting public chess cafe with players rated from international master to bloke ordinaire is “Le Greenwich” in Brussels; can always get a good level of game there.
One of my favorite Simpsons jokes is where a woman says at a public chess area “my God, that little boy is playing three games at once!” (Bart, of course.) The next second you see the three opponents saying “checkmate!” “checkmate!” “checkmate!” in a row. Hehehehe…
My own personal chess story- my mom taught me and my twin brother to play when we were perhaps 4 or 5 years old (um, mom?) and we both played competitively until 8th grade. My brother was quite talented, went to state-level championships and everything, but I wasn’t anywhere near that level. I was always forever drawing or losing because I’d just think “wow, that’s an awesome solution!” even if it didn’t involve me winning. 🙂
I will note though that those chess tournaments in my youth were probably a great contribution to me later shrugging off the consequences of being in male-dominated physics. Only 10% of chess players are girls, and I can’t recall ever playing another girl in competition! And I always appreciated getting the “top female” ribbon in tournaments even if I didn’t place…
Hmmm…… not sure I should be telling too many people. If it gets too popular, it’ll vanish pretty soon. But I’d feel selfish if I did not. Guard the knowledge carefully. Second and Santa Monica. Look here for a picture.
By the way, don’t believe the cliché: This town is far from being as “non-intellectual” as is often claimed. It is just that all the other stuff is sort of in your face all the time, but the good stuff is there too. You have to dig a little deeper and spread the net a little wider as everything is all spread out and/or hidden. Sort of like these tarts. You can pay $2 – $3 for a highly indifferent scone at the Coffee Bean right next door to the place I pointed you to, or get a really good $1.50 one instead. But almost nobody knows…..
Best,
-cvj
I’ve been down to that chess park a few times; it’s quite fun. I was very surprised when I first came upon it. As you say, it’s a primo spot right on the “boardwalk” next to the pier. It’s great that there is a nice intellectual recreational area in such an otherwise non-intellectual town! Unfortunately, I don’t really have the chops to play with those guys, but it’s fun to watch.
BTW, where did you get those jam tarts? It’s always good to know where one can pick up a nice inexpensive snack.
Mel Torme’s song (which he also wrote) is called “The Christmas Song.”
Chess is popular at my high school, but no one is any good at it. Kids check out the chess boards from me and play at lunch in the library. But since the best chess player was expelled for posting threats on a Myspace page, the emphasis has switched to “Magic.” My son is the best chess player at his school, which, as he puts it, isn’t saying much, but at least they’re finally getting a chess club. He refused to continue with my chess lessons after the first one because he declared me to be hopeless. Probably so.
They come in all strengths. The better ones would slaughter you, but probably not in a “few moves”. There will be a few players who make a living hustling chess and they will be there all the time.
when I was a senior I was the 1st board of a high school chess team that took the New Mexico state team championship for the 1976-77 school year. Another future physicist, Steve Elliott, a junior at the time, was 2nd board.
Since that time, I’ve hung around a mall which contains a giant chess board, but I do not play. I find that when I do, it is as intense as when I was 18. The sweat pools under my arms and my attention is directed entirely to analyzing how I can defeat this idiot. It’s a combination of being too old and too competitive that prevents me from playing chess. I get the same effect when playing “rated” games against Fritz, my computer chess program.