Monday night, while I was dressing for my date with Fernando, Carl from the Schmooze rang. Of course I gave him my phone number. I didn’t know he was nuts. DooWop Guy shoulda warned me before I went out for the fag. “Yo! Bi-polar Guy. How’s life in the heavily medicated lane?” We chatted pleasantly enough. He was intrigued that I am so exotic – I am from distant Philadelphia. “Your accent is really cute” he mumbled. Maybe it was the Melaril or some other psychotropic drug. “I don’t HAVE an accent” I said with my Philly ‘Tude. Thank God for Ron and Georgia, the Cleveland Browns, the Cavaliers, the Ohio State Buckeyes (I can’t believe I actually said that) and whoever the hell the mayor is of Cleveland. He asked me out for Saturday night. I was able to say, truthfully, that I was away for Thanksgiving.
I had a really nice date with Cuban Guy. I think he may be a keeper. And no, he has not said ‘You look mar-ve-lous!” to me … yet. I kinda wish he would; what with that accent and everything. And of course, I always do. Look marvelous, I mean. It just happens.
I bid a tearful farewell to Scary Fairy (I’m sure she missed me too). Scary bet me five bucks that I would meet a guy in Cleveland and not come back on Monday. The only interesting guy I met was at the airport, and he was from Topeka, which, of course, would not do at all.
Cleveland was positively brilliant, even though it was bloody cold and it snowed the whole goddamned time I was there. My friend Georgia’s grandson, Roy, picked me up at the airport and whisked me to Brunswick, which is a very posh suburb of Cleveland.
Ron and Georgia live in what is known on this side of the pond as a ‘McMansion’. Their house is bigger than some hotels I have stayed in. In fact, I had a whole wing of the house to myself. Georgia had made lunch, and then we spent the afternoon just catching up on family news and gossip. Roy went to pick up his girlfriend so she could meet me, and then Roy’s mom and his sister came over too. The Zinfy flowed, there was college football on telly, it was great.
On Wednesday, Georgia was going to do her Thanksgiving baking and, for some reason, wanted me out of her kitchen. I offered to help. Really. She craftily suggested that Roy and I head for the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, and stay there until it closed. Not a problem.
One of my favorite things – and if anyone wants to know what to get me for Christmas – there’s this painting of Chuck Bednarik. He’s wearing knight’s armour, but in his arm, instead of a mask and plume, he’s holding an Eagles helmet. As everyone knows, Chuck was the original ‘Sixty Minute Man’. Note to Cheese Boy: Don’t get depressed and pout. Ask Jarvo or Mike to explain it to you. Anyway, for those of you who are not springing for Louis V. for me this Xmas, a copy of Chuck would work.
In the Inductees Hall, Roy and I touched Tommy McDonald’s bust and took snaps. Like when the blokes were visiting KofP and I introduced them to Tommy, I took Roy to Tommy’s house when he was staying with us, he got to see all Tommy’s memorabilia from Oklahoma and the Eagles, he tried on the rings, and we took lots of pictures. Roy said that whenever he sees the commercial on TV for the Hall of Fame (It shows Tommy throwing his bust up in the air and catching it) he can’t believe that he actually met him. They eventually threw us out because they wanted to close. “But I want to see ‘Monsters of the Gridiron’ again” I whined through my tears.
We got back to Brunswick to discover that Georgia had managed to bake a bunch of pumpkin pies, without any help from me. On Thanksgiving Day, I was told to take my coffee into the Great Room, and stay out of the way. Hmph. I was allowed to set the dining room table for dinner and light the candles. There were ten of us for dinner, and Georgia made an incredible meal, including First Lady Laura Bush’s Sweet Potato Puree. She gave me the recipe. Ha! Ha! Anybody who laughed (and I know who you are) will be forced to eat gallons of it when I come home to Weybridge and you all throw me a big party. Because I’m going to make it. Where do you get sweet potatoes? Do they come from the ground like jacket ones?
Friday was a day of rest and repentance. We grazed on leftovers in front of the telly in our pjs. There was lots more college football, of course, and way too much food.