Since you asked:
One of the many games I play when driving around with my six-year-old daughter, Ann Caroline, is what I call Bad Singing. This is when a song comes on the ol’ classic rock station and I howl along purposefully and decidedly off key veritably screeching, much to Ann Caroline’s bemusement. This is what I was doing yesterday when Ann Caroline commented:
“It’s a good thing you’re not trying to sing at the Oprah.”
She meant Opera. Great, I’m raising my very own Norm Crosby. Make no mistake about it, she doesn’t get it from me. I am a proud alumnus of the University of California at Santa Barbara. I even gradualated and everything like that there, 'n stuff.
Go Gaucho Gold.
Hey, the Lady Gauchos are playing on ESPN today. Check your schedules. Lady Gaucho? That means a female male South American cowboy. What the heck do South American bandits have to do with going to college in amazingly beautiful Santa Barbara? These guys swill wine all day out of the bottle and sleep wherever they pass out. OK, now I am starting to get the connection.
Did I ever tell you my Gaucho mascot story? It’s been a while.
Prior to a big U.C.S.B. homecoming men’s basketball game, they announce that, at halftime, they are going to unveil our brand new Gaucho mascot. Umm, OK?
Sure enough, some guy in a frilly cowboy suit that Richard Simmons would call queer, trots out to center court. My buddies and I trade wildly skeptical looks, but, we thought, maybe this guy is some amazing gymnast and will fly through the air and somersault through the hoop. Let’s give him a chance, being our line of thinking at the time.
This clown stands there at center court with his little cowboy hat complete with little dangling balls – heh, heh, he said dangling balls – puffs out his lace-ridden vested chest and waits for his big introduction. The P.A. guy booms;
“Ladies and Gentleman, we’d now like to introduce to you your new mascot, Gary Gaucho (or something equally as stupid)
The guy takes five running strides forward and then, as the crowd collectively holds its breath, he leaps maybe, and I mean maybe, four inches off of the ground and lands in the stupidest Tah Dah pose you’ve ever seen and then just stands there, fringed-jacketed arms aloft waiting to bask in our applause.
For a couple of moments, the crowd sat in an actual stunned silence, mouths agape, dumbstruck at how lame this was. And then, as one voice, came the loudest and most contempt-laden boos you’ve ever heard. This poor gay Zorro-wannabe was then pelted with anything and everything the crowd could throw: beer, beer cans, cups, popcorn, shoes. I’m not positive but I like to imagine there was at least one beach ball also.
Sadly, this was the first and last appearance of Gary the U.C.S.B Gaucho. Whoever that poor dork was, I'm sure he is still in therapy over the incident.
Ahh, good times . . . good times . . . good . . . times.
(Polite applause)
P.S. Don't feel too sorry for Gary Gaucho, I hear he went on to form the band Hoobastank.
One of the many games I play when driving around with my six-year-old daughter, Ann Caroline, is what I call Bad Singing. This is when a song comes on the ol’ classic rock station and I howl along purposefully and decidedly off key veritably screeching, much to Ann Caroline’s bemusement. This is what I was doing yesterday when Ann Caroline commented:
“It’s a good thing you’re not trying to sing at the Oprah.”
She meant Opera. Great, I’m raising my very own Norm Crosby. Make no mistake about it, she doesn’t get it from me. I am a proud alumnus of the University of California at Santa Barbara. I even gradualated and everything like that there, 'n stuff.
Go Gaucho Gold.
Hey, the Lady Gauchos are playing on ESPN today. Check your schedules. Lady Gaucho? That means a female male South American cowboy. What the heck do South American bandits have to do with going to college in amazingly beautiful Santa Barbara? These guys swill wine all day out of the bottle and sleep wherever they pass out. OK, now I am starting to get the connection.
Did I ever tell you my Gaucho mascot story? It’s been a while.
Prior to a big U.C.S.B. homecoming men’s basketball game, they announce that, at halftime, they are going to unveil our brand new Gaucho mascot. Umm, OK?
Sure enough, some guy in a frilly cowboy suit that Richard Simmons would call queer, trots out to center court. My buddies and I trade wildly skeptical looks, but, we thought, maybe this guy is some amazing gymnast and will fly through the air and somersault through the hoop. Let’s give him a chance, being our line of thinking at the time.
This clown stands there at center court with his little cowboy hat complete with little dangling balls – heh, heh, he said dangling balls – puffs out his lace-ridden vested chest and waits for his big introduction. The P.A. guy booms;
“Ladies and Gentleman, we’d now like to introduce to you your new mascot, Gary Gaucho (or something equally as stupid)
The guy takes five running strides forward and then, as the crowd collectively holds its breath, he leaps maybe, and I mean maybe, four inches off of the ground and lands in the stupidest Tah Dah pose you’ve ever seen and then just stands there, fringed-jacketed arms aloft waiting to bask in our applause.
For a couple of moments, the crowd sat in an actual stunned silence, mouths agape, dumbstruck at how lame this was. And then, as one voice, came the loudest and most contempt-laden boos you’ve ever heard. This poor gay Zorro-wannabe was then pelted with anything and everything the crowd could throw: beer, beer cans, cups, popcorn, shoes. I’m not positive but I like to imagine there was at least one beach ball also.
Sadly, this was the first and last appearance of Gary the U.C.S.B Gaucho. Whoever that poor dork was, I'm sure he is still in therapy over the incident.
Ahh, good times . . . good times . . . good . . . times.
(Polite applause)
P.S. Don't feel too sorry for Gary Gaucho, I hear he went on to form the band Hoobastank.
posted by Alex at
11:55 AM
<< Home