March weddings and I are not amigos. Back in 2007, I missed the Final Four because of a wedding, and I still haven't completely gotten over it. It's tough to fully commit to the Electric Slide mentally when you know that somewhere March Madness is going on, right that very moment, without you.
When Russell first told me his wedding date, the best I could do at pretending to be excited was to let out a "Say whaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!" I was pretty much inconsolable for a couple days, until I realized that March Madness was starting a bit late this year, and didn't officially begin until the following weekend, so it was only the conference tournaments that I would be missing. I can live with that. Russell is just lucky his wedding wasn't scheduled one week later, during the Big Dance (and I'm not talking about The Macarena). Actually, I'm the lucky one, since I don't have to come up with an awkward excuse to skip his wedding that isn't "I'm going to be watching basketball for 12-13 hours a day, for four consecutive days, just like I've done basically every year for the last twenty-four years.....soooo I'm probably not gonna be able to make it. You can find another groomsman, right? Hey, by the way, congrats!"
So anyway, I'm headed up to northern Minnesota to celebrate the blessed union of Russell and Angie. At least I won't be missing 75 degree weather in Kansas while I'm gone. Oh wait.
(Seriously though, I am excited for this wedding.)
((Also seriously, though, if this wedding was happening during the NCAA tournament.....))
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You know it's officially March when Bill Self has been prominently involved in my dreams three out of the last four nights. Don't worry, they weren't sex dreams (not that there's anything wrong with that). We just enjoyed a nice round of golf at Ray Richard's in one of them, went off-roading in his Range Rover in another (that was by far the weirdest one) and argued over which movie was better, Aladdin or The Lion King (no, seriously, the Range Rover dream was weirder). I definitely have too much basketball on the brain. And maybe too many Disney movies, too.
"Aladdin? Are you bullshitting me? ALADDIN? Bro, that's a musical. Straight up. The Lion King has songs, yeah, but they get you jacked up. Tell me you can listen to 'The Circle of Life' and hear that last slam-the-door note, and you're not ready to punch through a fucking wall. I play that song in the locker room before big games, dude. True story. Aladdin is for children. You can still bring a girl home, put in Lion King, and without even trying that hard, you're gonna touch a boob at the very least.....Aladdin is for babysitting. Aladdin is for calming the kids down and getting them to take a nap so you can put your feet up, throw in a rub, and change the channel to baseball or pro wrestling or the X Games or something. Grow up, Peter Pan. Click your heels together three times and go home, Dorothy."
