Randomness pt. 2

Work, government holidays and other stuff have made for a rather busy past week for yours truly. Nothing too bad, but enough that I've not posted for a week. I'm sure that others, say POTUS, would argue they've had even less time for this sort of thing of late than me. But pissing matches don't really suit me. And it probably would be in my best interest not to enter into one with someone who could remove all traces of my existence with the snap of his finger. Apparently, he has a very powerful snap. But if I were going to get into such a contest with him over something, it probably wouldn't be over who is the bigger time-waster. Nevertheless, I'm going to stay in training.

To wit:

1.) A lady called this morning and wasting no time with formalities or particulars asked me the phone number for Statesboro. Not Statesboro police department. Not Statesboro bait & tackle. Just "what the number for Statesboro." Maybe they have a phone in the town square to take random calls; I wouldn't know since I've been to Statesboro, which is about 2 hours away from here, exactly once in my life. Nevertheless, because I'm the helpful sort, I suggested she call 411 and just ask for Statesboro. Undeterred, she then asked when her brother was to be released from jail. In a town about an hour from here. In another county. That I'm pretty sure doesn't have a jail. I then decided she terribly confused. Or drunk.

2.) Walking to get Marisol's morning libation (Gatorade fruit punch), I observed a gent pick up a still-smoldering ciggie from a newspaper dispenser. Figuring why waste a good smoke, he walked off, puffing away. His enthusiasm was as contagious as his cough. I understand from reliable sources that the pull of nicotine is rather strong. I know all too well that some bastards somewhere--govt., big tobacco, Hollywood--have just about priced the common folk out of the habit altogether. This leaves only club-hopping, trust fund hipsters and old, rich people with nothing much to live for anyway as the remaining customers for cancer-sticks. I guess those caught somewhere in between, like this dude, have to be thankful for the castoffs of strangers.

3.) Last year at halftime of the Ga Tech-Jacksonville State game, the Jacksonville State band did a sort of bizarre tribute to Mother Russia. Giving the dancers hammer and sickle flags to boogaloo with, the band played the works of various Russian composers and told of the Oktober Revolution in the only way fitting: song. They left out all the mass killings and such though. Reaction in the stands was pretty evenly divided between confusion and anger. This was, after all, a football game in the south, not Cal-Berkeley. I'm sure I would have had a similar reaction had I not been at the concession stand getting a hot dog. Though I suspect my reaction would have been tinged with laughter upon hearing numerous upstanding, God-fearing men yell out, "What the hell is this commie shit?"

Afterwards, the commie band director in question offered one of the more amusing non-apologies I've heard, saying essentially, "It's not my fault you uncultured rubes can't appreciate high culture like we Alabamans can. But hey, whatever, sorry." Tech fans, I do believe we just got served.

Making no such mistake this year, the Jacksonville State band marched triumphantly back into halftime with a patriotic display that even Sam the All-American Eagle from the The Muppets would have found over the top. Nothing but red, white and blue, old glory and nothing more left wing than a few selection from Mr. John Phillip Sousa. It all seemed to be that most American of symbols: the middle finger. All right you boors, you want patriotism then, by gum, here it is. Enjoy the perty dancing girls as you choke on this; we're going back to Alabama.

Who knew football could be so boorish?