Filed under: Uncategorized
Alright, she went and did it. She created her own blog. And whether it was to spite me and my lack of writing or not, I’m glad the old lady finally has her own outlet. It’s so cute. Right now she’s at that stage where she creams her pants every time she gets a comment and declares how much of a hit she is. It doesn’t hurt that she is funny. You should check it out at 12 Minute Miler when you get a chance. Like the next time you come to this blog and find it hasn’t been updated. Again.
I’m not taking credit for originality with this post. This weekend as Wifey-poo and I were driving to Cedar Rapids for our anniversary, were were listening to an episode of This American Life on one of our TWO iPods (yes, two. She needed one for herself. Mine was too heavy or too white. So I had to blow 300 bucks to get her a new nano with all the bells and whistles for the anniversary) and listened to David Sedaris talk about how he sought familiarity when he first moved to France.
I’m not talking familiarity like the restaurant down the street that sells meatloaf just like mom’s. I’m talking the bar where everybody knows your name. And I realized I do the same thing, and that’s why I like living in the big IF.
For the first time since high school, I walk into Kum and Go and they know what I want. Back then, I would stretch a five dollar bill for $2.14 in gas, a bag of chips and two bottles of Surge. Now its $27.14 on pump No. 3 (of course), a bag of peanut M&M’s and a pack of Marlboro Menthol Ultralights. But the point is, they know what I want.
It makes you feel good. Sure, maybe its the fact that my hair won’t sit down flat anymore due to the increasingly deep dent in my head. Maybe its the baby blue Buick with paint almost completely peeled off the hood. Or maybe its the chinstrap beard that makes me memorable. Any of those are acceptable, as long as they keep making me feel like a regular.
Its the same deal with my barber. Yes, I have a barber in IF. Larry. He gives shitty haircuts, but he knows me and I’m over my vanity stage. He talks to me about what I have written in the sports section in the last week. We gossip about those little hippies that need to get their mops lopped off.
This is also why the ball and chain and I both enjoy our favorite eatery in IF. It doesn’t hurt that Clark and Addison has the best food in town, decent wine and a Cubs motîf, but the fact is, we like the owners and they know us. They once went out of their way on a visit to Ames to pick up the makings for mojitos, Sara’s favorite drink, just because they knew we would be in the next night. You can’t get fresh mint in IF on a daily basis, you know. So they take care of us, and we tip them too much.
One last thing I want to share before I sign off for who knows how long this time. The IF football team won on Friday night. Its the first time I’ve witnessed a Cadet football win since working here. Actually, its the first time I’ve witnessed a Cadet football win since I was a sophomore in high school and Matt Stockdale walked all over the Union Knights on a snowy October Friday.
An assistant coach for another team in our coverage area came up to me on Monday and (sarcastically) complimented me on my level of professionalism at the game. I guess he and the coaching staff for this other team were watching game film in preparation for this Friday’s inter-county battle and noticed my not-so-subtle antics on the sideline. You know, yelling at the ref’s about their mother’s whorish nature, turning and begging the crowd to get off its ass on a critical fourth down and then jumping up and down when IF scored the winning touchdown.
I’m a homer. And I’m OK with that.
Below is the only reason I think having a kid would be fun. At the same time, If anyone knows where I can get a spider outfit for my cat, Tarantula, that would be more fun altogether on Halloween.
