The
Athenian Loyalty Dilemma
(continued)
Joe greeted me, saying he knew his friends wouldn't
arrive late to
the party with the 7:45 kickoff, and I uneasily commented that I
thought (hoped) the game might be on in another room... (My plan
was to watch
the game out of the way, and then surface during the commercial breaks
and halftime for snacks. And socializing. Socializing and snacks,
I
meant.) Joe assured me that if the hostess had it her way -- and
she
would have, if her boyfriend, the guy who challenged me upon my
arrival, didn't come down forcefully on the side of the game -- we'd be
watching it upstairs in the nearly unfurnished office space. I
also
mentioned that the soft strains of Sarah McLachlan playing over the
stereo didn't quite match the mute visuals of the football action of
the Georgia-Tennessee players, and Joe's face suddenly showed the
extreme concern of comments like that being overheard and upsetting the
delicate balanced negotiation of refined baby shower evening and
college football buddies and the women who'd set this up, and we both
quickly and quietly nodded in understanding.
So the boyfriend and I staked out the comfy sofa
between the snack
table and the TV, and watched the game. He constantly rode Joe to
stay
and watch the game, because if anything bad happened, it would be
because Joe wasn't watching the game, and Joe, nervously eyeing his
very pregnant wife and her friends, found himself pulled in all sorts
of obligatory guest-of-honor directions.
"When's Chris going to be here?" I asked him.
Oh, Chris wouldn't be here, Joe assured me.
Not with the R.E.M. concert going on, was I crazy?
I said it sounded like he was planning to come.
Nope, not at all, no way, Joe assured me.
And Chris walked in.
He shook some hands, assured Joe that of course he
would be here
instead of the concert -- especially after Reed's bit -- and sat down
on the other side of me on the sofa and started watching the
game. I
murmured to Chris that, y'know, Reed doesn't really like football and
didn't have tickets to the concert (had to get out that bit in case
Reed didn't show, since his family had just moved way outside of
Atlanta, and we didn't know if he'd manage to pull off the drive in
case family obligations sprang up). Chris nodded with a smile,
and the
Dawgs were winning.
Which also presented a teensy problem to the
earlier-mentioned
delicate balance of the evening. Since Georgia was playing an
awesome
game, there were occasions of jumping up and screaming at the TV.
After the first time I did it, I casually glanced behind me and
murmured, "Um... sorry..." The other guests were very kind, and
even
pleasantly asked how the game was going. One particularly loud
outburst during an extremely successful run, however -- at which point
boyfriend guy yelled "GO, BABY! GO, BABY! RUUUUNNN!!!" -- must
not
have been received so well by the hostess, since boyfriend guy looked
behind us and defensively said, "I said 'baby'..."
After a while Reed arrived, with his daughters
Chelsea and Grace,
and bravely announced... but not before nearly dropping his face into
his hands... "I got tickets to R.E.M.!"
He got a last-minute offer, and because of the grief
he'd given
Chris, he couldn't go! Aiggghhhh!!! Joe was just blown over
-- TWO
people had passed up R.E.M. for this gathering.
Where's Leslie, Reed's wife?
Oh, she's at R.E.M., Reed answered. (Later,
little Grace looked up
sweetly at Reed and said, "Why didn't you go to R.E.M.?" He
replied
defensively, "Then you would have had to come to the party by
yourself! I couldn't have that!")
And a splendid time was had by all (with some
incredibly tasty
catered snacks -- everybody was marvelling over the cheesy shrimp
grits), and it was a fine night with friends and football. Even
one of
Joe's oldest and dearest pals, Bob (of Joe, Bob and Chris fame, which
pre-dates the Athens crowd), was there, and he proclaimed during the
football game, "You know what I hate? That Richt is never going
to
leave Georgia!"
"Why should he leave Georgia?" I asked in shock and
horror and
fear, since Mark Richt is the most promising coach my school's had in
at least 20 years.
"Bob went to Tech," Chris muttered to me with a
smile.
Oh. Right.
So it was an awesome weekend for the Athens gang*
(except maybe for Mark, since I have no idea what he did).
Nov '03
But that's not the rest of the story...
Late yesterday afternoon, while I was on a
conference call, the
home line rang, and it was Joe -- who normally doesn't call me, AND the
background had that echo-ey noisy sound. It was a combination
that
could only mean one thing: baby call from the hospital!
Yes, unto us was born yesterday at 6 a.m. (the day
AFTER his
mother's water broke at, like, 2:30 in the afternoon, which should give
you some idea just how much she's gone through beyond UGA football fans
at her baby celebration party), the newest littlest crimestopper,
Emmett Maxwell Schwartz, was born.
And he chose to make his arrival when R.E.M. was in
Scotland, and
the Dawgs had a weekend off. (I see great promise in this
kid.)
*Mike later reported to me on the successful L.A. shindig (dinner for
something like 20 people, including Ed's high school friend and wife
from out of town), and said that his hostess Lori got him and Ed into
Disneyland the following Monday, which thrilled me to no end -- for a
moment. He told me all about the Nightmare Before
Christmas-decorated
Haunted Mansion (two great things that go great together) and brought
me excellently cool souvenirs from the giftshop, but he fell quiet when
I asked about the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. "You DID ride
it,
didn't you?" I asked in shock and horror and fear. "Ed told me to
lie
to you," Mike began, "but I won't do that!" he continued in some
strange attempt to seemingly sound noble, suggesting that not lying
made the aborted Pirates mission excusable. Sigh. (Ed later
confirmed
that, yes, he thought Mike should have taken that to his grave.)
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