Friday, January 29, 2010

Keeping Up Appearances

In the wake of the Derek Dooley hiring in Knutsville, it seems most people are either ridiculously unencumbered by it or are somehow comfortable with it. I’m not normally one to harp on things, but this itches in a place I just can’t seem to scratch. If you’ll amuse me for a few paragraphs, I promise to put this on the back burner by end of business today. If you can’t stand any more words on this subject…feedbag’s below. Strap it on.

For one, the hire itself is a slap on the snout, a kick in the tail. Dooley is a Dawg name, not a mutt with blue ticks. If Mike ThumbuphisDumbass Hamilton wants to tell his constituency Dooley was his first choice, fine. Whatevs. We can see through the madness. This was a reach, a grasp for a name.

I guess Joe Lombardi has an unlisted number.

For two, there’s Vince Dooley’s response to his son getting the keys to the urranjah jalopy. Blather on all you want Reader about family pride and wanting your kids to enjoy success. But when you still represent Glory Glory and take up residence in Athens and Butts-Mehre, there’s at least an appearance of impropriety when you hum Rocky Flop. And it’s the appearance that you’re wearing an obnoxious color conservatively and quietly pulling for your son as the head coach at HillBilly U, all the while serving as the great ambassador for the nation’s oldest land grant university.

In his Playbook Dooley, a notorious worrywart, relates Herschel’s first game in every anxious detail. Using Broadway (a backup) to punt from our own endzone…late…clinging to the lead. Despite an earlier shankopotomous, Broadway booms a 47 yarder. The defense holds. Eventual national championship and perfect season still intact.

The passion with which Coach Dooley depicts that historic game, the gut-wrenching drama that unfolds in each paragraph…the man bleeds red and black. Yet, he’ll be conservatively wearing urranjah on Saturday October 9th. He’ll quietly be cheering for that blue-ticked hound. He may even hum a few bars of ol’ rocky flop.

All from his University of Georgia box. I can't help but wonder how Herschel feels about that?

the Friday Feedbag

Trivial Update
Q - On January 27, 1785 the Georgia Assembly gave birth to the University of Georgia, the nation's first state supported school. On February 13th, 1786, the trustees elected Abraham Baldwin the first president of UGA. What city did this take place in?
A - Augusta.

The day after Founders' Day proved to be a good one for @shainam, as she was the only tweep to answer correctly. Shaina takes home a Yale pennant and a big slice of red velvet cake. Meanwhile, for buzzing in first @TraceyLMJ gets one of those cool wigs the dudes wore back then to cover their ginormous foreheads.

    My wife often tells me I have my Dad’s sense of humor. She usually points this out when I find something ridiculously off the wall humorous, so I always take it as a compliment. Truth is, there’s many things I get from him…other than my dashing good looks. And until I too break 80 on the links, the greatest gift may be an appreciation of a good book. One of his favorite writers is Walker Percy. My favorite book has a foreword by Percy - A Confederacy of Dunces. Tragic story behind that, maybe you know it.

    And in the 7th grade, the old man allowed me to read The Catcher in the Rye. The buzz in 2nd period at Clarke Middle back then was that it had all the good cuss words. As did half of the class I quickly marked it down on my book order form, the one that came once a month. Later that night, my mom frowned then passed the form to Dad. He said he wouldn’t buy it, but that I could read his copy.

    Decades later, it’s not the new cuss words I learned that have stayed with me; it’s that Holden Caulfield was someone most teenagers could relate to. From his pubescent awkwardness to his distrust of adult interference, his first person experiences shook me to the core.

    JD Salinger had a gift he was only willing to share a handful of times. But without him we wouldn’t have met Holden, the kid who took Huck Finn's lunch money and bought a pack of cigs with it. The kid who spat in the eye of phonies, much to our amusement and liking. The kid who taught me that there's more to life than learning creative uses for the F word. 

    Now go call somebody a moron Reader. They hate it when you do that.


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