Best of 2005: The Memories
Before I say anything, I'd like to do two things: first, I'm going to apologize in advance for the dearth of comprehension this entry will provide. I know I've forgotten memorable things, for any number of reasons. Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone who has affected my life in a positive way this year. If you're reading this and I know you, chances are you're one of those people. Go raibh mile maith agat.
So This Is the New Year
DJ and I left Jake's party early in favor of a more low-key affair. We hung out at Ginny's, then we smoked cigars at my house. DJ made omelettes and we woke up the next morning to drive down the shore, where the Four Horsemen made sweet love (okay, we talked) on the beach.
Reading this recap, I'm thinking I should be owed some money from the Brokeback Mountain royalties.
One Team, One City, One Dream
McNabb drops back. The Atlanta rush is coming. He rolls out of the pocket, buying himself some time, just as he's done hundreds of times before. He fires a laser to an open Chad Lewis in the back of the end zone. The force and conviction with which McNabb throws the ball seems to knock Lewis on his ass, but he holds on to the ball for dear life. Both feet remain planted in bounds. Lewis raises his arms in victory. I collapse to the floor, tears of joy flooding the hallway.
Downtown State College is Little Philadelphia for a short time. As I watch the final seconds tick off the clock (just to make sure), I bundle up and run outside into the falling snow, hugging people I've never met before.
The Eagles are going to the Super Bowl.
Jump On It
The lights go down. The music kicks up. I begin laughing hysterically as I hear James Brown belting out "Living in America" and see John Albert Kurz walking down the aisle, sporting his red, white and blue threads and gigantic boxing gloves.
The Mr. Haverford competition is the pinnacle of entertainment. I am enthralled from the beginning as Andy Bench defys the precedents of the human anatomy and threads a Twizzler Pull and Peel through each nostril and out his mouth.
Jake never fails to disappoint, and I laugh through his entire "talent," which consists of him coming up with impromptu responses to Dating Game-type questions.
Unfortunately, it's not in the cards for Jake, as the panel screws over a couple more talented gentleman in favor of the minority (not that Dan Ha didn't do well, but come on...)
He did, however, win the Mr. Penny designation, as I donated about 20 bucks to his favor and my archenemy Randy Koch put in his fair share as well.
Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza
I couldn't be prouder to say that I know a man named David Gene Million. Words cannot do justice to the sequence of events that will forever etch his memory into my brain, but I'll try.
On a day that many people will remember for Live 8, I'll remember for the annual Manoa Road block party. Karaoke, pick-up hoops, the works. It's guaranteed to be a fun time.
Goldfish certainly meant well when she brought out the glowing necklace things. They're always a hit with the kids and immature young adults such as myself. We all grabbed our share.
Jake and Dave have a history of feuding that goes back to the 4th grade, but I nothing will top the battle that ensued. As you may know, those glowing necklace dealies double as dangerous weapons. Dave certainly knows, for he and Jake got into it with the necklaces as the weapons of choice. Somehow, Jake outduels Dave and gets control of both of the necklaces. When the moment is right, he blindsides Dave, delivering a welt-inducing blow to the back.
Dave is left reeling, but in a moment of blind fury, he grabbed the nearest projectile--a basketball--and armed himself. Jake, with his head turned towards DJ and me, got caught celebrating prematurely--caught right in the jewels with the basketball.
Jake collapsed in a broken heap. I collapsed in a fit of laughter.
The weekend's antics didn't end there. That Monday was the 4th of July, and Sir Elton John was coming to town. As part of a last-second plan, my sister and I met Jake, Dennis, and Kyle downtown to catch the flamboyant rocker.
I wouldn't consider myself a big Elton John fan, but he put on a hell of a show, despite my Billy Joel cracks. Among the highlights of the night were my pink and blue polo shirt and Dhani Jones onstage with Patti LaBelle.
However, the main highlight of the night was when we shockingly ran into Dennis's spazztastic neighbor, Lanky Dave. He is named such because he is about 6'7" and about 150 pounds. He also has a propensity for slow dancing with strangers, apparently. We belted out all the words to "Tiny Dancer" together like it was the last day of our lives.
Hey, Where's Kevin?
I don't know where it went wrong. It might have been the choice of beverage (Vladimir). It might have been the number of shots (probably around eight). It might have been the decision to go outside. I don't know; I'm not a doctor.
Somehow, in the span of about a half hour, I achieved the following feats:
a) almost got clocked by an angry Steelers fan,
b) got a girl's number programmed into my cell phone without requesting such, and
c) became the first of my group of friends to get arrested.
It was a productive night.
So This Is the New Year
DJ and I left Jake's party early in favor of a more low-key affair. We hung out at Ginny's, then we smoked cigars at my house. DJ made omelettes and we woke up the next morning to drive down the shore, where the Four Horsemen made sweet love (okay, we talked) on the beach.
Reading this recap, I'm thinking I should be owed some money from the Brokeback Mountain royalties.
One Team, One City, One Dream
McNabb drops back. The Atlanta rush is coming. He rolls out of the pocket, buying himself some time, just as he's done hundreds of times before. He fires a laser to an open Chad Lewis in the back of the end zone. The force and conviction with which McNabb throws the ball seems to knock Lewis on his ass, but he holds on to the ball for dear life. Both feet remain planted in bounds. Lewis raises his arms in victory. I collapse to the floor, tears of joy flooding the hallway.
Downtown State College is Little Philadelphia for a short time. As I watch the final seconds tick off the clock (just to make sure), I bundle up and run outside into the falling snow, hugging people I've never met before.
The Eagles are going to the Super Bowl.
Jump On It
The lights go down. The music kicks up. I begin laughing hysterically as I hear James Brown belting out "Living in America" and see John Albert Kurz walking down the aisle, sporting his red, white and blue threads and gigantic boxing gloves.
The Mr. Haverford competition is the pinnacle of entertainment. I am enthralled from the beginning as Andy Bench defys the precedents of the human anatomy and threads a Twizzler Pull and Peel through each nostril and out his mouth.
Jake never fails to disappoint, and I laugh through his entire "talent," which consists of him coming up with impromptu responses to Dating Game-type questions.
Unfortunately, it's not in the cards for Jake, as the panel screws over a couple more talented gentleman in favor of the minority (not that Dan Ha didn't do well, but come on...)
He did, however, win the Mr. Penny designation, as I donated about 20 bucks to his favor and my archenemy Randy Koch put in his fair share as well.
Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza
I couldn't be prouder to say that I know a man named David Gene Million. Words cannot do justice to the sequence of events that will forever etch his memory into my brain, but I'll try.
On a day that many people will remember for Live 8, I'll remember for the annual Manoa Road block party. Karaoke, pick-up hoops, the works. It's guaranteed to be a fun time.
Goldfish certainly meant well when she brought out the glowing necklace things. They're always a hit with the kids and immature young adults such as myself. We all grabbed our share.
Jake and Dave have a history of feuding that goes back to the 4th grade, but I nothing will top the battle that ensued. As you may know, those glowing necklace dealies double as dangerous weapons. Dave certainly knows, for he and Jake got into it with the necklaces as the weapons of choice. Somehow, Jake outduels Dave and gets control of both of the necklaces. When the moment is right, he blindsides Dave, delivering a welt-inducing blow to the back.
Dave is left reeling, but in a moment of blind fury, he grabbed the nearest projectile--a basketball--and armed himself. Jake, with his head turned towards DJ and me, got caught celebrating prematurely--caught right in the jewels with the basketball.
Jake collapsed in a broken heap. I collapsed in a fit of laughter.
The weekend's antics didn't end there. That Monday was the 4th of July, and Sir Elton John was coming to town. As part of a last-second plan, my sister and I met Jake, Dennis, and Kyle downtown to catch the flamboyant rocker.
I wouldn't consider myself a big Elton John fan, but he put on a hell of a show, despite my Billy Joel cracks. Among the highlights of the night were my pink and blue polo shirt and Dhani Jones onstage with Patti LaBelle.
However, the main highlight of the night was when we shockingly ran into Dennis's spazztastic neighbor, Lanky Dave. He is named such because he is about 6'7" and about 150 pounds. He also has a propensity for slow dancing with strangers, apparently. We belted out all the words to "Tiny Dancer" together like it was the last day of our lives.
Hey, Where's Kevin?
I don't know where it went wrong. It might have been the choice of beverage (Vladimir). It might have been the number of shots (probably around eight). It might have been the decision to go outside. I don't know; I'm not a doctor.
Somehow, in the span of about a half hour, I achieved the following feats:
a) almost got clocked by an angry Steelers fan,
b) got a girl's number programmed into my cell phone without requesting such, and
c) became the first of my group of friends to get arrested.
It was a productive night.
***
There were many more nights to remember, but unfortunately, I have the worst memory of anyone I know. My short-term memory is spectacular, but ask me to recall something that happened more than an hour ago and you're stretching. If I had to describe 2005, I'd say it had its moments, good and bad. But altogether, it was an interesting year to say the least. Hope you had a good one, and here's to a happy 2006.
There were many more nights to remember, but unfortunately, I have the worst memory of anyone I know. My short-term memory is spectacular, but ask me to recall something that happened more than an hour ago and you're stretching. If I had to describe 2005, I'd say it had its moments, good and bad. But altogether, it was an interesting year to say the least. Hope you had a good one, and here's to a happy 2006.
posted by Kevin A. Doran at 10:22 PM
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