Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Mascots

As hard as I’ve tried to write up a recap of our wins in Boston and Maine this past weekend, my style of writing really doesn’t lend itself to sports writing. Each attempt of mine results in the equivalent of a boiled chicken dinner, when my usual writing looks more like a well-seasoned home-cooked meal. Can you tell it’s almost lunch time? So, I’ve decided not to write about our super-fantabulous, amazing win over Boston and our fun-filled win over Maine. Instead, I’m going to talk about mascots.

I’m going to reveal something about myself that not too many people know: when I was in high school I was our football team’s mascot for a season – a big blue owl with only 4-fingered wings, which was good because most of my time was spent jumping up and down in front of the preppiest rich kids in the school at those games, giving them the finger without them ever knowing.

I was asked to be the owl by the head cheerleader at the time. Why she picked me – I’ll never know. Was it my wit? My charm? The fact that I could fit into the owl suit? Regardless, just about the only shred of tradition in my school related to the mascot. No one was supposed to know who the owl actually was, so I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Being the owl was the closest I ever got to school spirit. I really didn’t hang out with many kids from my school, and I never dated anyone from there either. I’m laughing as I write this, thinking about how little has changed. I liked my space then, just like I like it now. In any event being the mascot for that year was fun.

I can’t really remember the logistics, like how and where I changed into the costume, what I wore under it, or if anyone ever found out it was me. I do remember the inside of the costume was itchy, and even if it was below freezing outside, I would sweat like I pig in that thing (me sweating, yet another thing that hasn’t changed).

I briefly thought about the owl costume this weekend while in Boston, watching Pinchy McMasshole and the two Charm City Dirty Franks running up and down the sidelines. I couldn’t help but laugh at Pinchy’s pirate hat over and again, and those damn hot dogs (played by Cheeta Torpeda and Essie Ecks) made me giggle each time I saw them jumping up and down together. I guess that’s what mascots are suppose to do – command the audience’s attention and get them to rally for their team. When I was the owl, I certainly had a slightly different motivation… Yet, today, I feel like I’ve become the mascot for a lot of things without even realizing it.

In one aspect, I see myself running up and down the sidelines, trying to get people to cheer for “curves” over “lines”, which I certainly do on this blog. Hmmm, if I had a costume to wear for this one, I’d be a gigantic ass and I’d bounce around the sidelines and back it up to the crowd just to show them how fun big asses can be. They’d love it… Until a small child got stuck in the crack without me knowing, almost suffocating to death as the EMTs chased the ass around in circles. And really, folks, EMTs chasing ass? Not too far from the truth. Now, a child getting stuck in the ass? Well, that’s just an unfortunate and unforeseen circumstance of the costume I’ve created in my head. Thank you, stream of consciousness.

In another aspect, I see myself rallying to get people to do what makes them happy – to pursue happiness no matter what that may be. This costume is leaps and bounds harder to envision – perhaps a cross between Mr. Rogers and a prostitute (Did I just say that? Holy hell!). Oh, wait, what was that quote I heard this weekend? “If you give it away for free then you aren’t a prostitute.” Okay, maybe Mr. Rogers and Blanche Devereaux from The Golden Girls then.

This bus has veered off route. To get it back on track, my point was that I think we’re all mascots for something – what are you a mascot for? What do you want to be a mascot for? What’s stopping you from doing it?

I will leave you with this – the quintessential picture of last weekend. Shot just as the game finished, one sad lobster and two happy hot dogs:


I just can’t stop smiling!

1 comment:

DayGlo Divine said...

Poor lobster. I just wanna hug him. But he probably would have pinched me with those claws.