Fanscots of Glory

This weekend, Ben and I had the enormous privilege of being invited to the official NFL Fanscot reunion, held in scenic Canton, Ohio (home of the Football Hall of Fame-- because that's right, bitches, we have two halls of fame to your none, unless you live somewhere where there's a hall of fame, which you probably don't).

This was due, in large part, to the fact that Ben's sister is dating the Philadelphia Eagles' fanscot Birdman, who, in real life, is an awesome guy named Joe. Awesome enough, in fact, to lend us these Birdman beaks and masks, so we could experience the sensation of being a fanscot, if only for a few moments. (The sensation was that of being stared at a lot.)

Following the Hall of Fame parade (in which many bands appeared, although none of the trombonists had the good sense to keep their horns up, nor did any of them perform horn swings, much to my chagrin), we went back to the hotel where the fanscots were staying. There, each fanscot had decorated his or her door with team paraphernalia-- Joe, for instance, was stationed across from the Hogettes, who had covered their door with Hog Balls. Which is highly upsetting.

Throughout the day, I learned many interesting things about the Fanscots-- what they do, where they live, what they look like without their pope hats on. I learned that Big Dawg was at a wedding and couldn't make it (although a very strange fellow named Brownie the Elvis Elf was there in his stead, giving me horrible Aurora Greenman flashbacks), so that kind of dashed my hopes of meeting my own personal Browns Fanscot, although Joe promised to arrange a meeting one of these days, which will probably just make me pass out, because I have a weird mascot fetish that I don't care to discuss.

All in all, I learned that Fanscots really are just normal people. Who really, really like football. And dressing up. Which, when you really think about it, couldn't that be said about any one of us?

It lives

I really am sorry for the lack of communication lately-- I know I got on a roll there for awhile, and even extricated myself from the You Should Blog More section of Pen and M's blog. But I am sorry to report that absolutely nothing of interest has happened to me lately, with the exception of the following things:

1. Ben's sister and her boyfriend are coming tomorrow to take us to the Football Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Which, as you know, I would not normally find interesting. But it just so happens that Becki's boyfriend is the Philadelphia Birdman, Eagles superfan of high local acclaim (so I am told-- as a some-time Browns fan, I recognize only the superfandom of Big Dawg). I have been informed that there will be many other superfans there, which will allow me to indulge in my lifelong love of mascots, both official and unofficial.

2. I picked up a copy of my mentor Joe Mackall's newest book, "Plain Secrets," which is about the Amish. I happen to love the Amish for many reasons, among them the fact that I personally know two people that lost their virginity to an Amish, which you have to admit is totally interesting. Anyway, I will read this book soon, in theory, so long as I do not first die from a massive paper-cutter wound while attempting to assemble the final pieces parts of my invitations. But you should read the book right now. Go on! What are you waiting for? You're not going to learn about the Amish sitting here reading this! Except for the fact that, aside from the virginity thing, I'm also obsessed with the Amish because they got rollerblades before I did, which I thought was totally unfair.

But other than that, my life has mostly consisted of handwriting addresses onto envelopes, struggling to learn how to print things on both sides of a piece of paper ("Why the fuck is it printing upside down now? I will kill you, bastard printer of Hades!"), and staring forlornly at my bike, who it appears will remain locked in my garage for the rest of the summer.