Monday, November 17, 2003

Knight Rider

I rarely have dreams about famous people.  I did have one a few nights ago, but don’t remember too much of it.  I was in a small cramped room with Bobby Knight, the boorish assaultive college basketball coach.  For international readers, he’s got a reputation built over a career of decades for hitting players, throwing chairs onto the court during games, and generally being a gaping flamer of the highest magnitude.  I don’t care much about basketball, and I care much less than that for Bobby Knight, but there he was in my dream, looking like he was doing a razor commercial.  Then again, so did I, in my european-cut shirt and a pair of sharp new black chinos.  I was trying to deal with something in the corner of this cramped room, and Bobby Knight (I can only refer to him by both names, otherwise he could be Bobby McFerrin or KnightRider) is standing right by my side.  I bend over a low table to pick up something and Bobby Knight slaps my ass and tells me approvingly, “That’s nice and firm.” That’s all I recall from this dream. 

He didn’t feel me up.  I was not excited by this dream, but this is the only part of it I remember.  I do recall, in the dream, thinking, “what the hell is Bobby Knight doing here, and why would he be slapping my ass, much less expressing an opinion about it?”

I think I need to go hunting or blow something up.  Quickly.

Don’t go hunting with the General (yeah, they really call him that) or he just might shoot you.

Yeah, I remember all sorts of stories about that guy. I can’t believe how many people still love him in Indiana.

i have finally forgiven osu for woody hayes.  bobby knight.  eww.  but him grabbing your butt?  ohdeargod—WRITE about blowing up something or hunting!  please.  you can’t leave us with THAT.

dan....????  are you okay????  i’m concerned.

Let me guess, you were wearing bike shorts in the dream, weren’t you? Haven’t you been warned about those?

Maybe the dream was actually about both Bobby McFerrin and Michael Knight.  A mutant hybrid, if you will. “Kit, it’s time we forgot about bad guys for a while and just...y’know...were happy.  With one another.  Can I touch your tailpipe?”

obviously you liked it.

Ok WHAT did you have for dinner....don’t EVER have it again!

and now all day long I’ve been slapping myself in the face and throwing my chair around.  Damn but it’s kind of fun.

in following with the diet idea, maybe this all could have been prevented if you’d had THAT salmon on saturday.

and then there wouldn’t be a bunch of bloggers sitting at our desks picturing bobby knight grabbing your ass.

it would have been better for everyone, clearly.

Hey, speak for yourself, Kate.  Or you can speak for yourself and me, and those other folk you mentioned.  But Bobby got a pretty good buttgrab on me there, I’d expect he’d have been disappointed if I’d have cut him off by eating a better supper…

We were out of salmon, anyway.  We had “hot whatever under tomato sauce.” Not quite as much fun as it sounds.  But Kel made nutmeg brownies with cream cheese frosting; that made up for a lot. 

I blame the Schwartzenegger administration.  The austriandroid put freaks in my head.  That’s his whole MO.

MUST HAVE THE NUTMEG BROWNIE WITH CREAM CHEESE FROSTING RECIPE!!!

please.

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