Famous Lees: First Robert E., Now This

check it.

Also.

It has come to my attention (numerous, numerous times) that I should be directing all my dear and loyal readers (or the 2 of you who may not be Ryan or Stanley) to the blog http://www.wryandstanley.blogspot.com/. Because it's funny? Or witty? Or insightful? Or will be all these things? But mainly because I'm referenced on it. Twice no less! So go forth and read.

About the Rodeo

I’d never even conceived of attending a rodeo before it was suggested to me last Friday that it might be a good way to spend the evening. I jumped at the idea because, I mean, who doesn’t want to take a spur(hah!)-of-the-moment trip to the rodeo when they have no alternate plans for the night? Away we went, sure that some kind of antics would ensue, but completely unsure of what, exactly, we were getting ourselves in to.

The affair, admittedly, should have been a much drunker one. There was a long drive though, what I'm sure was overpriced beer at the venue, and a lack of foresight on the bringing of flasks, which meant sobriety reigned king for once. At a rodeo of this caliber, the cowboys alone aren’t gonna cut it in terms of keeping my attention. My only previous experience being teevee viewership of similar affairs, I was a bit disappointed to see the broncos buck a little less, the calf ropers rarely manage a viable run, and piggy back couples barrel racing that was somehow more entertaining than the real thing (but come on! that second couple bit it! he just let her fall flat on her face!).

But there was still much to keep me entertained with, not the least of which was the crowd, comprised largely of drunken VMI students and less drunken rural central Virginians. As we neared the halfway point of the night, however, we were graced with what, at the time, seemed to be the most uniquely entertaining event some rodeo organizer on drugs had ever dreamed up.

It started with a new Dodge (not Ford! No, never Ford! The rodeo taught me that, apparently, Ford is bad. Did everyone else know this?) truck taking a lap around the ring. Lights flashing, music pumping--I really wanted to….well nothing. Not buy a new car, which, I guess? was the point? maybe?

Then these goats entered the ring. A herd of them. Upon further observation they may have actually been rams to go along with the Dodge theme, but really, they kinda just looked like goats. So they’re running around a bit, waiting for, oh, what?….oh the sheep dogs to enter. The goats will be herded by these sheep dogs. But what’s that on top of the sheep dog? Something is riding the sheep dog? It looked like a stuffed animal to me. A little stuffed sheep dog jockey was affixed to the back of each of the four or so canines.

But wait, that stuffed jockey just scratched it’s nose! THAT’S A FUCKING MONKEY!

So yes. The show was comprised of monkeys, in costume, no less, riding dogs around and herding goats. Ohmyfuckinggod. What is that? Why is that? How is that?

My photographic evidence documents (blurrily) the affair. Unfortunately, I did not manage to actually capture the “OhmygodIjustwatchedacowboymonkeyrideadog!” face that I know I, for one, certainly had plastered on my mug for the 5 or so minutes this debacle lasted.

If I'd had a better camera, or if those monekys hadn't been such darn good (and fast!) cowboys, I would've gotten a better picture and it would've looked something like this

The story could've ended there, and, indeed, I thought it had. But it had become my "story of the weekend," you know the one you tell every time someone asked you what you did or how your weekend was.

As I recounted the tale to Sam on Saturday night he nodded. "Ahh, the monkeys riding dogs. Always a classic." What? Who? Other people know about this?

The icing on the cake came this morning though. My co-worker asked me to tell him a funny story and I started in on the monkey tip. "Oh, right. I did a painting of that you know? It's somewhere here in my house. You've seen it I think." No, Danny. I haven't seen it. I definitely would not forget seeing an artist's interpretation of this phenomenon.

I definitely won't forget anything I have learned thus far, or stand to learn in the future, about this phenomenon.

Fun with Email

Today I received this email. Are you f-ing kidding me this kid goes to UVA? It takes him a whole paragraph to express less than nothing:

"Greetings,
My name is xxxx xxxx, and I write you with a few concerns regarding The Satellite Ballroom. I am a member of xxxxx, an organization that has participated in a function at the Ballroom, very beneficial for our supporters and still being inquired about. I would like to express that the types of Venues that we like to produce are those that are essential and productive entertainment for those persons who understand are orginazations purpose. A national org. with principals that we function by;as a result, we can be held accoountable for the things that happen internally within are chapter in view of the public eye, thus safety is essential. If possible could you educate me on what The Satellite deals with the use of your space. I believe that I am able to present to you a few avenues that might prove benificial in your favor. If you could let me know if, I can meet with you, or speak through email/phone, as to come to an understanding of what The Satellite Ballroom is capable of producing, I would greatly appreciate it.
Respectfully,
xxxx xxxx
University of Virginia
Class of 2006"


In other email news.
I had to email a girl today named Sparks Lee.
I mentioned it in an email to Ray. To which he replied:
"Awesome. It's like you married Trog and had a baby and then had to e-mail the baby. Or something."

Play ball

Feist's comment on entering the Ballroom yesterday: "Oh, it's like....a community center." Ouch.

I don't know about you. But when I think of community centers I think of this

Breakin' 2 anyone?

Score

We didn’t have as many attendees at our Superbowl gathering as we might have hoped. Given attendance at the previous Sunday’s soiree I think we overestimated who might show. Ever-dependable Thom showed though, and Kristy stopped in between stints doing the 6 o’clock and 11 o’clock weather.

There’s something about seeing someone you know and drink wine with regularly on TV that never gets old. Despite the fact the local news here often leads with UVA sports scores or a story about something like the Blue Ridge Soapbox Classic, and the weather seems to take up about 13 minutes of the broadcast, I always watch when I’m home and know Kristina’s anchoring. In some minor way maybe it feeds my addition to celebrity and gives me the most minor connection ever to fame.

Michelle Kwan always pulls on her ear after she competes as a not so subtle sign to whomever it is she's messaging at home. When Kristy had to leave to get back to the station last night, we all agreed she needed to work a shout out into the weather report, cause we’d be watching, and drunk, and excited about it. She thought a head scratch or hand sign might be too awkward, and admittedly I wasn’t convinced she was going to play in to our key word dropping plan at all.

But then there she was. Telling us about the weather in the Midwest. I think she was somewhere over Iowa or Minnesota when it came. “For more frothy weather you can look to the West.” Touchdown.

Oh Stephanie

DJ always was my favorite.

http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Entertainment/story?id=1564779