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Effortlessly Average

Sort of half-heartedly leading the charge into mediocrity since, oh, let's say around 1987 or so.

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Location: Roaming (additional charges may apply), Argentina

Proof that with internet access and a powerful laxative, even insipid people will blog; the place where your excellence and my mediocrity collide; where my Karma whips ass on your dogma.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

That'll Be $16.50 and Two Hail Maries

Football is consuming my life. Our son is on his first Pop Warner team and he couldn't be happier about it. You'd think he was already a professional. I know because he said so himself. On his first scrimage we walked through the entrance tunnel onto the grid iron. It was his first time dressed in full uniform and pads in front of a crowd. You could smell the awe that enveloped him. Almost to himself he muttered, "this. is. sooo. COOL! I feel like a professional!"

Yep, he's hooked. So for his sake we bite our tongues and attend all the pep rallies, punt/kick/pass competitions, games, practices, and other events cunningly disguised as football events but are really designed to separate us from our money. My first girlfried wasn't so high-maintenance; and only marginally more expensive.

Today was the punt/pass/kick competition. According to the flyer we were supposed to be there by 9am, but as usual we arrived - on time, I might add - to find we were actually way early. Apparently registration began at 9am. The rest of the parents know this means to arrive sometime around 9:30 or 10:00. On the other hand, I apparently still naively think that 9am means nine in the morning. So we sat there for the first hour trying our best to avoid being hit up for the twentieth time to buy a raffle ticket.

As my son watched the raffle peddler wander away in search of further victims who could be guilted into trading their salary for a little pink piece of paper with an illegible number on it, he asked "Hey Dad, why don't you volunteer to work the events?"

"I would, but they don't call me to ask." Which is true, really. I would do it, and I have made that known, but no one ever seems to contact me to tell me they need my help. And I'm sure I gave them the correct phone number. I'm virtually certain of it.

"You should tell them again. Then you could volunteer to work at the confession stand."

Confession Stand? Hmmm... How would that work? "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I need two cheeseburgers, a basket of curly fries, and a biggie coke please."

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