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OK, so the Twitter reference was a canard. Most of you knew that. Some of you other cue balls, as in sharp as a, were wondering if I meant it. No. I’ve already partially bought in to that Facebook bullshit and that is as far as I’m going.
Since you’re not getting tweets every twenty minutes or so, I’ll catch you up on all the dull facets of my existence. We spent a few days in Sacramento last week. Sonny boy one was rowing with his college team at the IRA championship.
http://www.row2k.com/ira/
Yes, he is a big time college athlete, just like his old man. Back in my Binghamton days, I was recruited by The Cincinnati Kids to play on their hoops team. They had just taken the intramural championship and needed to reload after losing a couple seniors. They poached me from a team called Head. I didn’t ask about the origin of that name. I didn’t want to know. In any case, Head faced off against The Kids in the first round of the playoffs. As usual, I rebounded so I could pass off to the point guard, who would take it down the court and engage in a one on five match every time. Can you say gunner? Oh, the bitterness shines through 30 years hence. In any case, I impressed the The Kids and played for their squad the following year. The fact that we went down in the first round of playoffs that year was not solely my responsibility.
What does this have to do with my stay in Sacramento? Not a great deal. However, I was able to meet up with an old friend of mine, Double R. He’s only received two previous mentions in this blog, which is about what he deserves. Speaking of hoops, he was one of my nemeses in the paint. The boy had one of the ugliest jump shots going, and just to piss you off, it went in a lot. We had a panel come in to observe one night, including professors of mechanical engineering and kinesiology from a local university. They left nonplussed, as they could not determine how he scored either.
So we visited Double R and his family. He put together some fine chicken piccata but getting a drink from the guy is like pulling teeth. He pours me a glass of white wine and then sits down with a margarita. Is that right? So I gotta prod him to offer me a real drink. Kind of like I invited myself over to his house. We reminisced a bit. He probably made his standard crack about seeing me wandering about SF, with my Muni fast pass in my pocket. I could get anywhere for $30 a month. Once I passed on the bus and took a ride on his motorcycle. It was nine blocks of terror in The Sunset. Vicente to Noriega, the hard way.
It was good to see my old bud and his family. They’re doing well up there and I’m sure we’ll visit again. However, if he wants any more ink, he’ll save the white wine for the ladies. And in the interest of full disclosure, the guy’s a hugger.
Since you’re not getting tweets every twenty minutes or so, I’ll catch you up on all the dull facets of my existence. We spent a few days in Sacramento last week. Sonny boy one was rowing with his college team at the IRA championship.
http://www.row2k.com/ira/
Yes, he is a big time college athlete, just like his old man. Back in my Binghamton days, I was recruited by The Cincinnati Kids to play on their hoops team. They had just taken the intramural championship and needed to reload after losing a couple seniors. They poached me from a team called Head. I didn’t ask about the origin of that name. I didn’t want to know. In any case, Head faced off against The Kids in the first round of the playoffs. As usual, I rebounded so I could pass off to the point guard, who would take it down the court and engage in a one on five match every time. Can you say gunner? Oh, the bitterness shines through 30 years hence. In any case, I impressed the The Kids and played for their squad the following year. The fact that we went down in the first round of playoffs that year was not solely my responsibility.
What does this have to do with my stay in Sacramento? Not a great deal. However, I was able to meet up with an old friend of mine, Double R. He’s only received two previous mentions in this blog, which is about what he deserves. Speaking of hoops, he was one of my nemeses in the paint. The boy had one of the ugliest jump shots going, and just to piss you off, it went in a lot. We had a panel come in to observe one night, including professors of mechanical engineering and kinesiology from a local university. They left nonplussed, as they could not determine how he scored either.
So we visited Double R and his family. He put together some fine chicken piccata but getting a drink from the guy is like pulling teeth. He pours me a glass of white wine and then sits down with a margarita. Is that right? So I gotta prod him to offer me a real drink. Kind of like I invited myself over to his house. We reminisced a bit. He probably made his standard crack about seeing me wandering about SF, with my Muni fast pass in my pocket. I could get anywhere for $30 a month. Once I passed on the bus and took a ride on his motorcycle. It was nine blocks of terror in The Sunset. Vicente to Noriega, the hard way.
It was good to see my old bud and his family. They’re doing well up there and I’m sure we’ll visit again. However, if he wants any more ink, he’ll save the white wine for the ladies. And in the interest of full disclosure, the guy’s a hugger.
posted by DJ @ 3:47 PM
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