4/5: Joyful Cheerleaders, Depressed Classmates
• So the NCAA Women’s Final Four is over and done with. Go Maryland. Actually, I don’t care about women’s basketball on the collegiate level (or any other level for that matter), but if other people like watching it, and there's an audience for this market, then more power to them. I was watching some highlights this morning of the final game and something caught my eye. Schools have female cheerleaders for women’s sports? Odd. If I was a male athlete, I don’t know how I’d feel if every time I scored a basket a bunch of guys in matching outfits and pom poms sitting under the hoop would get up and dance around – not that there’s anything wrong with that mind you. Oh, and I am sincere when I say congratulations to Maryland for winning the women’s title – I don’t like college sports, but any team that beats Penn State or Duke is OK by me.
• Lovecraft is still waxing poetic on faux hippies, and he reminded me of a college experience. Back in 1998, before he became the first boss of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge was a Republican governor of Pennsylvania. Even though some of his critics, particularly the union crowd, dubbed him “One-Term Tom” he was for the most part a popular governor, and the Democrats really didn’t have anyone to go up against him for his re-election bid. The Democrats brought out some old guy by the name of Ivan Itkin who had no shot at beating Ridge. Itkin came to our school one night to do a taping for our student television crew, and I spoke with him afterward for an article in our school newspaper. He seemed like a nice guy, and although I had no intention of voting for him, I felt he genuinely believed what he was saying. Of course, this guy had no chance of winning; in fact, his campaign strategy was to go around in only a dozen or so counties pimping what he could do as the state's next governor. The problem was Pennsylvania has more than 60 counties. Granted some counties are bigger than others, but with a strategy like that, especially when your opponent is reasonably well-liked throughout the state, you are destined to lose.
After his television segment was over, and before I was about to talk with him, I was chatting with some blonde chick that was part of the student TV production crew. I was waiting for Itkin to arrive outside the studio, and she was waiting for a nearby elevator to come to our floor. For some reason she must have assumed I was a lib just like her because she began saying what a great guy Itkin was and how he’d make a great governor. Obviously, she hadn’t been reading up on current events, because even the more liberal media in the Shittburgh area were questioning Itkin’s chances of victory against Ridge. I had to break it to her that her guy had no shot of winning this election. When she asked why, I explained to her his pisspoor campaign strategy, lack of a war chest and the fact that the evil Republican governor wasn’t so bad, at least in the eyes of the Pennsylvania voters. At that moment she got a dejected look, the likes I have only seen in former blind dates when they realize that I’m the person they’re going to be spending an evening with, and said, “Oh, no. That means we’re going to have four more years of Governor Tom Ridge.” It was at that moment the elevator door opened, and as she walked into it and hit a floor button I said to her, “You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing.” As the doors closed, you should have seen the look of fright and disgust on her face; you would have thought she had encountered the Anti-Christ, or, worse yet, George W. Bush.
• Oh, and for those who wondered what I did on my 30th birthday yesterday, here’s a quick rundown: Went to work, made a vet appointment for Max, who is having issues with going to the bathroom. Left work for a few hours to get him to an appointment slot that was available that day. (If you have a cat, particularly a male, who is struggling to urinate, get them checked out ASAP. Chances are it’s just a urinary tract infection, which is what Max has, but other times it could be more serious, and even life-threatening, as was the case with my in-law’s cat, who had his pee hole clogged up.) Went back to work. Ate at a ghetto all-you-can-eat pizza chain store called CiCi’s. (It’s one of those places I eat at every six months or so, and every time I do I swear I’m never going back. But then whenever I need to intake some more disgusting, greasy food I return and the cycle starts all over again.) Went grocery shopping (saved $40 off a $110 order for those keeping score at home). Picked up Max from the vet. Unloaded groceries. Laid in bed swearing that I’ll never go back to CiCi’s again. The End.
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