The Long and Winding Road

Good Lord, it's been an odd and interesting several days. Here is a day-by-day recap that I hope will calm everyone's nerves and answer any questions you may have about why I have not posted since Friday.

Saturday

Saturday morning, I made the trek over to Bloomington for the IU/UConn game. Joining me for the festivities were Holt "The Phone" Hedrick, Morgan "Crazy Legs" Hirst, and Joe "The Original Goni" Malangoni. The game itself was up-and-down, with UConn showing exactly why they are the #1 team in the nation, and IU showing exactly why not having DJ White makes IU a #20-25 team. Anyway, to the left is a shot of Assembly Hall from our seats. Unfortunately my camera phone catches glare like Jenna Jameson catches peen, so it looks a little washed out.

Anyway, that evening started early, probably around 5, at Kilroy's, the bar I frequented most often as an undergrad. Morgan's brother, Christopher (who is an undergrad) joined Morgan and me, while Holt was off getting a haircut and Joe was visiting some relatives in town. By the time they arrived at Kilroy's, Morgan, Christopher, and I had polished off a few pitchers and were ready to kick it into high gear.

Soon after Brian "The Who Bear" Alessandrini joined us at Kilroy's, we all (except Christopher) went to Nick's, which is perhaps the greatest bar in the history of the world, to play some Sink the Bismark (aka, the greatest drinking game in the world). After an uncharacteristically terrible performance at Sink, I was inebriated enough that I cut myself off. Some time before this, JR "Eehoc" Cohee joined us.

I remember parts of the next several hours. Some married chick named Bonnie that Joe used to date (in college) was also in Bloomington visiting a friend that goes to law school (who I think was named Sarah, but may have been named Erin or Emily--for simplicity's sake, we'll call her Troll). Also joining those two ladies was another girl who I think was named Erin or Emily, but may have been named Troll--for simplicity's sake, we'll call her Sarah). I think Sarah was a nanny in Bloomington, which seemed confusing, since she held herself out to be a college graduate.

All three ladies were Republicans. Not that it matters, but for some reason, they made it known, and there were certain points in the evening where they did not display what I would deem "traditional family values." Anywho, apparently Bonnie, who has been married for 2 years, has not quite gotten past whatever relationship she and Joe (who is engaged) may have had 8-9 years ago in college. That will come into play later in this saga.

At some point while we were at Nick's, I found out that Penn State beat Illinois (at Illinois). I welcomed this news with overabundant joy, feeling the need to tell nearly everyone else in Nick's about this wonderful turn of events. I got the sense that not everyone there was as excited about it as I was, but I still think it was important to spread the word.

After Nick's, we all went to the Upstairs Pub and then to the Jungle Room, where Christopher met back up with us. It was becoming more and more clear that Bonnie still wanted Joe and that she had no qualms with the fact that she was married and that he was engaged. Sarah was trying to make her move on Joe, too. Joe, however, was not interested in either one.

So after the Jungle Room, the 10 of us go back to Troll's apartment. Apparently, the ladies' plan was that Joe would come to his senses and decide to throw his engagement out the window. While I drank my water, and everyone else drank beers, the evening began to unravel. Christopher and Cohee had their "what the fuck am I doing here" moments and left. Troll tried to harass Holt, while Bonnie and I were engaged in a classic political discussion involving whether it was possible to support the troops but not support the war (in case you're wondering, it is possible). Morgan and Drini left, with Morgan declaring me "in charge," which I took to mean "make sure Joe isn't raped."

Where were Joe and Sarah, you ask? Well, Joe had gone to the bathroom to urinate. Mid-piss, Sarah walks in, shuts the door and seductively asks, "Do you know why I'm here?" Joe kept on pissing (it burns to stop) and responded with something along the lines of "no." He then explained in so many words that he was engaged and would not be performing any sort of sex act with her or anyone else, including any variation of the golden shower. So then Sarah leaves the bathroom crying. After she stopped crying, she was convinced that Bonnie was going to kick her ass (which obviously would have been fun to watch).

Then Bonnie gets wind of Sarah's meager seduction attempt and decides that one night with Joe is worth ruining her marriage. Joe explained to her that she was a fucking moron, and that whatever they had 8-9 years ago has long been forgotten. So then she starts crying because she realized that her days of riding the Malangoni Bologna Pony were never coming back.

It was at that point that Troll asked us to leave. I have to say, it was a treat watching two Republican women unsuccessfully throw themselves at an engaged Democrat. You may have your precious war and your unconstitutional domestic surveillance, but at least we have our dignity.

When we got back to the hotel room, I was somehow the odd man out, which meant that this was my bed. Awesome.

Sunday

On Sunday, I went up to the Chicagoland area for the Super Bowl party of Jon "J-Diza" Dudek and his girlfriend Tracy, aka "T-Money." Tracy had borrowed a projector from her place of employment, which meant that we got to watch the Super Bowl on about a 15x15 wall:

Thanks in part to the enormity of the screen, I was able to take several concert action photos of the Rolling Stones, making it appear as though I was there, including a nice shot of Mick Jagger flailing about in ways that 62-year-olds should not be allowed to do.
Monday

So on Monday, I dilly-dallied around Chicago. I went into the city and had lunch with a friend, then stopped by my dad's office to say hi. I was on top of the world. After returning to the burbs, I had dinner with my mom and headed out. Or so I thought.

Not too long after I left, my lovely '91 Accord, Rhonda, started acting strangely. Dashboard lights that I had never seen before were flashing. Long story short, a radiator hose had either burst or come loose. And just a couple miles before the 196,000-mile mark, no less. Rhonda can be a cold-hearted bitch sometimes. So I had to get her towed and I wasn't able to leave until Tuesday morning.

Tuesday

Once fixed, Rhonda wanted to make up for lost time. She handled I-65 like Mike Tyson handles women: with no mercy and no respect. We were making great time, and then some more strange things started to happen. While I was on I-70 in between New Castle and Hagerstown, Indiana, out of nowhere I see three F-4 Phantoms flying overhead, one after the other, about 10 seconds apart.

As if the car gods hadn't fisted me enough this trip, no less than 10 miles after the random fighter plane sighting--I shit you not--my left front tire explodes. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill tire pop. Chunks of tire were flying all over the place. My hubcab breaks off. Not falls off--breaks off (you can see the 2 remaining broken pieces of it in the pictures below). The force of the tire and hubcab explosion leads me to believe that it was no coincidence that I noticed those F-4s. Sure, the government's going to pretend like F-4s don't target '91 Hondas driving on interstate highways, but I find it a little too convenient that only 2 1/2 days eariler I was disagreeing with a Republican.

Anyway, so there I am, freezing my ass off while I'm changing a tire along I-70. And of course my spare is one of those donut spares that looks like it would be too small for a Yugo. The absolure best part about my spare is that it can only handle speeds up to 50 mph, which meant that I went 50 down the interstate for the rest of the way with my flashers on.

I did get home in time to get a new tire before Jester and I had to be at the bowling alley for our league. So, in the end, it was just a typical Midwestern winter weekend.