More middle-aged antics

I was playing frisbee at Ravenna Park with the gang (Ryan, Lam, Martin, Luke, Matt, etc.) this evening, and we had a pair of unexpected visitors drop in. Both were middle-aged men, and both had a serious hankering for some hardcore ultimate action. They were, in fact, looking for the ultimatest game in town, and so of course we instructed them to look no further. Ryan acted as impromptu dignitary to the bald one, Bill, as he stretched languidly on the retaining wall, ostensibly asking him what his experience with frisbees was, what team he might like to join, and so on. He jogged back to our end zone, and I asked him, “So, he’s a middle-aged guy?” “Pretty much, yeah.” I can’t wait until the point in my life when a bunch of college students boil the essence of my existence down to a single jocular phrase.

Bill was pretty good, and after “cleating up” and getting his legs good and stretched proved his worth as a talented, albeit quick-to-tire, wingman with a very decent hammer. The other guy, Leif, is the kind of man whose children cringe in shame and embarrassment whenever they accompany him on public outings. Every time he made or received a pass, he’d shout things like “Honey, I’ve got the disk!” or “Aha! Excellent catch, young man!” When defending someone, he would windmill his arms as fast as he could while making faces and strange noises. To top off the ridiculous image, he’s diminutive (about 5’2″), bearded, and wore prescription sports glasses. On the positive side, the guy had crazy legs, especially for his size, and outran almost all of us for most of the game.

About midway through the game I noticed a clutch of teenage girls standing near one of the end zones, all decked out in Abercrombie gear and flipped-out hair. Feeling a moment of Brett-like bravado overtake me, I yelled out, “Hey ladies! Want to play some frisbee?” “High school Juniors, Zach, high school Juniors,” Matt admonished me. I knew that. Before long the other side of the lawn was overrun with more kids their age playing some variant of dodgeball. I’m guessing they were a young life group, given their apparent age and the fact that not a single one of them was wearing clothing appropriate for a sporting event. They all looked like they’d come straight from the mall, skipping through the food court carrying shopping bags piled high with trendy fashion, waving Daddy’s credit card in one delicately manicured hand.

I’m writing an article for the sex issue of the Daily called “What’s your major,” and I’m looking to interview some people about what they think about members of the opposite sex in their department. Specifically, I’m looking for a male Physics (Fysix!) major, a male Psych major, a female ME major, a male forestry major, and some others that I forget at the moment. If your major wasn’t on the list above and you’d like to be in the Daily, by all means drop me a line.

Also, tomorrow (today) is Michele’s birthday, so be sure to buy her a drink if you’re of age, and frown sourly at her otherwise.