The following day I was called back; they wanted me to start working the following Monday. Due to prior appointments that needed wrapping up, I would not be able to begin until a week later.
My prior appointments can be summarized in two words: March Madness. Not even a new job was going to prevent me from watching the first round of the NCAA Men’s Basketball tournament in its broadcast entirety.
I have yet to work those days since. Last week I took my third consecutive Thursday/Friday off in order to watch as much basketball possible.
Thursday was a great day:
For reasons I can not publicly say (let alone privately admit) beating the University of Kentucky sent a wave of transcendental bliss throughout my being.
Saturday was a bad day:
I had to watch the game at a Sports Bar in Palatine. It was the first time and last time I will ever step foot in that establishment. Not only is it because the site is engraved with the memory of an end to a season of Marquette Basketball, but also it was the scene to a horrible instance of my beloved Father facing my reaction to the game’s ugly shrapnel. (the place is also an utter dump gutter dump)
Thank God I didn’t have to go into work the next day. Not even the Resurrection of my Lord was able to lift my spirits. But I’m getting there. Still coping with the loss.
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The TV Room of my parents’ house needs to be filmed for a television series. I’m picturing something between Public Access and C-SPAN 2. A lot like that EWTN show with the nun at the table - I just want one camera with a fixed "two-shot" of my Mom and Dad.
Sitting the way they always sit. My Mother on the left and my Father on the right. That’s how they appear to me when I look at them from the couch. And that’s how they’ll sound politically. Well, one at least.
"P.A.T.: Political Armchair Talk"
"With Patti Quiery, joined by her husband Dan."
"Today’s episode, like all the rest, will include Patti’s presidential campaign breakdown and her analysis of the media’s coverage."
You see, my Mom is constantly talking about what she saw on Morning Joe, Hardball and Ballot Bowl. She comments on the political coverage from three newspapers. She watches the Sunday Morning Roundtable shows when they first air and their repeat airings.
All in hopes of eliciting a reaction from my Father. All for naught. My Father has yet to volunteer any political views (with the exception of his run for Prospect Heights Alderman in 1999).
The show will end when my Father finally can’t stand it anymore and walks out of frame.
However, as the credits, he will have an "Andy Rooney" type segment called:
Catasta-stroke of the Week
This is one of my favorite terms invented by my Dad which blends the disaster of a catastrophe with the seriousness of a medical stroke.
This week’s example would probably be his son yelling at him in a public place. Just because the poor guy’s son was unable to sit still and provide him with an unblocked view of a basketball’s deciding play.
