Doing the unordinary can be extraordinary

Its the summer and that means my wife and daughter run off to Cincinnati for about 12 days of tennis.
I tagged along this time for about four days with my mom. She went with us to the tennis grounds on Monday to watch an aging Andy Murray and Stanislas Wawrinka go three sets into a tie breaker.
I'm a huge Andy Murray fan, but it was hard to watch these two pros in the sunset of their respective careers trudge around the court hitting from the baseline and trying to outlast each other.
Mom sat patiently and we had a corner seat so there wasn't the back and forth that requires some acetominophen and a massage afterward.
The night before she came out to watch some girls tennis and doubles action. After about five minutes on the Grandstand court in Mason, Ohio, the rain came. We stayed in the stands during the light rain, but when came next was organized chaos - and mom really enjoyed it.
Twenty four kids and a couple supervisors took 20 minutes to completely dry a hard court. Kids with towels, long handled rollers, mops and a couple 45 hp blower fans on wheels went to work.
One of my favorite screenwriters is Aaron Sorkin and he wrote, "There's order and even great beauty in what looks like total chaos."
These kids were rolling water into each other and the motorized fans were blowing water in different directions contrary to any scientific theory on energy and breaking up molecules. Kids were mopping with soaking wet mops and wiping down lines with wet towels.
But science won out. It wasn't about moving the water away from the court, it was about thinning it out and letting the air finish it off. These guys are good.
Mom, Lee and Taylor sat in their clear poncho's watching and smiling at these kids working their tails off to quickly get the court ready for play. I didn't put my poncho on because I was enjoying the light rain.
As the kids just about finished getting the last shadows of moisture off the blue surface, sprinkles threatened again. Several of the kids looked to the skies with their hands up. Lee looked back at me and told me to put my poncho on because I was jinxing the whole thing.
I laughed and refused. Play resumed for one game as the match was just about complete before the rain came down. Mom doesn't understand tennis scoring and was like, "Wait...that's it?!" And unless you're a tennis geek, most of us don't really get tennis scoring either - don't even try tiebreakers.
All-in-all our readership gets kind of a break from the ramblings of local news and opinion while we're off and Cincinnati is a relatively quick trip.
Mom and I watched the Reds beat up on the Cubs (a bit of a rarity this year). It was only the second time she'd been to a major league baseball park. We hit a couple casinos and won some money betting the ponies, but the real win was getting her out of the house and experiencing things she hadn't done since her husband passed away.
The drive home was about four hours of geneology and a cleaner look of my life as child prior to when my memory banks became active. I understand things a little clearer now. I think that was important to her. It was important to me.
I've become keenly aware as I get older (and my body tells me I'm getting older) that it's the time we spend doing the unordinary that makes things extraordinary. Stretches of time that create family memories become more important the older we get.
So when you get the chance, just take it - but that's Beside the Point.
Chuck Vandenberg is editor and co-owner of Pen City Current and can be reached at charles.v@pencitycurrent.com