Sunday, February 20, 2005
Racin' and wrestlin'
Hoo boy. This makes two weekends runnin' that I've plumb wasted, when I have history-writin' projects to be workin' on. Still gettin' over that last semester, I reckon.
It WAS a killer, and ol' ER is still just a little bit clabber-headed as a result.
Yesterday was all watchin' a movie with Dr. ER, "The Hound of the Baskervilles," with her favorite Holmes actor Jeremy Brett. Then, we watched Oklahoma State pound the livin' daylights out of Bobby Knight's Texas Tech Red Raiders. Whoa. What a whupping.
Then, Dr. ER headed to Stillwater to have mom-Bird time with Bird on her 19th birthday, while ol' ER drove over to the Tractor Supply to buy some tall socks and then got drawn into a grandmamathon at a local beer join -- I mean, restaurant. Yes.
(This is a variation on the manly tradition of the mamathon, where a bunch of guys get all misty-eyed a drinkin' and start goin' on and on about how much they love-miss their mamas, about how cruel the world is-was to them, but how strong-loyal-perserverical they always are-were).
Came home and sat on the front porch, such as it is, smokin' a stinky stogy and readin' about newspaperin' in the Old West before poopin' out about 9-something.
Now, today. Today is the Highest Holy Day of the NASCAR religion. The Daytona 500. Note the new feature to the left and down a bit on this blog: NASCAR Headlines, courtesy of That's Racin.com, a product of the Charlotte Observer.
Me and Dr. and Bird will start out watchin' the race on Bird's little TV in her dorm room, where ol' ER is fixing to head. But then -- and here's where my fella racin' fans think I've gone plumb batty -- I will stroll across Hall of Fame Avenue in Stillwater and sidle up to Gallagher-Iba Arena to watch Oklahoma State's No. 1 wrestling team put a collective pop-knot on the noggins of a bunch of young men wearin' the wrong colors and hailin' from ou.
What a conflict. My blood is oranger than my neck is red, I reckon, 'cause after really gettin' into wrestling this year, ol' ER can't even imagine bein' in Stillwater when it's goin' on, the Bedlam match especially, and not bein' there, the Daytona 500 notwithstanding.
Confession: Ol' ER has had sad, mixed feelings about Daytona since Dale Earnhardt died there four years ago. And my dislike for all things ou -- something ol' ER came by natural but got exacerbated livin' in Texas -- is pretty powerful fierce.
GO POKES! GO HARVICK! GO JUNIOR!
--ER
It WAS a killer, and ol' ER is still just a little bit clabber-headed as a result.
Yesterday was all watchin' a movie with Dr. ER, "The Hound of the Baskervilles," with her favorite Holmes actor Jeremy Brett. Then, we watched Oklahoma State pound the livin' daylights out of Bobby Knight's Texas Tech Red Raiders. Whoa. What a whupping.
Then, Dr. ER headed to Stillwater to have mom-Bird time with Bird on her 19th birthday, while ol' ER drove over to the Tractor Supply to buy some tall socks and then got drawn into a grandmamathon at a local beer join -- I mean, restaurant. Yes.
(This is a variation on the manly tradition of the mamathon, where a bunch of guys get all misty-eyed a drinkin' and start goin' on and on about how much they love-miss their mamas, about how cruel the world is-was to them, but how strong-loyal-perserverical they always are-were).
Came home and sat on the front porch, such as it is, smokin' a stinky stogy and readin' about newspaperin' in the Old West before poopin' out about 9-something.
Now, today. Today is the Highest Holy Day of the NASCAR religion. The Daytona 500. Note the new feature to the left and down a bit on this blog: NASCAR Headlines, courtesy of That's Racin.com, a product of the Charlotte Observer.
Me and Dr. and Bird will start out watchin' the race on Bird's little TV in her dorm room, where ol' ER is fixing to head. But then -- and here's where my fella racin' fans think I've gone plumb batty -- I will stroll across Hall of Fame Avenue in Stillwater and sidle up to Gallagher-Iba Arena to watch Oklahoma State's No. 1 wrestling team put a collective pop-knot on the noggins of a bunch of young men wearin' the wrong colors and hailin' from ou.
What a conflict. My blood is oranger than my neck is red, I reckon, 'cause after really gettin' into wrestling this year, ol' ER can't even imagine bein' in Stillwater when it's goin' on, the Bedlam match especially, and not bein' there, the Daytona 500 notwithstanding.
Confession: Ol' ER has had sad, mixed feelings about Daytona since Dale Earnhardt died there four years ago. And my dislike for all things ou -- something ol' ER came by natural but got exacerbated livin' in Texas -- is pretty powerful fierce.
GO POKES! GO HARVICK! GO JUNIOR!
--ER
