Helluva weekend.

This past weekend was a blast. Got to hang with my dad, which rarely happens and got to see a great ballgame.

Last Friday I was still bummin over the chem test that I had failed the previous week. I look to the future with hope however, as the current chapter makes a little more sense to me than the last two. Anyhow, I stayed late Thursday night doing homework, continued on it all day Friday and still had to stay up until seven Saturday morning so that I could get it all done and enjoy the weekend.

After a three hour nap on Saturday, I showered and packed so that my dad (coming from out of town) could scoop me up and take me up north where we attended a family party. We got there around two and had a blast playing some Cornhole and tossed the football around. We left around 7 or 8 so that we could head downtown where we checked into a Grand Hyatt so we could sleep in and avoid the crowded streets on our way to the game the next day. We did this intentionally so that we could go bar-hoppin and check out the downtown scene. We had a lot of fun, though I have to admit, it was very quiet downtown for a Saturday night. We hit up a few bars (mostly just to stay out of the intermittent rain) and met quite a few really cool people. Everyone kept asking what Dad did for a living and when he said that he was a high-ranking corrections officer, you could tell that they were impressed. I’m so damn proud of the guy! The best response though was from this one chick who was absolutely plastered to the wall! She said, “Oh, you work in a prison? You’re a geologist then?” Nice. Coincidentally enough, it turned out that her occupation was flight attendant. She was from California and yes, she was blond-haired and blue-eyed. I couldn’t cram another stereotype into that description if I tried.

Around midnight, after having been out for about four hours, and having canvassed the majority of the greater metro area of downtown, we decided that the beer in our hotel room sounded better than the $3.50 jobs at the bar. We headed back and stayed up listening to my ipod and playing cards. I love to listen to dad’s stories when he’s lit up because they’re the stories that he’d never tell anyone otherwise, let alone his own son. Dad’s stories of taking moronic bets to do dangerous and idiotic stunts never fail to make me laugh til it hurts. He and his old army buddies put johnny Knoxville and Steve-O to shame. At one point I’m pretty sure I wet myself just a little. I’m not proud of it, but there it is. We retired for the evening around 3:30.

Next morning, since I hadn’t slept in about 39 or 40 hours, needless to say, I had difficulties. Luckily, I had slowed down on the alcoholic beverages enough to not have a hangover, but I was still runnin at about 35% capacity. I was not a happy camper. Mind you, dad had let me sleep in as well. We checked out of the hotel around 11 and immediately hit up the local Starbucks. Thank you over-priced pretentious coffee! George Carlin once said that the length of your Starbucks coffee order was directly proportional to how big of an asshole you are. Me? I order a grande coffee. Black! Carlin was definitely onto something there. I sure do miss that cranky old bastard! But I digress.

Since the game started at one, we thought we’d head straight to the field and just walk around. The game we went to didn’t mean anything as our team had already lost any chance of post-season glory. The stadium was relatively empty and it was nice just to relax and have a brat and a beer and bask in the glow of a fall baseball game. It was sweet. The day went by much too quickly as the game was a great exhibition of pitching prowess. I love those nearly scoreless games that rely on pitching stamina rather than steroid enhanced batting skill. To me, that is what a baseball game is all about. The rest of it is all details.

Dad and I had one helluva weekend together. Sorry you had to get the abbreviated cliff-notes version, but I do want to try to keep this page at the very least PG-13. Dad and I didn’t get into as much trouble as we normally do anyway. It was just cool to hang out with him. Hell, I never see him anymore since I’m married and live so far away. Don’t worry though, I won’t get all cat’s in the cradle on you. I will say this though, I hope that I turn out to be a fraction of the father that he is to me.

Sorry George.
You came in a close second, especially with bits like “The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television” or “Baseball vs. Football”, but you can never top my hero.

Love you Dad.

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One Response to “Helluva weekend.”

  1. Thank you my son for the kind words of praise but I must say there are times that I wish I had said a “yes’ here and a “no” there along the road to your adulthood, but in totality, you have grown to be a handsome, intelligent and respectful person that has a loving wife and a bright future ahead of you.
    Please give praise to your mother for her caring and sensitive nature and her compassionate demeanor. She was very instrumental in balancing the hard shell I instilled upon you and the soft inner self you possess. I believe that was important for your growth!!!
    It’s a difficult thing to be a father, and a buddy, and to balance the two. One day you will have children. Love them. Nurture them. Keep them safe and play with them always….
    O.K. enough of the mush.
    I had a great time at the Rockies game and now that we’re grown ups, we can act like kids….

    That airline stewardess was a “drip in the shot glass” if you know what I mean…ha. ha.

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