I called my best buddy Chris today and wished him a happy Cinco De Mayo as I do every year.
Not because he's Mexican, but because that's a very special day for us.
Thirteen years ago we were in our mid-20's and I had just moved to Dayton, having just gotten my first (and probably last) career job at the college. That weekend, it was my turn to drive up to where he lived in Bowling Green, OH. It's the closest he's lived to me since we both grew up in upstate NY and met at a house party.
Anyhow, we had one of "those nights" on Cinco De Mayo thirteen years ago in Bowling Green.
Ya know what I mean?
It was one of those nights where we drank copious beers while playing golf. During which, we purposely tried to hit a supply shed off the drive of the 18th hole instead of the fairway after disabling the governor on the golf cart so it went extra fast and blew smoke out the back. Then we went to his apartment and drank some more beers.
It was one of those nights where we stumbled upon the fact that it was Cinco De Mayo and decided it was our mission to go to Chi Chi's for some more cocktails?
It was one of those nights where we drank more at Chi Chi's and started asking the bartender if she would give us the big, over sized styrofoam sombrero that read "Tecate" sat atop the head of a mexican life sized cardboard cutout of a mexican dude?
It was one of those nights where we heckled the bartender for the big funny styrofoam hat until she finally gave it to us so we'd get the hell out at closing time after staying wayyyyyyy too long?
It was one of those nights where we went out to the strip in Bowling Green to the late night college bars and took turns wearing the big huge styrofoam hat and basking in the attention as people noticed and laughed and made funny jokes and called us "Speedy Gonzalez" and things of that nature?
It was one of those nights where we stayed until the late night bars closed and then as we were walking down the street a guy made a wise crack to my friend Chris and he dropped the hat on the sidewalk and did a Mexican "hat dance" to show how serious he was about playing the part of the guy with the huge styrofoam sombrero Tecate promotional prop hat?
Yep one of those nights where we...well, weren't sure how we made it home.
That night will stay firmly engrained in my memory. What there is of it.
Chris doesn't drink any more. That's okay, because I'm done with nights like that. I'll take the phone call instead.
Happy Cinco De Mayo everybody.
About Me
- Mick
- In 1968, a baby boy was born and his parents named him Michael. As a cute little zero year old, he had a little round nose and made gurgly noises. But, he also had colic which tired his mama out and his grandmother often rocked him to sleep. One night, while doing this, she nicknamed him "Mickey" and that is why people also call him Mick. He grew up in upstate New York in a place too remote to be called anything. There were a lot of bugs and his Dad yelled at him for using too many paper towels. Little Mickey tried to have fun playing war with his friends and shooting BB guns. He didn't apply himself very much in school and he graduated high school Magne Cum Lousy. One day in 1986 he discovered a lump in his neck which he promptly ignored for more than 6 months. As fate would have it, it was Hodgekin's Disease and after months of dicking around with inept doctors, he promptly underwent aggressive treatment involving brutal tests and chemotherapy. This lasted a year followed by many years of paranoia. This is where he learned to suffer and it payed great dividends. Now he teaches 13th grade at a college in Ohio where he suffers daily.
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