Alumni Weekend

As the medium one mentioned, "thirteen feet of man" will be barnstorming the midwest collegiate countryside (well, our alma mater anyway) this weekend at the annual love-fest that is our alumni game weekend. The sport for which we have bled blood and sweat sweat is ultimate frisbee and the alumni game has become and been a frequent-flyer-worthy event for even the Teach For America and not-for-profit types that have recently graduated, even as they dodge creditors and federal lenders that enabled them to get a Top 5 education and associated crippling debt load in the first place. Something on the order of 40 or so alumni are pencilled in for attendance, which is allegedly a record -- and by quite a margin. Color me excited, as Saturday of this weekend typically gets "Crazy" (also the official song of the weekend and my unofficial new favorite song -- sure to last at least a week).

Ouch in 3...2...1...

Editor's Note: Ultimate frisbee is NOT played with dogs, nor is it frisbee golf. And please don't call our favorite sport frisbee football. I can't stress this enough people.

The weekend will also serve as a suitable event in which to celebrate the upcoming nuptials of two alums, Peaches and PBo (these are not pseudonyms -- ultimate tends to lend itself to cutesy nicknames for some reason (ie. Kaiser)). I'm not recalling exactly how Peaches got his nickname, but can say that he bears only a slight resemblance to a "Persian apple". We will wish them well on their journey towards increased flatulence, bulbousness, and inside jokes with their significant other, which clearly is the goal of marriage in the first place. I'm personally hoping to avoid some of the "typical" bachelor party activities -- you know, like shotgunning acetone and interstate slip 'n slide contests. But seriously folks, I just don't get into the whole women taking their clothes off for me thing. Wait...what did I just say? What I meant was, I don't like to pay for it. Unless I'm in a Korean massage parlor where (I'm told) it's just plain good manners.

The weather has decided not to cooperate with the aforementioned activities thus far. Sebbylite got off the plane from Seattle, discovered it was 40 and rainy, and had to shake off the overwhelming feeling of deja vu before getting in my car. At least if it was snowing, he'd know where he is. And I'm not talking about Anchorage. But we shall overcome. That's "Minnesota nice" for you -- we do everything we can, including changing the weather, to make outsiders feel welcome.