The other picture

Thanks to fellow fan club member (and fellow person in the picture - which was taken with an iphone!) Josh Rigstad for sending the picture that I referenced in the last post.

Richie, this is for you!

I parred that hole, by the way.

Richie

Have you ever been to another country and after being there for about 10 minutes you realize that you are in a completely different culture? Well, every year a few friends of mine and I, along with about 80 other guys get to experience this feeling in a little place called Hazleton, Pennsylvania. You see, we make the trek to this little place every year to play in a three day golf outing. We look forward to this event every year almost like it is Christmas. We start emailing each other somewhere around the first of the year with messages of anticipation and trash talk. The emails intensify the closer we get to the outing.

The golf is great. Don't get me wrong. It is a great chance to play with friends, drink some beers and even make some money. However, along with the golf is the town of Hazleton and the people who reside there all year long. Hazleton sits in a beautiful area of Eastern Central PA. However, it seems like a place that time forgot. The dress, the haircuts, the culture seem stuck somewhere between the Reagan and Clinton administrations.

And there, at the center, is Richie. I call him Richie because a last name is not needed in Hazleton. Richie, is Richie Molinaro. He is, I guess, a local celebrity of Hazleton. The Ryan Seacreast if you will. He does a little of everything. He has a TV show. He is big within the local Chamber of Commerce. He works at a local car dealership. However, what he may be best known for, and how he crossed our path, is that Richie is a singer. No, Richie is a "performer". He performs regularly at the Timbers Lounge in the hotel that we stay in for this outing.

Here is a link to his myspace page or maybe someone devoted to promoting him. Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=104942521

A "concert" of Richie's is more like an experience. He sings the best of Neil Diamond, Rod Stewart, Frank Sinatra and a host of other well known lounge tunes. He sings like he is performing at Radio City Music Hall. However, in actuality, he is in a dark lounge about the size of a football endzone. However, the people come out for him like he is U2. The place is PACKED and people dance the night away. Since the first time we saw him a few years ago, the legend of Richie has grown. The last two years he hasn't performed while we were there (though I make my annual call to the Comfort Inn a few weeks before to see if he is going to be there). So some guys have never had the Richie experience. But those that have will never be the same.

So this year, we sponsored a hole, like we have the last few years. It is a way to bring money into the event and keep it going. None of us own businesses (yet) and we didn't want to be boring so we decided to come up with an interesting faux name. The choice: The Richie Molinaro Fan Club. We felt very proud of ourselves for coming up with a clever name that probably many people wouldn't get.

However, one of the guys who DID get it was one of the people who ran the event, Mr. Terry George - who looks JUST like Puddy from Seinfeld. And he pulled a move on us that I still can't believe. To keep it short - he called us up in front of everyone on Saturday night to recognize us and our fake organization. However, as a way to express our appreciation - he had something for us. I give you, an actual signature from Mr. Hazleton, Richie Molinaro.

It turns out that Terry did a little, no ALOT of, research and found out all of this stuff about Richie. And he called him. And he told Richie about us. And Richie loved it. So he swung by the Comfort Inn on Friday and signed a bunch of autographs for the Fan Club. That doesn't really exist.

It was incredible. Mine is going to be framed.

So overall, the weekend was somewhat of a wash out. It POURED on Friday. Was OK on Saturday and then rained again on Sunday. However, my most cherished keepsakes from the weekend are a picture next to our "Richie Molinaro Fan Club" sign and personally autographed picture of Richie Molinaro.

For bookings - 570-455-7369. Trust me. You will never be the same.

The Epicenter of Nerdville

Two posts in two days. What am I doing? I have a reputation to live up to.

So Missy's brother Greg and his wife Katy and their kids Luke(y) and Abby flew in from Chicago this past weekend to visit. We always have a great time with them. It was very cool to watch Riley interact - more than just lay there and stare - with his cousins. He sort of played with them. He wrestled with them. He stole their toys. Good times.

Anyway, we went down to the Franklin Institute on Sunday because A. it was a gorgeous day, B. there were lots of fun and interactive things for the kids to do and C. all the kids were free.

Like most museum type places, there is usually a featured attraction or theme that runs for a few weeks and then is replaced by another attraction or theme. We happened to come on the last day of their most recent attraction - Star Wars - Where Science Meets Imagination. We walked around the corner and this is what we saw.

Boba Fett lining up overweight Storm Troopers, overweight Jawas, underage Princess Leia's. All the while a photographer on a crate was trying to get museum staff out of the picture.

Then a group of pirates rolled up and reviewed the rows of overweight Star Wars characters. Then Darth Vader and the head pirate (I assume) exchanged swords/light sabers and a new banner came down. The next attraction would be Pirates-Where History Meets Imagination.

Inside, they had some awesome exhibits (excluding the Star Wars one which was like $10 more a person). We had a great time watching the kids go from exhibit to exhibit. Riley basically wandered aimlessly and found the most satisfaction with pushing his stroller. However, what stood out to me, other than the price of lunch, was the number of Star Wars fans that were in attendance.

Now I am a Star Wars fan. When I was a young lad, I would spend nights watching all three of the originals back to back to back. I know most of the characters and can recite most of the lines. I stood in line to watch the midnight showing of every episode when they were released (or re-released for the old ones). However, after seeing some of the people who were in the Franklin Institute, I don't even come close to being able to label myself a fan.

I wasn't wearing a Star Wars t-shirt. I wasn't wearing a Star Wars t-shirt that was supposed to look like Darth Vader's suit. I wasn't wearing a Star Wars t-shirt that was supposed to look like Darth Vader's suit with matching pants. Basically, if you were 40 years old, living in your parents basement and worked at Game Stop in the mall, you were at the Franklin Institute on Sunday. While privacy laws prevent me from showing you any pictures of the specific people who attended Sunday's festivities, I can tell you they all looked very similar to this person.

But really who can blame them? When else would you be able to walk around with your light saber, interact with Storm Troopers and get your picture taken with Princess Leia? It was a Star Wars nerd's real life fantasy.

I admit, it was kind of cool to see Riley interact with Storm Troopers. They all seemed to love him (I hope he isn't turning to the Dark Side!). And I even got my picture taken with a few characters (the line was too long for Darth Vader). Note Riley's expression. That was pretty much the face he had for much of the day.

The guy who got his picture taken before me (he was wearing a "Revenge of the Sith" t-shirt and was desperately in need of a shower and some sunlight) bent down and flashed a peace sign while the Storm Troopers pointed their blasters at the camera. It was classic.

Overall, we had a really great time. Below are a few pictures to help give you a sense of our trip to the Franklin Institute - Where Nerds Meet Reality.

My Super Bowl

As most of you know, I have played volleyball for over 15 years. It started at the good old family picnics and specifically Nace Family Camp. In 9th grade, I wanted to try out for the high school team. I convinced a few friends to try out as well. As it turned out, our high school had been (and still is) one of the best teams in the state with a coach who is considered a volleyball legend in PA.

After four years of high school volleyball, I played club ball at Taylor. Our club team had a blast traveling to different colleges and playing in tournaments. We even won a few. I also played intramural volleyball. I have two championship t-shirts (both won after I graduated but worked at TU) and a permanently dislocated finger to show for that.

After college, all that was left for me was a local volleyball league. I don't remember when I started playing in the league and I don't remember how I got hooked up with my team but I do know that I have been playing with this team (with a few changes here and there) for several years. We get along great. We have a lot of fun but Team USA we are not.

Our setter is approaching 60. Our middle hitter (who looks eerily like the killer from "Fargo") is more oak tree than athlete. The rest of the guys are younger (35 and under) but they can be inconsistent and that DEFINITELY includes me.

We approached these playoffs like we have every other year. As the 4th seed. We are better than most of the teams in our league. However, there are a few teams - two in particular - who are better than us. They are younger, more athletic, taller, everything. In short, we usually qualify for the playoffs but are gone by the end of the semis.

So last night were the semis and for those who won, the finals. My parents came but I told them to keep the car running because we would be done pretty quickly. The first game made me look like a prophet. We lost 15-7 to the #1 seed - the dreaded team "Duck or Bleed". Then it was as if a ray of light from heaven shone down on us. All of sudden, we were playing at a level that I had never seen before. We won the second game 15-1. The third game was rough be we prevailed. We were going to the finals!

Now, I am very aware that this is just a local volleyball league. There were no reporters there. Heck, there were no fans there. Our cheering section, which consisted of my parents and my teammate's fiancee and her mom, left after the first match. But to me, this was my Super Bowl. The only thing waiting for me at the end of this if we won was a lousy T-shirt. But if we won, it would become my favorite T-shirt if only because we had never won it before.

So the finals came and I was giddy. It may have been the Lemon/Lime Gatorade I had before the match. We had never been this far before. However, we were playing the OTHER team we could never beat - the juggernaut that is "Big Dawgs". We won the first game 15-10. We were one game away from the coveted T-shirt. They came back in game 2. We didn't play well - our typical playoff performance - and lost 15-8.

The third game came and everyone was exhausted. It was more of a grind than a game. We went back and forth. Both teams led by a few at some point in the match. Finally, they wore out and put three consecutive shots in the net. We were victorious 15-13.

Sure it was 10:15 at night but I was on cloud 9. We had gone further than we ever had before. Not only did we get past the semis but we WON the finals against the two teams we could never beat (we went 1-5 against them during the regular season). And now I had my coveted T-shirt.

I got home and proudly displayed my champion T-shirt to Missy. She shared in my excitement for a little bit then went to bed. I decided that, after a shower, I would celebrate myself. So I poured myself a vodka tonic (4 ice cubes, 40%-60% vodka-tonic, stirred with the knife I used to cut the lime - just like I have right now) and watched the Phillies.

Sure it wasn't the Super Bowl but for me it might as well have been.

Congratulations Team "All In", you are the champions of the Souderton Community Volleyball Mens BB-B League.

I'm going to Disney World!