A Case of Hoeppatitis

Last night can only be described as magical. Upon arriving home from work, I was greeted not by the blast of cool air one comes to expect from an 8000-BTU air conditioner that he just bought on Sunday, but rather by the blast of hot air that one comes to expect from a non-air-conditioned third-floor apartment on a 100-degree day. It seems that our apartment's circuitry is incapable of handling such a hoss of an air conditioner for extended periods of daylight. At that point, I did what any good husband would do: I got the hell out of there and went to a bar with some friends, leaving Jessie to worry about the fusebox, the heat, and a dog suffering from heat exhaustion.

But seriously, Tradd and I went to Joe's on Weed Street for the annual IU Football Kickoff, sponsored by the Chicago chapter of the IU Alumni Association. All of the TVs at Joe's were playing an IU football film, which showed "highlights" of IU football from throughout its history, including the mildly successful A.N. "Bo" McMillin era, the once successful John Pont era, the schizophrenic Lee Corso era, the relatively successful Bill Mallory era, the nearly successful Antwaan Randle El era, and the laughable Gerry DiNardo era.

As you might imagine, the keynote speaker for this event was IU head football coach Terry Hoeppner (pronounced "hep-ner" for those of you who don't live in the Midwest and thus are incapable of correctly pronouncing a name with an "oe" in it). Despite the fact that he had some minor off-season surgery to remove a tumor from his temple, Coach Hep, as the kids call him, was his usual excitable self. He actually makes people believe that IU can win. For me, anything less than 10-2 this year will be unacceptable. Actually, a 6-6 record and a Motor City Bowl berth would make me happier than a new job. Well, almost.

After the speech, Tradd and I got to take a nice picture with Coach Hep. As you can see, he was more than thrilled with the opportunity.
Tradd and I had to leave Joe's when Jessie kept calling me and telling me that she needed to get out of our apartment because she was sweating to death. She actually asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a drink. Since I'm not sure if she will ever again ask me if I want to go drinking on a weeknight, I gladly accepted post haste. We ended up going to Chi-Town Tap, where we watched the White Sox try their damnedest to piss away a victory against the Royals. Luckily, they were playing the Royals, a team whose struggles are so bad that they had to hire back-to-back-to-back AAU national champion coach Tom Emanski to help them with their hitting and fundamentals.

Don't you dare forget that tomorrow is Midwestern Eavesdropping. Send your submissions to gmyhblog@yahoo.com. Also, Hair Band Friday will be on haitus this week due to some concert in Grant Park with over 130 bands that I have paid good money to attend.