Monday, February 7, 2011

I understand they played a game...

Ramblings Post #170
It is one those American Unofficial Holidays. A day when people gather to watch grown men play game. It is moment of joy to millions, frustration to millions, and a few great commercials to the vast majority of us. Who was I rooting for? Well let's just say, to have the Steelers win on my field would have hurt more than you know.

Last year, around kickoff of the Superbowl, I got a call from a friend with bad news. The game was really more of an afterthought at that point.

Well, technically, the game is usually an afterthought, as I attend most Superbowl parties for the party part of the festivities - the people, the drinks, etc. And since I started school, I haven't been getting out much due to maturity, responsibility and studying. So this year, when my RP hit me up and gave me directions to a little function around the corner from my house, I was ready to go.

You ever go someplace, a little confused and lost, then upon arrival you see a few familiar faces and everything is okay? That's how it was. The directions looked funny, but when I walked in it turned out I knew these guys, they had just moved. And upgraded.

I often thought what I have is a big TV. Well, I walked down stairs to the main party room, and these guys have what is at least a 100 inch HD projection screen TV. It took up the whole wall. The picture was crisp, the players on the field bigger than life sized. That said, I didn't know until today that the Steeler QB threw three interceptions, or that somebody missed a field goal, or that somebody fumbled. It apparently was a very good game.

Now that's a big TV
(Faces blurred because I don't where they claimed they was)

I did meet the bartender's mother. Very nice lady, from Ohio, worked with the Department of Defense. I ran into Slim, who I hadn't seen in a minute and who now wants me to go swimming with her to tone out my thinner frame. I met a lady who drives the pink Cadillac that the good folks at Mary Kay gave her. I got mistaken for the owner of the house (a common party occurrence). I ran into about twenty people that I hadn't seen in ages, including three or four I had to greet with a "hey!" because I don't ever remember getting their name the first time I met them years ago.

Then, as the third quarter came to least I think it was the third quarter, I remembered that had I promised Spanky that I would ride by her Superbowl party for a hot minute.

Spanky's party
(Faces not blurred, because some people might need alibis)

A few minutes later, I pulled at Spanky's There are a number of adjectives I could use here, but I'm going to say house. The difference between it and house I'd just left was roughly the difference between a private jet and a bi-plane. A very nice bi-plane - hardwoods, Ikea'd out, cozy, good bones - but still a bi-plane. Or at least that's how it felt. I saw a few more folks I hadn't seen in a while, and did get to see the end of the game.

Apparently there is a video of them playing the Micheal Jackson Experience on the Wii at halftime that a lot of hush money is going around to keep out of the public eye. If anyone out there can get their hands on it, I can reward you with $4, a copy of CD it think I got out of gift bag some years ago, and two old copies of Creative Loafing if I haven't thrown them all out.

Two sides of the coin. One party lavish, one homey. My folks at both. You could say I am, and by extension my people, are a little hard to pin down. And you'd be right.

After Spanky turned MJ back on as soon as the clock on the field hit zero and the coach got hit with the orange stuff, I wisely slipped out the back and made my way home. I knew I had work in the morning, partially because I'm dedicated like that...and partially because Hugo claimed he just happened to be having "something" delivered on Monday and wouldn't be in.

Barkeep. The stadium looked great. The 'boys house looked good. A quick one, I got to get back at them books.

I leave on this photo. Six months ago this guy was locked up. Yesterday, just like the former President, he sat in a box at the Superbowl. What a country.

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