Davidson Cup

The Class of 97 Davidson crew joined forces once again for the first ever Davidson Cup - a series of events that pitted half of us against the other. We farkled months ago for teams. I lost to Macon Stokes over the phone, so I was on Team Black. Team Red was made up of the winners.

However, as it played out...I'm getting ahead of myself. We unfortunately had some last minute cancellations. Those who made the trip to Athens, GA were Will "the commish" Baldwin (the host), Team Red: Pat "It's all about the closing speed" Fernando, Qilai "smoke 'em if you got 'em" Shen, Rick "beware the chicken wing" Apgar, and Rix "I only sink the hard putts" Threadgill, vs. Team Black: Hayes "Mr. Davidson, Mr. Denver, Mr. Pretty Much Wherever" Trotter, Clyde "I bike Heartbreak Hill for breakfast" Wright, Brian "Never Underestimate the Goose" Luskey, and Me.

Round One Friday night was Poker. Head to Head. The chips were against us. Hayes and Clyde had never played before. I bluff as good as I can dunk. It wasn't going to be pretty. Somehow we eeked out a tie. Part of the game was to decide who got to sleep where. I slept on the family futon, so you know where I measured up.

Saturday, we started the lawn game portion of the competition, Bocce and Croquet. Hayes and I had a strong lead in Bocce before Apgar remembered that he played college baseball and deadeyed the jack ten rounds in a row. We lost 21-17. I wasn't planning on losing in croquet before the bocce debacle, but I was definitely not going to lose croquet now. Hayes and I put on a demonstration. It was off to Frisbee Golf. Skins format. Split in pairs Team Black was in the black for both rounds. Hayes and Clyde blanked their opponents; Goose and I won 15-3. Our only slip happened when Rix sunk this prayer putt from the bottom of a ravine, and I missed from ten feet. After a little football watching over adult beverages we entered the arcade potion of the Cup. We played some frozen tundra putt putt, then pop-a-shot, to finish up with air hockey. Despite Fernando's dagger shots during pop-a-shot, Team Black by the end of the night had an insurmountable lead going into the final day.

Sunday had three events: paintball, kickball, and Scrabble. I've only paintballed once in my life. I didn't do it again because I didn't like it. The thing is I didn't like me. Nothing against the paint or the balls. But you put a gun in my hand, and I turn into something I don't like. Case in point. First round. Fernando was coming at my bunker to "knock" me out of the game. I shot him in the head. Then after he stopped, I shot him again in the groin. And then again in the groin. And so on. I think I shot him six times in the groin before I got a hold of myself. Kickball was less violent. But Scrabble was a no holds barred death match. In the end. Team Black was victorious.

Great fun was had by all. Again, no camera, no pictures. But Hayes and Will did take some video. The DVD is forthcoming. Davidson Cup II will be in the fall of 2014. Clyde is in charge. Destination TBA.

Washington D.C.

Sorry, the next two entries will have no pictures. But even without the visuals, they are worthy of a report. The weekend of the 17th, Lia and I drove up to Washington D.C. for a wedding slash pediatric convention slash our first weekend without children since David was born.

It was a fantastic time. Even with the rain. I had it in my mind that I was going to go on a bike ride and so I did (along with many other Washingtonians I might add (It was the annual Bike the Capital Day)). Once you got going you could hardly tell that the wind chill was below 40 degrees. The next day, no rain. Lia and I ran around the National Mall. I did a similar loop the following morning in the sunshine.

We slept.

We also had the honor of attending Robbie and Kelly Mills wedding. The ceremony was in a small Episcopal church in Georgetown. The reception was on the river. I can't remember the name of the place, but its insides looked like the inside of a cruise ship to me. We danced and ate and talked and laughed and I felt a little bit old because I thought the music was too loud. But what a time! I don't think I have the words to express the joy I was feeling. I just love Robbie Mills.

Adding to the allure of the Capital was the fact that Lia had just finished Dan Brown's new book, and I was in the midst of it. It was pretty amazing to read something and then look out the window and see it.

The highlight, at least the most wild moment, occurred the final morning. I finished my run and started packing our stuff. We needed to leave at 10am in order to get back to Winston in time to make the Young Life banquet (I had a role). However, as I biked my bike over to the parking garage this cop stops me and tells me to go back to where I came from. They had found a suspicious package in the garage. they were shutting off the whole area. I explained that I had to get to my car because I had a performance to get to. She didn't give a rat's tail. The FBI guy who overheard me was more compassionate. He started talking into his collar about me. Next thing I know I've got three FBI dudes who have made it their mission to get me into that parking garage. I packed the rest of my stuff. Could there really be a bomb? I wondered. It was then I realized that the hotel we were staying in was also serving as the temporary Iraqi embassy and that particular morning, the Iraqi government was hosting a business summit at the hotel! Two hundred of the most influential, powerful Iraqi's were standing in the lobby. I got to get out of here, I thought. So I get my stuff and take the elevator down. The guy in the elevator was a teenager, shaggy hair 6'3", 125lbs, carrying his bags to the cab. I put my bags in the car, and as I get back, the FBI asks me if this bag on the curb was mine. I say, "No." He gets red and starts talking into his collar. So I say, "I know the guy. He's harmless." FBI guy tells me if I can't find him, he's going to put the hotel on lockdown. I run back to the room. Lia had returned from her meeting by now, and I say, "Let's get the heck out of Dodge." I get in the elevator. Teenage guy is standing there with round two of his bags. I take him to the FBI. I carry our bags to the car, and we slip out just in the nick of time.

The County Fair Conundrum

I can't decide whether the county fair is the greatest or worst thing America has to offer. Here in Winston-Salem we have the Dixie Classic Fair. It is classic. It's got the rides, the games, the food, the celebs...Rick Flair made an appearance Saturday Night! Rick Flair! Sure, the guy hit his prime twenty years ago, but would you arm wrestle him? There is a lot about the fair that feels a bit twenty years ago. The thing is I can't decide whether to call it dated or vintage. That's the conundrum. Is it awesome that I can ride the very same Zipper that I rode when I was a teenager? Or is it troubling?

My kids think the fair is cool. And there is not a little joy in that. David rode his very first Ferris wheel. The Ferris wheel carny did make me pay for him. It cost $16 for the family to have the three minute experience. But hey. He rode a Ferris wheel.

Daisy and Anna Rose went on a pony ride. That was cool. It was Daisy's first time ever in the saddle. That was cool. I stepped in poo. That was not cool.

Then there's the elephant ears. Where I grew up, we called them funnel cakes. They call them funnel cakes down here, too. It just depends which row you are walking down as to what they are called. I bought the family a funnel cake. I told A-Ro it was an elephant ear. We all partook. Ravenously. Until about halfway through when we all got stomachaches. The worst part - it tasted so good, we just kept on eating. It was awful. I never felt so sick in my life.

Then there are the carnies. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice that we can provide decent employment for men and women with felonies on their record. Who knows, I might need a job someday. It's just...I don't know what I'm saying...I guess to me it's just a little unsettling that we give them the controls to the Viking Ship.

And the germs. At Lia's office, the Dixie Classic Fair is the unofficial official beginning to the flu season. From 8-10am, her practice provides a walk-in clinic. The week before the Dixie, they averaged about 30 patients. The Monday after the first weekend of the Dixie, they saw 88.

But then, there's this.