The B12 (XII) Forum, home of the 'Front Porch, y'all' at College Football Fan Site, CFB51!!!

I always carry cash

but, I was born in 1962

Well, Franky, you're the kind of feller who's liable to end up in a dark place with girls on poles so I can kind of see why you might want to have a little cash.
The rest of us avoid cash so we won't end up in a dark place with girls on poles.

You may be right.  I may be crazy.  But it keeps me from going insane.

I just mashed up two songs like taters.

that'll get you a case of Bud Heavy!

I’ve been going to Texas high school football games all my life and it is interesting to me how thry have changed and how they haven’t.

In an age in which we strive for gender equality, high school football games still celebrate the differences.  The boys playing are the biggest and brawniest, decked out like warriors in pads and helmets.  In a gentle world abhored by violence, well timed hits are still celebrated.

Meanwhile the drill teams still celebrate a conformity to femine sexuality. These young women may be indiviuals with complex thoughts and feelings 6 days a week, but on Friday nights they’re fembots with shimmering hair, radiant make up, sparkling little dresses, long smooth legs, silly hats and boots made for walking.

Things have changed though.  

At one time it seemed like the band, the cheerleaders and the dance team were all pulling for the football team.  And every game sesms to start off that way but devolves into a three ring circus where each group is into their own thing and oblivious to the game in the backdrop.

The drill team goes home in the 3rd quarter, but not before they’ve danced with the drum line in front of the students’ section.

That noisy celebration would be a cool thing if the opposition had the ball but oftentimes it’s while their very own team is trying to make a crucial drive to start the second half.  If the offense has ro convert a 3rd and long, 5e frenzied drum line and drill team are making more noise than the opposing crowd could ever make because the football game is completely irrelevant to their own celebration of fun and youth.

Then the drill team goes home and the band goes deep into an end zone to practice its dreary dramatic overblown and uninspiring presentation for competition.

If the team scores a touchdown or mounts the greatest rally in the history of football it’s without the school song because the band doesn’t care. They too preoccupied with their own dismal existence.

And it’s not just the high school my kids go to, it’s all the high schools.

The players play hard, huddle up to pray together and line up to respect each other’s school song.  While the team is paying their respects and even lifting their helmets in salute to a worthy adversary their cheerleaders are on the sidelines counting out the points the team scored.

Crazy.

Hooky I noticed the same thing but I lack the eloquence to describe it as you do so well. 
Is funny. A lot of the grownups are confused about their roles and which bathroom to use etc but most of the kids have it figured out. 

I still see Dennis on facebook sometimes, and more than once I've had an overwhelming urge to send him a message to the effect of "HA!  I GOT THE GIRL!!!!"  

Confirming my suspicions that I was utterly unspectacular as a kid, my wife doesn't remember any of this.  She remembers the trip to GA, vaguely remembers Dennis, and me not at all.  

Loved this.  Both the story and the outcome.  And, something tells me your buddy Dennis knows that you got the girl.

That phrase sparks my memory on something else in my past.  So, here's another TL-DR ...  

The year of my courtship with my Argentine lass in the DFW area had all sorts of interesting encounters with the Latin community.  Folks from South American countries may be unfriendly rivals back home, but when they come to the States, they tend to form communities of folks.  My Argentine gf had friends from all over - Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Guatamala, Bolivia, Costa Rica, and a ton from Brasil (including the wife of the couple that introduced us).  

So, that year there were all sorts of mini-tests of Latin American maleness that I had to pass, like surviving endless conversations (in Spanish of course, and for me the language was all OJT) at various bars and restaurants, dancing (all Latin guys know how), knowledge of Latin music (also OJT, and my gf was a huge fan of Brasilian jazz, and she led a group in hosting Jose Neto, a guitarist we saw with Flora Purim and Airto, over for breakfast in the wee hours after they played a set at the Dallas Hard Rock one night) ... and so forth.

And in particular there was this one eloquent friend from Ecuador whom we all called El Presidente, because he had such a regal manner, serious expression, and a deep knowledge of politics, history, culture, you name it.  He would always address me formally as "mister" as he began to make a point about some failure of US policy or culture, egging me into yet another argument (with a gleam in his eye). 

Okay, let me put this another way, my gf was the center of a lot of interest of perhaps a dozen or more Latin American guys in the DFW area (all of whom went to UT-Arl) and now here comes this gringo and just wtf.  Not that they ever said this, but that was the tone.  And El Presidente led the charge.  These subtle and not so subtle tests happened pretty much every weekend, until it was really clear that despite all logic and reason (and me playing out of my league) to the contrary, we really were a couple.

And I have to give El Presidente his due, because whenever I did something he thought was right in terms of courtship, he always gave me credit.  One time for example she mentioned offhand that she really wanted to get some plants into her apartment, and so I went to the father of a friend of mine in east Tx who was a master garderner type, and got his advice on what would be the best plants for her apartment (considering the light available etc) and left four potted plants at her doorstep one day with a cheery note of something like "can I come live with you?"  El Presidente told her this was a brilliant move.  Then another time I brought my guitar and offered to serenade her (all I could do back then was play chords of some favorites, but that was good enough - she loved it) and he once again complimented me when he heard about it, saying I was living up to the Latin ideal of a worthy suitor.

Then fast forward to the time leading up to our wedding in DC, and El Presidente had also moved to this area, and we were out having drinks with him and his gf (whom he married later too), and after having a few and talking about the "old days" in DFW ...  El Presidente raised a beer to me and saying, "well, mister, here's to you, because you got the girl!"

Buen hombre, that El Presidente.  

Yes it’s true.  I wasn’t familiar with him prior to that night, but he was amazing.  What stuck me most was his range of instruments, several new (to me) types of drums, gourds, bells, etc.  

Jose Neto was also a trip.  So smooth.  

Brazilian jazz.  Exhilarating stuff.

And back a few pages I made comment the only place outside of the arena or outside my own mind about doing the right thing.

Tomorrow morning my attorney and I sit with the team of attorneys from a 55k+ employee company worth billions and discuss waste fraud and abuse by people from their senior vice president ranks........ I blew the hell out of that whistle... Do they squash me or do I get their attention along with a chunk of their asses?  Here is the thing I'm thinking makes them most uneasy, and its the truth: it aint about money from my vantage... Its about principle and legacy... And it's because fuck them, thats why.

so just an update about this... as this is the ONLY place i've shared anything about it.. my family isn't even privy to details.
so far they've investigated and fired the president of the former company who was in a senior executive vice role at that point (in the new/merged company)- the senior executive contracts vice president, the head of HR, the senior executive vp who i indicated was the 'mafia' boss, the deputy program manager of the program i'm part of, and the regional manager- by all indications they aren't done yet.  they caught them red handed destroying documents, altering dates on other documents, and destroying entire files/folders.   as you may guess i am not real popular right now except with those who silently sat by and watched over the years, and they avoid me in public but are quick to thumbs up in private... i still don't know what they're going to do with me, but i know if they don't remove several others from their instruments i'm a dead man walking within days/months of this things conclusion...
punch line:  i haven't given up a single byte of several gigabytes of 'evidence' i've collected.  they know i have it, but at my attorney's request i held it only describing 'some' of it to them- they took it and ran, and found what i described and then some.  my attorney tells me it's "up to you" how it will resolve in my case....... i noticed he's frothing a little at the mouth.... which brings me to: I hate lawyers- not that they exist or who they are, but that they find purchase in the realm that exists between letter of the law and spirit of the law, and that we still need them around to 'practice' interpreting it... my wife is one of them... many of my friends are 'them', or worse- judges... i just want to see the right thing done... I hope it is in the end, especially in this little 'case'.... i'm four months into this at this point- and i walk a damn perilous path... but as i continue to say to those who are now a part of it (on the good side) "just tell truth, nothing more nothing less, do what you're supposed to nothing less and often more, and stand for something, and you'll be fine".  
add to all of this a helluva storm we're still cleaning up on- I hate that too- and.... it's been a damn interesting year that has failed to offer whether it's a 'good' one or a 'bad' one yet..... and i hate that too.