Wow! This post marks the one year anniversary of the College Cup Project online! At first, one post per week seemed to give me plenty of time to stay ahead of the curve. But around #40 I realized I had better pick up the pace or I'll run out before I've barely gotten started. Fortunately two huge road trips in the summer of 2009 replenished the supply.
21 May 2008. Entry #53 brings us Pepperdine, a school well-known for its architectural and natural beauty, overlooking the shores of Malibu. The hills will give any visitor a workout, even the God of the Sea.
Neptune sat in his recliner, eating Pringles.
Either his appetite was growing or the chips were shrinking because he polished them off. He tossed the can towards the kitchen. It bounced on the linoleum and rolled under the microwave stand. He sighed. Immortality has its drawbacks.
It was 70 years ago that Neptune was the first great two-sport athlete in Pepperdine University history. He exploded off starting blocks in the fall and lit up the basepaths in the spring.
After centuries of controlling the waves and ruling Atlantis, thinking he had it all, he happened upon Malibu. He discovered competitive swimming and baseball, and fell in love. Neptune was not as omnipotent at swimming as one would think. He actually was quite sedentary, often riding in his dolphin-drawn chariot. At first he had a god complex, but quickly was put in his place by several seniors on the squad. His swimming prowess started to grow, along with his baseball abilities. For his junior and senior years he was assigned to the A team in the pool and team captain in the dugout. His contributions helped put both programs on the map nationally. The school honored him by using his likeness as the team logo.
He graduated a legend.
Over time though, his many records were broken and his name moved further down the list. Men's swimming funding shrank and the program finally was axed. The final blow came when the Neptune logo was retired in favor of a gaudy orange and blue typeface.
Neptune was watching a commemorative retrospective on Pepperdine athletics. He looked at his trident in the corner and noticed a few cobwebs. He reminisced about his time in Atlantis and at Pepperdine. And he wondered: would he ever have another moment in the sun, or in his case, the sea?
He tried to fathom it.
But he couldn't.
17 May 2008. Is UMBC in Baltimore? Catonsville? Linthicum? BWI Airport? Maybe they're not so sure either, and decided to represent the entire county (but not the city, heavens no). Their logo will surely be getting an update soon like their fellow suburban rival, Towson. But until then, let's enjoy the hopelessly low-rent design of the slack-jawed water dog.
Dogpile Bingo is a popular game at Maryland county fairs. A well fed mutt is placed in an enclosure with numbered squares on the ground. Whoever holds the number where the dog, um, makes a deposit is the winner.
Lady Baltimore now found herself penned in, disoriented by human shouting. After fifteen minutes, the noise died down and it was apparent that nobody was going to let her out anytime soon. She squatted in a corner and decided the winner by process of elimination.
The losers chided her, "Bad dog!"
******
UMBC was holding its spring commencement. As it was the State of Maryland's 400th anniversary, a number of dignitaries were in attendance, including the Queen of England and her Welsh Corgi, Pudgemuffin. When the class valedictorian walked on stage to deliver his send-off speech, he brought up with him Rusty, the school's hearty mascot. Being a chubby checker, a star stalker, and an unneutered dog, Rusty could not help himself. He wrangled his way out of his leash and sprang into action.
The faculty gasped. The students howled. The valedictorian cheered him on, apparently unaware of the podium microphone.
"Yeah Rusty, way to hump that fat bitch! More cushion for the pushin'!"
The valedictorian was quickly escorted off stage and the university president moved to the conferring of bachelor's degrees.
"Bad Dog!" read the next day's headlines.
******
Lord Linthicum, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever and Security Officer in the Maryland Aviation Administration, galloped out to runway 13 carrying a high-powered orange light wand and wearing a headset.
Flight 8910 from Port St. Lucie, Florida, had lost radio contact and experienced instrument failure. In addition to this bad luck, a summer storm obscured all views and a lightning strike took out the airport's landing lights. The vicinity of Thurgood Marshall Baltimore Washington International Airport was cleared for the wayward craft. The pilot had been circling the runways, waiting for the storm to clear. Fuel was running low now. They had to land. Lord Linthicum was on the job. He was specifically trained for this emergency. Not only that, Chesapeake Bay Retrievers thrive in harsh wet weather.
"Tell me again why a dog is doing this?" asked one of the air traffic controllers.
"His years of training are perfect for this situation. Besides, do you want to go out in this weather? Didn't think so." The airport's head of emergency services turned back to the window. He keyed the mic.
"Block out the negativity, Lord Linthicum. I know you can do this. You've done this every week for the past four and a half years."
The tower watched the night vision runway feed. Lord Linthicum, a ghostly white on screen, stalled. He continued to stand still.
"Lord Linthicum, what are you doing? Runway 30, not 13! 13 is too short for a jumbo! Runway zero three zero, repeat runway zero three zero."
Lord Linthicum woofed in acknowledgment. He turned tail and sped off for 030. It was too late. The pilot has caught sight of the light wand and had begun to descend. At the last second before touchdown, the light made a U turn and disappeared out of view.
"What the...?" said the pilot.
The landing gear made contact with asphalt. The plane shuddered and slowed to driving speed. As it turned to taxi back to the terminal, the front end collapsed down. A massive thunk of cargo shifting interrupted the passengers' applause. A couple of wusses screamed. Some small bottles of vodka rolled out of first class. The plane stayed intact but was immobile.
"Jim, I think we're stuck in the mud." the pilot said to his copilot.
Back in the tower, the head of emergency services threw down his clipboard. He radioed, "Bad dog!"
No injuries were reported; one hundred forty seven were inconvenienced.
Bad dogs have to take baths.
7 Mar 2008. When in Arcata, do as the granola-eating, hemp-growing, earth-massaging Lumberjack fans do, and get a California Springs reusable water bottle.
The Humboldt Bodtle and the Towson Tumbler get daily usage, while the rest of the cup collection holds my dust collection.
Alexander von Humboldt: Mr. Darwin, the days grow weary.
Charles Darwin: I, too, feel the nostalgia of adventures past filling my head, Herr Von Humboldt.
AVH: Ho! Those salad days do not have to end quite yet!
CD: What say you?
AVH: I challenge you to a race around the Cape!
CD: But my cape is still at the tailors, kind sir!
AVH: Nay! The Cape Horn!
CD: Ah! My loins fill with great anticipation! The parameters, praytell!
AVH: We aim for the great northern California bay, coordinates 40'45' N, 124'12' W.
CD: Gadzooks! The journey itself will be a reward.
AVH: Patience, knave. The government of Spain has chartered a school of higher learning in the baytown. The winner shall be written into the charter and will be the namesake to that institution!
CD: Mystical carp gullets! Pardon my language, but a Darwin University in the new world! Dare I dream so?
AVH: An equal chance to dream for Humboldt University, have I.
CD: Then preparations must begin.
AVH: To be fair, as I knew of the Spanish charter five days beforehand, I will give you a sporting chance on this competition. When your vessel clears the horizon, it will be, let us agree, a full seven days to the minute until my departure.
CD: Indeed a charitable gesture, kind sir. Are we allowed to bypass the Cape completely?
AVH: What intriguing ideas are there swimming in your brain pool?
CD: A camel convoy crossing of the Central American continent. A short-cut if you will.
AVH: Sweet degrees of bonhomie and chagrin! I failed to allow for the Dar-win-at-all-costs ingenuity! All routes are fair game. Feel free to discover the Northwest Passage in your spare time, you swashbuckler!
CD: You flatter me, Alexander. I wish you luck.
AVH: May the best man win, Charles.
Alexander kept his promise to depart one week later than Charles. Charles did indeed complete a dromedary portage over the Nicaraguan isthmus. Thus he arrived in the bay one month before Alexander. He was surprised to see it marked on local maps as Humboldt Bay. But he was pleased to see the construction on the university already beginning. Inquiry into the Spanish charter revealed the school already had a name: The Humboldt Institute of California. The Spanish governor was adamant about the name, and was not entertaining any ideas about name changes. The story of cross country camels did little to change el jefe's mind. Charles had many questions upon Alexander's arrival.
CD: Alexander, you must speak to the governor! He claims to have heard nothing about our contest. And the school and bay are already named Humboldt!
AVH: Already named Humboldt? What a strange coincidence! None of my relatives have ever been here, and I certainly never have.
A local man in a woven poncho walks by with two small boys in tow.
AVH: Greetings Enrique! The twins are growing strong I see! Well, Charles, I guess we have to call this contest a draw. Better luck next time, eh? I have a ride to catch.
Alexander leaped onto a locomotive pulling out of the depot. The local children chased the steam engine while he doffed his sailor's hat and waved to the village. The freight cars had the words Humboldt Railways painted on the sides in green and gold lettering.
CD: I've been had! B...b...by that cad! ...Alexander von Humboldt, you've had a nice laugh, but I will claim the last one!
The last painting that Alexander and Charles would pose for as friends.
11 Feb 2008. I am as regular-looking as the next fella, but just walking through campus on a school day I got looks like I was an aboriginal with full war paint and roo spears at the ready. Not used to non-students voluntarily wandering into their land I suppose.
This traffic report brought to you by the Hansons on River Street. The Hansons are holding a yard sale this Saturday morning. Need tupperware, baby clothes, even a pinball machine? The Hansons' yard sale - this Saturday.
Congestion is heavy at the traffic light as usual. Cars are idling three deep. You may hit a 45-second snag past the Dominos Pizza. People are avoiding the light by going the wrong way in the Hardee's drive-thru, so stay alert.
On College Avenue, cars are zipping toward the interstate at 5-10 over the 35 limit before classes get out for midday break. But pedestrian traffic will be lighter near Wayland Hall as Mr. Shifflett's business class is on a field trip to the Wal-Mart distribution center.
No sighting of tractors or Mennonites, but a couple of ducks have made their way out of North River and onto Poplar Street. So everyone who has not yet left for lunch shift at Bob-A-Rea's - that's you, Jake - will be waiting for waterfowl.
There's an overturned beer can on South Main near the Marshalls shipping hub. Get a video of you runnin' it over and we'll hook you up with a free Smokin' Country FM tee shirt. From the second floor of the Quarles service station, this is Jaden McGillis for Smokin' Country FM.
*explosion.wav*
*hotdamn.wav*
*smokincountrybumper.wav*
Awful commute today, darlin'.
