I Kissed A Girl
The very next weekend after the PVGP, an acronym I love to say as quickly as possible, Jacob invited me on another tryst to Akron, Ohio. I can't even begin to defend such a trip. In the first place its Ohio, home to such cities as Cleveland and Cincinnati. Can you believe, just last night, an economics doctoral candidate was trying to tell me that he had just passed through Cincinnati, and its waterfront area seemed pretty nice. I wouldn't hear it, and I told him so. On top of that, this was Akron. I swear, while there, a dirty, dirty, Puerto Rican boy in our party insisted that it was pronounced with a hard A.
Anyway, Akron is famous for really only one thing and that was the reason I was there, the All-American SoapBox Derby. First of all, I found the title grossly misleading. There were several teams from other nations, so its really not All-American is it? An interesting fact about the Soapbox Derby is that during its heyday in the 50's and 60's it was one of the nation's top draw athletic events with as many as 70,000 attending. Thankfully, there were no where near as many attending. I despise crowds, and to be honest, the "box" seating a person of my status requires was little more than a roped off section at the finish line.
This is a view from our seats looking up the track.
And here is one with a couple of cars barreling down the track.
Anyway, as some sort of guest of honor, its traditional for the person in my position to bestow a kiss upon the winner in these sorts of races. Of course, the winner was a girl, Krista Osborne, and a cheerleader to boot. I was not a little disappointed that she failed to mention me in the article and the kiss with which I favored her, as primary motivation and inspiration for her victory, to speak nothing of the very model of perfection I deliver each and every day. But I suppose I will just have to get used to not being mentioned specifically. Ahem.
There were all sorts of precious details to this trip, I couldn't possibly begin to delineate them all. But I will share a couple. While there, I toured around Kent State University, and let me say with conviction that it is very possible that the Kent State massacre may not have been the fault of the Ohio National Guard at all, but a sudden seizing of opportunity by several students only wishing to end the misery of their lives at Kent State.
Finally, there was a funny man running around all afternoon. I couldn't dare to take a picture directly of him, but I did snap a picture of ze Germans with him on the left side of the frame.
I don't know if you can make them out, but take a look at his shoe. Isn't it precious? Its a veritable bowling shoe in its brashness.
Anyway, Akron is famous for really only one thing and that was the reason I was there, the All-American SoapBox Derby. First of all, I found the title grossly misleading. There were several teams from other nations, so its really not All-American is it? An interesting fact about the Soapbox Derby is that during its heyday in the 50's and 60's it was one of the nation's top draw athletic events with as many as 70,000 attending. Thankfully, there were no where near as many attending. I despise crowds, and to be honest, the "box" seating a person of my status requires was little more than a roped off section at the finish line.
This is a view from our seats looking up the track.
And here is one with a couple of cars barreling down the track.
Anyway, as some sort of guest of honor, its traditional for the person in my position to bestow a kiss upon the winner in these sorts of races. Of course, the winner was a girl, Krista Osborne, and a cheerleader to boot. I was not a little disappointed that she failed to mention me in the article and the kiss with which I favored her, as primary motivation and inspiration for her victory, to speak nothing of the very model of perfection I deliver each and every day. But I suppose I will just have to get used to not being mentioned specifically. Ahem.
There were all sorts of precious details to this trip, I couldn't possibly begin to delineate them all. But I will share a couple. While there, I toured around Kent State University, and let me say with conviction that it is very possible that the Kent State massacre may not have been the fault of the Ohio National Guard at all, but a sudden seizing of opportunity by several students only wishing to end the misery of their lives at Kent State.
Finally, there was a funny man running around all afternoon. I couldn't dare to take a picture directly of him, but I did snap a picture of ze Germans with him on the left side of the frame.
I don't know if you can make them out, but take a look at his shoe. Isn't it precious? Its a veritable bowling shoe in its brashness.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home