On some warm Houston evening in May of 1983, the stars must have been aligned against me. The events that unfolded that night at Chez Parsley positioned my 21st birthday to fall perfectly in the midst of Virginia's midterm week.
Even luckier for me, my 21st landed on the Monday of that midterm week.
Add one tequila shot, a Starrhill Pale and then the bill, and you've got yourself a recipe for some 'mmm good anticlimactic stew.
I can still be relatively thankful for my luck this week, having just a single test to study for. The average student seems to have as many tests today and tomorrow as free throws made by Elton Brown in 13 attempts against Maryland.
(That's three, just in case you transferred here in the last week.)
But still, it's my 21st birthday. You don't want to be spending the first thirty minutes of it at "sober" bars -- which is what we all know the top floor of Clemons really is.
Ever wonder why they're so pressed to sell all those vending-machine candy bars up there? If their food sales drop below a certain percentage, the Virginia Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control would jump on them faster than the family of rats in my oven jumps on our leftover Frank's Pizza.
I did manage to hop over to the Corner for a little bit to see my friend play at The Virginian. But I still fell exactly 20 shots short of the "21 shots" ritual the cool college kids are expected to complete.
I guess I'm just not a cool college kid. Let it never be said that my life resembles the back of a Spring Break '96 shirt.
So in the wee hours of Monday morning, I got a birthday present that brightened my day: an e-mail from Joe Lemire asking to switch column days this week to give him more time on a top secret project.
I expected a "Beard Fortnight" icon such as Joe to give me a complete set of facial hair for my birthday. But red has never been my best color. The gift of getting to spend the afternoon inside writing this story is more than enough for me.
My parents always told me that you get out of life only what you give back. So in accordance with the 5th Commandment, I will honor my father and mother (and fourth-year sister) by giving the class of 2005 an early graduation gift: a recap of some memorable athletic moments during their time in the service of Wahoo Nation. And the Oscar goes to...
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