My hair grows

I got a letter last week from a friend. It was a really pleasant surprise despite the fact that I was expecting the letter. I forgot how personal letters are. There's something very flattering about receiving a letter. It's like one person saying to another, "I dedicated some time. There's no mistake, I wrote this for you and you only." I hesitate to describe a letter as intimate because not all letters are love letters, but I feel like it's more appropriate than personal. Anyway, Shelter Island has been heating up. The weather has been hot and humid so this week pool cleaning is going to be awful. Otherwise life has been very easy going, relaxing, and calm. I've actually picked up another part time "job" teaching tennis to the Binder/Dunhill clan. Job is in quotations because I don't really get paid, but it's still fun nonetheless. Lulu and Jojo did hook me up with a private teaching gig for this week teaching a nine year old. I taught him for the first time yesterday and I have to admit, I was blown away. Connor (I think his name was Connor, maybe Colin) was very impressive skill wise, but also in maturity. I never saw him get upset when he missed a shot, although he didn't miss many. He also knew his mistakes and admitted to them rather than trying to cover them up. Currently I am scheduled to teach this kid today and everyday this week if i can finish pool cleaning early enough. But honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing and I have no idea what else I can possibly teach him. He knows what he's trying to do, he know's what he should do, and he has the ability to do it just about every time. Basically I can only watch him play and tell him what I'm sure he's heard before. But having been on the side of the player ( a very coachable player I might add) I realized that even though I knew that what my coach was telling me was right, I still had a way that I wanted to play. So I'm trying to let this kid develop as his own player and play the kind of style he likes, but at the same time I'd like him to consider the smart way of playing (which also doubles as the boring way of playing).

On to a slightly funnier topic. So before I came out to New York my hair was relatively short and I shaved the day before my flight. A month and a half into summer, I have not cut my hair or shaved, yielding shameful, yet hilarious results.My hair has grown long, not unreasonably long, nothing news worthy. The real gold is with my facial hair. I've grown a nice little mexi-stache and a shamefully thin goatee. And that is all. That's right, in a month and a half I have not even managed to grown a full beard. In fact, facial hair is not even visible in regions other than below my nose and my chin. My inability to grow facial hair is a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse.

Best wishes,
Vinh