Friday, January 11, 2013

I resolve to not resolve

You don't want to see this face.
As the new year has begun, all the talk around the table, any table, and every table I've been around (which are many) is about resolutions and positive changes some of us should make in our lives.  I just learned yesterday for the first time in my 50 years and 11 months of life, my mother doesn't think I'm perfect. Oh, I know you are as astonished as I - well not surprised I'm not perfect, but earth-shatteringly devastated my mother doesn't think I am.

In her defense, and Lord knows why I'd be defending her right now.  She didn't just come right out and say you're not perfect. No. That would just be cruel.  Her words, "well no one is perfect." My response, "I beg your pardon." So, she's enjoying living in the hind quarters of the house. And not because I have her locked up back there. She's just wishing she hadn't produced a child with such prominent canines that sparkle when they are exposed. She's keeping her distance.

Not the group listed over there->, but we're at a table.

Anyway, back to others, who by the way, aren't perfect either. Yeah, she lumped all of you in there - so take it and like it. So as I sat at lunch with Rower Girl, Big Red, Diva and Mr. Capitol Hill last week, there was discussion of giving up drinking from midnight to 7 a.m. Yeah, that's kind of absurd if you ask me, because everyone at that table had a mimosa when they woke up that morning.

We are not giving up Mark Estee. CAMPO, I mean CAMPO.
There was the typical workout promise of not missing more than two consecutive days of exercise.  I won't say who, but that has already been broken - which, by the way, is what resolutions are for - to challenge you and make you feel like a total failure when you prove to no one but yourself - you can't do it.

My personal favorite is that of Big Red's. She has decided it would be a good idea to eliminate a word from her vocabulary, which I find completely admirable. That is a tough thing to do once you are committed to such.  Now mind you, I'm sure you believe there are several words you could give up from your colloquialisms, but the one word, yes only one - not two or three words Big Red is most offended by is "Amazing." Yes, of all the words she knows - okay sorry - that made it sound like she has an extensive lexicon.  Of the words she knows, this is the one she's challenged herself to never utter again.  I kid you not.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Making the Little General blush

Coach and Brandon Wimberly at Hawaii
For whatever reason, Big Red and I have been summoned to Cashell Field House at Nevada's Mackay Stadium upon occasion to displace the Little General's attention from the spherical object he's so obsessed with; and give him a reason he's grateful for his lot in the world of football.

We'd remind him of the really important things other than winning. Like the boosters who travel with the team would appreciate a section on the plane, similar to a smoking section, where cigarettes would not be allowed, however libations mandatory.   We've taken a poll, and the weary travelers all agree such an amenity might help with some of the long trips home after a game that ended like, I don't know -  Notre Dame.

Inspirational speech to Cody Fajardo at Hawaii
With every visit we would regale the coach with stories of the community antics of inappropriate behavior, and report with whom anyone might be cavorting.  As the stories began, he'd shake his head, place it between his hands like a vice, and look down at his desk. Intermittently he'd raise his head with the look of bewilderment on his face - and at that point we'd say, "You didn't hear that from us."  Now coach isn't someone who cares much for gossip, but our job was to try to save the staff from the black cloud that may have been hovering over the field house at the time.

Sometimes we'd whisk him away to lunch where he'd announce his insistence on paying the bill, which is a bigger than life offer.  We know this because when he actually pulled his wallet out, the leather crackled like that of an aged person's arthritic knee when trying to straighten it.  The real shock was the spider crawling from the cobweb like material that had accumulated in the billfold.  I'm sure if he were ever on the pay scale behooving his talent, that wallet would have been so greased it would have landed on the table on its own.

Thanks for keeping the cannon Coach
I must confess I don't really think Coach actually looked forward to our visits, but it took time away from his boisterously vocal and colorful speeches he may have been offering to every staff person within earshot.  As a matter of fact at times he'd walk us down the hall to show us something, and it was oddly always near the exit door.  He would even try to duck into the restroom thinking he could shake us. One time he actually jumped out of his window. No, not really. A long time ago the staff moved the window locks up high so he couldn't actually attempt such a feat.

Everyone has their own opinion of our pistol creating Coach who has, by the way, changed the game forever. But you need to know, beneath his hardcore, crusty exterior - his blush meter is in full working order.  At the end of our last visit, we departed with "Hey Coach, as always, we've got your back............. Oh, and your front."  As he turned on his heel to get the paperwork filled out for the restraining order, his face was so full of blood, that I'm not sure how the remainder of his body functioned.

So I think it's safe to say,  the happiest moments in Coach's life have been his view of our backsides exiting the glass doors of Cashell Field house.  We will forever love Nevada's icon for his incredible sense of humor and his wonderful dedication.