What ever happened to predictability?
Sunday, November 27, 2005
So I realize that it has been a long time since I have made a sincere post to this blog, and it's only being compounded by the fact that the basketball posts are starting to overpower the blog. In retrospect, I should have created a separate blog for the basketball news. I'll look into it this week when I have time. But to be honest, I've been traveling for work and vacation the past two weeks, and I'm actually being given some work to do when I go to, well, work. Amazing concept! So I will do what I can when I can. Let's start by talking about this weekend.I went back to Kentucky for the Thanksgiving holiday and got to see the parents, Shannon, and the boys. It had been about 4 months since I had seen any of my family, so it was a pretty awesome trip. All are well. Shannon and John ran a 5-miler on Thanksgiving morning so Mom and I were stuck watching Josh and Drew. Drew is 51" tall and Josh is 41" tall. They are 5 and 3 years old, respectively. I'm envisioning a "Cannon All-Star Basketball Team" in about 15 years. Mom and Dad seem to be doing well. It really hit me that they both need new cars, and now. I think between their two cars they have ove 440,000 miles and 24 years of age. Yikes.
There were only two low points of the trip. First, I was sick. Slight case of brochitis-slash-ear infection. Second, I went to visit my Grandma. Visiting Grandma is usually good, but this time it was in a hospital. I just really don't like going to hospitals. I think it's the constant reminder of death associated with them. Grandma's fine, just had some chest congestion, and they even released her the afternoon we visited. I'm still a little worried about her. Unfortunately, the fact is that she's getting old and her body isn't as healthy as it used to be. I just hope I get to visit her at her home when I go back for Christmas.
Once I got back to L.A., it was early to rise Saturday morning and off to the Stanford game. Mel and Bret rode up with me and we met up with the rest of the Place Corps people outside Stanford Stadium. I would just like to point out that these guys don't know how to tailgate. Here are my strikes against them:
- Snooty Beer: Sorry, but when you're tailgating, you don't bring a case of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale. This isn't a Christmas Party, this is football. The idea is to get drunk before the game, and you can't do that easily if you're drinking heavy, flavored beers. Stick to the basics: Miller Lite, Bud Lite, Coors Lite, PBR, Schlitz, etc.
- No Bratwurst: Okay, so maybe this is a midwestern thing, but I swear I have never been to a tailgate that didn't have bratwurst. There is nothing better than a pre-game, beer-battered, grilled-to-perfection bratwurst. Well, maybe a second quarter jumbo sausage... To give you an idea, this tailgate had turkey hot-dogs and turkey burger patties. Tailgate barely redeemed itself by having one package of four ground beef hamburger patties.
I thought I had a strike three, but I think I got so wrapped up in the bratwurst thing that I forgot it. Other than that, the tailgate was good and there was some fun Caps/Beer Pong action. going on. Unfortunately, I couldn't drink much as I was on antibiotics. Probably would have been okay, but I didn't want to chance it.
Random moment of the afternoon was when three guys in green body paint run by our tailgate yelling "Go Notre Dame!" I get to looking at the them and notice it's Moose and Hoover. Those crazy guys. Then Mothball shows up. What the hell? Actually, Mothball showed up several times and even sang to me as I was throwing a football around. I wish I had been drunk, too, because drunk people are even funnier when you're drunk with them.
The game was shitty. That's right, I said shitty. I'm glad the team finally showed up in the last two minutes. Numbers-wise, we were dominating that Stanford team. I didn't give up, though. I did shout several profanities, which shocked my friend Mel (who apparently didn't think I cussed). Honestly, though, being at that game brought back memories of the Davie era, when ND played not to lose. Charlie better kick some sense into this team before the Fiesta Bowl or we're going to get our asses handed to us by OSU.
Okay, time to eat dinner. Holy crap, it's 9:51!
I totally hear you about loved ones getting old. The Moores showed up at Cousin Brad's house in Dalton, GA, for Thanksgiving dinner, only to discover that FIRST Aunt Gloria had been in the hospital for 2 days (probably a stroke) and had just been released that afternoon, and my Uncle Lefty forgot to take his medicines since he was so worried about Aunt Gloria, almost ending himself in the hospital. What a week!
And, hell, ND almost lost. I was at the GA-GT game, which for some reason, wasn't posting other games' scores. Thank God, LB intervened and filled me in! But stupid Tech lost the game after Reggie Ball threw the stupidest interception EVER!!! He lost the game for the Jackets. On the bright side I got to tailgate with my brother, his frat brothers, his girlfriend and her sisters, etc, etc. We didn't have bratwurst, but we did have deep-fried turkey and homemade poundcake and a keg of Bud Lite. Mmmmmmm-MM!! I'll pass on the brats for deep fried turkey, as I am still suffering from my efforts at the Mal-Jism 73 sausage challenge. 69 sausages to go. sad.
oh! and I saw Dan Crowley, who twirled and dipped me several times, then gave me a ticket to the game. FUN!
hope you kick the cold soon.
-jism
Man, every time I hear the name Dan Crowley it's associated with something either hilarious or awesome. I need to talk to that guy more. If I found out Dan Crowley was in fact the second coming of Jesus, I'd only be mildly surprised.
Jism -
I'm guessing Crowley has learned not to throw you over his shoulder and spin you around. Then again, he is pretty tall and maybe your wee arms don't reach his underwear. Damn you and your wedgies.
AHHH, i remember the wedgie days. giving them, not receiving. it is the only retaliation we ladies have when be carried like that day's kill at the hunt. actually i really don't know why i struggled...it is nice not to have to walk places, though there are probably more dignified ways of getting there. ahh, laziness never wins in the fight against indignity and self-respect. that tag team whoops ass every day and takes names.
and, i would like to make the point that is probably nearly impossible to fit a dude's large hands down the back of my pants. all that junk in my trunk, there just ain't no room. (yeah double negative, but you know what i mean) and i say nearly impossible because mothball has managed to get his hand back there. i attribute this act to extreme uber intoxication. and he failed to wedgify me.
-jism
I don't think he was trying to give you a wedgie....
I don't think I ever knew how to get in contact with Crowley, but every random meeting with him was glorious (including the USC tailgate... hey Crowley, how's it going?)
Mothball doesn't give wedgies.
PS - Nice Full House reference
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