And people from Chicago say we Southerners are backwards

A Boy, His Balloon & His Mullet, originally uploaded by JaseMan.

Gleaming the Cube

Man in the Box
Originally uploaded by JaseMan.

Milestones come and go. Many are more important than others, but few are as epic as turning 30, the new 16, like two of my good friends did this weekend. LaBronn & Red (real names, not aliases - aliasi, aliasuses?) have been celebrating births together for the past 10 years. Ain't no way I was gonna miss this one after having missed so many before, including the talent show.

Both kids live in E-town (Evanston for y'all who don't speak-uh da Engrish) and are relatively respectable, intelligent, coherent, zesty ladies from roughly 9 to 5 during the week. Zesty takes over after hours and results in relatively harmless hijinx consisting of fodder for stories during my upcoming time in a retirement home.

K.L. (not the city, but Red's spouse) and Beth (LaBronn's sister) collaborated to throw quite a shindig in Chicago last night. Both ladies are 80's junkies and frequently make-up excuses to dress up, like going to church or "hey, it's Wednesday!" So, the party theme was 80's and costumes were required.

I first developed the idea of dressing up like a Rubik's Cube after this kid in New York developed it for me. Thanks, Fred. The instructions were clear, and K.L. had a drill.

The real trick was finding the foam core. I called every art supply joint in the Midwest and was fortunate to find the right gear in downtown Chicago, which is only 12 miles from The E. Those of you who live in Houston probably think, "Huh. That's a trip to the bathroom." Those of you who live in Chicago probably think, "Holy shit. That'll take three hours. Are you prepared to get a hotel room?"

K.L., Fugett & I hopped in the Jetta to hit the art store and pick up costumes for other folks. The art store was a stop & grab trip. I bought the last stock of what I needed, which was just the right amount. And, thank God they had a matte board cutter to slice the foam core into strips or else I would have been taking my loot home via the Purple Line and the Loop.

Rag Stock is a killer used clothing / hipster fashion mecca that features reprint Run DMC t-shirts that sell for $30. Fugett got one; I'm jealous. They've got lots of cool stuff and could outfit a small army of groupies for The Strokes or Death Cab or some other tragically hip emo creation.

Hey ladies, I'm calling out to ya to tell you that you should never send three guys to any store to buy you any type of apparel besides the kind that fits in a super small box and is made to be taken off about five minutes after we see it, which is when we're not listening to you explain what might happen and what ain't gonna happen, particularly if you are planning to dress up like a Spice Girl who we've only thought about in naked situations. We finally bought one of the first outfits we spotted after 30 minutes, some picture messages, four phone calls and a pump-fake at the cash register.

The cube came together surprisingly fast thanks to Fred, K.L. and Jewel. Construction took about three hours. ROI was high once the dickhead doorman finally realized that 147 people showing up to a private party at their bar was a good thing and that the birthday girls may kick his chunky ass if he didn't let me in. Who give's a shit if the other CCR (Cross Canadian Ragweed) was playing there that night? Coulda been the Pope (old pope, not new pope) - wouldn't changed a thing.

Getting a cab back to Evanston was only slightly, think frog hair, easier than finding a cab from the Quarter to Mid City. Maybe it was my Saints t-shirt? The Cube was actually hot and pretty good at blocking the wind so I elected to go sans jacket. Like milk, it was a bad choice. K.L., Fugett & I ended the night by tackling a cab in the middle of heavy snow in the windiest, coldestest intersection in the city. Each of us had been carrying a piece of the box, which we sacrificed to the street corner in only .28 seconds after realizing it wouldn't fit in the trunk.

I'd just like to say "Thanks again" to Red & K.L. for hosting me all weekend. I'd also like to say "You're welcome" to the homeless guy who's now living in a custom made condo tiled with construction paper. If it can handle being freaked by four chicks at the same time, it can handle a winter in Chicago. Just be sure you patch-up that hole in the roof.

A Cubs Fan in Houston

Last week, Houston became a hub for baseball as the game's big leaguers hit town for the Major League All-Star Game. Local sport fanatics transformed from Astros fans to fans of The Game, at least for the week's festivities. In fact, Houston baseball fans were so generous they refrained from boos even after Miguel Tejada beat Lance Berkman in the Home Run Derby.

So with that in mind, I can think of no better time to confess that I am a Chicago Cubs fan. Houston, calm down. I realize that it doesn't make sense, but allow me to explain.

It was the early 1980s and I was just discovering professional baseball. My best friend, Clay, was a fan of Nolan Ryan and thus an Houston Astros fan. I didn't know who Nolan Ryan was much less who he played for. All I knew was the Astros were in Texas along with the Dallas Cowboys, the regional rivals of my New Orleans Saints.

Those Astros were evil since they were based in the same state as the Cowboys. Only later would I realize that Dallas in general was the root of all evil, not the whole state of Texas. However, it would be too late to salvage that 'Stros fandom.

Shortly after explaining to Clay that the Astros were evil by mere association, cable television arrived in Baton Rouge--and I was saved! Not only did this latch key kid now have thirteen channels of broadcasts to explore, but I discovered 'da Cubs.

Let's flashback, Wayne's World style.

I convinced my mom to let me stay home instead of KinderCare imprisoned with the rest of those elementary school refugees. "Don't leave the house," and "Keep this door locked until I get home," my mom warned.

What was I supposed to do?

Watch the superstations: ChiPs on WTBS,then flip to the Cubs on WGN.

I watched the Braves on WTBS, but that didn't work for me. Everything on WTBS started at five after the hour. Ted Turner is such a genius. Although I'm uncertain whether the five after rule was a better idea than marrying Jane Fonda.

Besides that five minute debacle, the Cubs had the late, great Harry Caray on the mic. Those Braves never had a chance. Harry Caray and the Cubs of the mid-80s were easy to like. The banter between Caray and his partner, Steve Stone, was classic. Show me a person that didn't think Harry Caray's "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" was entertaining. I'll show you someone that should visit McCarthy's Committee on Un-American Activities.

Those days were much better than today's carousel of no-talent yahoos cycling through the Press Box during the seventh inning stretch. Sure, Caray was very entertaining, but the Cubs of the early 80's weren't half bad either. They won the division in 1984. The line-up was formidable: Leon Durham, Ron Cey, Jody Davis, Andre Dawson, Shawon Dunston and Ryne Sandberg, the original #23 from Chicago.

That was back in the 80s. You were living in Louisiana and didn't know any better. Why aren't you an Astros fan now after having lived here for six years?

Great question. I'm not really sure.

Maybe it is because I like being a pain in the butt, which my mom will substantiate. I tried being an Astros fan during spring training. But, who can give up on twenty-two years of being a Cubs fan just like that?

I'd fight my fleeting allegiance to the Houston Astros by renewing my vows to Ernie Banks and the Cubs with a trip to Wrigley Field. I even bought a new Cubs hat.

When my roommate, Bartley, converted to the Astros in 1999, I told him that I liked the Astros. They're the home town team, and they're not half bad--if you don't count getting swept by the Cubs during their four game home stand.

The Astros are a star-laden (Biggio, Bagwell, Berkman, Clemens, Pettite, Beltran) franchise with potential to stay ahead of the Pittsburg Pirates. Even my Chicago friends agree that the Astros are a great team. My buddy, Mr. T (not the A-Team guy),who lives in a building behind Wrigley Field, said he cheers for the Astros whenever they weren't playing the Cubs. That's my stance too.

That is if it is not during Wild Card time.

I will be a Cubs fan forever or at least until I am the Mayor of Houston or I buy the Astros. Now if the Cubs or the Astros could just beat the St. Louis Cardinals all would be right in the world.

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This was originally posted on TheBackWord.com, a Texas-centric eZine that has gone the way of the jackalope.