KState: The Other Stuff

The first "Other Stuff" of the conference season. Time to assess the year to date, and look toward future "Other Stuffs."

It's time for big changes.

The fact I feel very uncomfortable changing clothes in my office (being One Garment Away-from Commando or OGAC) is really not the stuff for public comment, right? In years past, Mrs. Cheeser worked from home so I could simply go there, change quickly, and jump into the car. Now with her working "out South," I need to change here. It has been suggested that some of the younger posters on the Board who think not so much with words, but with pictures, would rather not contemplate my OGAC issues. So be it.

What's up with describing the drive to AFH? For goodness sake, everyone's been on I-435 and K-10. Mrs. Cheeser used to provide some funny comments back when I was driving a different car – she hated that car. I remember the poster who correctly deciphered my description of it: "the sound of a flat 6 thumping behind me." It was either the make he guessed, or an old six-pack of Busch in the trunk. Now, Mrs. Cheeser likes my car, and doesn't give me any guff about it. Not nearly as much fun to write about, but much saner to travel in.

Dining. Who really cares where a couple of old folks eat before a game? We're easy to spot, along with the other people looking for dinner at 5:00 dressed in too much crimson and blue, and making sure there is not too much spicy stuff in the sauce. We usually end up in one of the few "usual suspects" anyway.

Commenting on what Ms. O'Connor wears. Goodness sakes, what did she ever do to deserve such scrutiny?

Same goes for the Band, the Dance Team f/k/a the Crimson Girls, the Cheerleaders, the Colors, and the National Anthem. So, too, the people around us. New! We need something new for these "Other Stuff" posts.

What to do? That's the question.

Perhaps I could cloak all I say in double entendre, like Julie used to do. That was always a hit. Okay, here goes: "We rammed our way home into AFH, pulling out all the stops to push our way to the goal, our seats, where in we went, and out for a Coke to the delighted cries of ‘yes, yes, yes' from the folks sitting next to us when asked if they wanted any." I don't know if I could keep that up all the way through.

I could take a cue from Eddie: "It sucked." Nope. Doesn't work for me.

How about a haiku?

Shannon dressed as Night. Does the black tell of motive? Crutches contrasting.

Naw. I'm a lawyer. It's against my grain to compress thoughts.

Perhaps Fred has it right: "I told you so. Carry on." No. I think I'd get bored with that.

I could try the Ramrod approach: "I told the people next to me to *@&% me! They didn't like that so then I screamed ‘%$#@!!& you **^%.' Hee hee hee." No. Seems to lack a certain finesse.

While Buttcheese did an "Other Stuff" post from, what was it, California; I'm not sure I could copy that style. It would be difficult for me to sit on a plane next to Langford and not probe more deeply the fact Keith wore headphones and never spoke. (My brother, who works in New York, NY clued me in long ago to stick headphones on -- even if not connected to anything -- to make it easier to avoid looking at or responding to the freaks). In any event, given Buttcheese's recent work as a moderator, I suppose his "Other Stuff" posts would read something like this: "Looked real hard for nipples. Didn't see any. Game was just okay." Don't think Mrs. Cheeser would approve of that quest.

I'm sorry, gentle readers. You're stuck with me. What you get is a basic stream of consciousness piece that must be completed in my self-imposed deadline of an hour (which is, already, almost up). Here goes.

Game day now involves me getting up an hour earlier so I can get Mrs. Cheeser to work on time (and then pick her up from there for the game). At bedtime Tuesday night, she was still fighting with her computer. In my line of works, projects often don't resolve for years. I have no problem walking away from uncompleted chores. I stopped by to tell her I was going to turn in, if that was okay with her. She informed me that I didn't need her permission, but she needed something to drink. I complied. Shuffling off to bed, I hear "are those towels still in the dryer"? Correct that pressing need and head back upstairs and restock the linen closet. "You know, we could save some time in the morning if you could get something together for me to have for lunch tomorrow." Back downstairs. Bag it and put in her small, cooler, lunch bag. Trudging back upstairs I hear from the bedroom "I thought you were going to bed." No comment.

Work, work, work. "How's it going boys?" Work, work, work.

Time to change clothes for the game. I give myself more time. I recall a theory from college that if you behave in a certain way, you can help yourself feel the same way. So I take my time. Not doing anything wrong, so why hurry? Not a total success. Need some repetition, I guess.

Out of my office and on the road. Mrs. Cheeser waiting for me. Off to Lawrence.

27 minutes from Corporate Woods to Don's Steak House (getting a little vibration at 90 mph; need to look at my tires). 21 minutes from Don's to Uno's. The joys of 5:00 in Lawrence!

Pizza and a salad. No biggie. Just fine.

Off to AFH. Some of the changes instigated when the terror alert was elevated a while ago still in place. Have to walk through things that look like cattle fences at the door so we form a single file line. (Mrs. Cheeser STILL doesn't think it's funny when I go "moooooo.") Look in Mrs. Cheeser's purse – more guts than I have. Don't see as many folks with side arms, though. Maybe that's because the alert was relaxed a level. Still some police around. Perhaps because the Governor's here?

Up to our seats. Have a nice chat with our "yellow hat guy" (the ushers who work for little or no pay, I think, but get to watch the games). He has all manner of theories about Ell Roberson (sp?) and the women's team's fight with MU.

In our seats. Mrs. Cheeser's purse disappears into the plastic bag brought for the purpose (I've been informed that Coke on Coach is a no-no), and we settle in. It's about 6:35. The Band is playing. GA pretty full, many reserved seats still empty.

The Navy ROTC presents the Colors. The National Anthem handled by a guy with a nice musical theatre voice (yes, that's damning with feint praise in my book).

Bryant Nash is starting? We inquire of those around us what Graves did to get into Self's doghouse. No one knows.

Speaking of those around us, the administrator and spouse in front of us have made it to their third game of the year. The guy we like behind us is here. The corporate seats to Mrs. Cheeser's right are peopled with two 30-something guys who still use the "f-word" in all of its variants in "normal" conversation. "Look at how f____ full the stands are." "Look at that f____." "Well f____ me, I didn't think so." Etc. You get the picture. I'm sure the grandmother on his right with her 16-year-old granddaughter appreciated it too. We used to try to ask folks with such vocabulary to tone it down a notch, but we learned the word choice was almost nonconscious, and usually paid for our concern with louder examples. Oh well. The corporate seats over my left shoulder were empty well into the game until they were filled in by a couple of college age kids who were good fans.

Shannon sits behind the basket during the game. She's on crutches and wearing a red and black "French sailor striped" sweater, with black jeans and very sensible shoes. Her jeans have the pre-faded look. By gum, in my day your jeans achieved fading the old fashioned way – they earned it. These jeans look, frankly, like someone has been rubbing her butt way too much.

The Cheerleaders are reaching their stride. Tonight in their blue uniforms, the women with white hair ribbons. I don't know, but must guess they have a coach now. They tumble MUCH more than squads in the past. They did their competition number at half time. A little ragged, but with lots of energy and a number of holds I'd not seen before. I wish them luck in Orlando this weekend.

The Dance Team f/k/a the Crimson Girls were in their Gladiator outfits. The ones with the right arm of chainmail. Maybe it was sequins. Anyway, they were fine, but ticked me off with their performance garb. Teal and black. Now, don't get me wrong, they looked nice. The tops were backless, the hair was up, and the black tights had sparklies down the side. But teal and black? Do crimson and blue not offer enough choices? Bums me out. Couldn't see most of their performance because of too many people moving around. They compete in Orlando this weekend too.

In general, the crowd was off. Noise when obvious, but the crowd certainly didn't lead anything. We were reactive. The south side of the students forgot to do anything on opposing free throws a few times. Not sure what the deal was. Complacency?

The ride home was uneventful. Home in time to see a few clips on the news. Can't wait for …. Richmond? Need to do some research on that.

Well, I've run out of steam and out of time. This win will make me take "the streak" much less for granted!

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