Friday, September 25, 2009

Russians Dress Like That?

When I was a child, and even to some extent now, I had a very active imagination. I used to get in trouble all the time in class for finishing my work early so I could stare out the window and daydream. I would fantasize about all sorts of stuff- being the first kid in 4th grade to be allowed to have a driver's license and a Delorean (big Miami Vice fan, I was), catching the winning touchdown in a Superbowl from a pass thrown by Jim McMahon, building my own separate house out back so my parents couldn't bug me know, boy stuff. One particular day, when I was in 2nd grade, I decided to announce to my friends that we had a Russian stowaway living in our house and I was going to bring him to school. How a man from Russia made it all the way to Littleton, CO fresh off of a boat didn't concern me. Now I had a problem- I didn't actually have a Russian living in my basement, so I would have to improvise. I would be the Russian, and talk to my class. Surely nobody would notice.
The next morning, I gathered up my necessary disguise. I took an old pair of jeans, and cut the bottoms into ribbons of denim (surely a Russian's clothes would be tattered after months in the cargo hold of a ship I thought). I also took a red and black flannel shirt, and did the same things with the sleeves. I figured a Russian would have a 5:00 shadow after such a long journey, so I took some dark make-up from my mom's drawer, and added that to my supplies. I would just fill in the beard at the opportune moment. I put this stuff in my backpack, and went to school. As the kids were going out to recess, I slipped into the bathroom, and put my disguise on. This was working perfectly- they would never know! I ran out to recess, as surely a Russian would enjoy some fresh air before his big speech. I was about 3 steps out the door when the big ol' black lady that was the recess moniter looked at me, and said "Kyle- did your mom let you go out the door dressed like that?" Damn, they caught me. I lowered my head, said "no", and sulked back inside- changing my clothes. Looking back, it's amazing to think that I had formed some notion of what a Russian would look like, even as a child in Colorado- 12,000 miles from the Cold War. Incorrect as it may have been, it still makes me smile that I did that- at least I tried!
If my wife and I are ever blessed with children, I don't know how I will react when they do stuff like this. I will likely think that it's hilarious, and laugh.

Friday fun facts:
I am horrible about keeping our bedroom straight, but almost fanatical about having a clean kitchen.

I once placed 7th in a poker tournament that started with 120 people.

Once, at the Model UN in middle school, I got a resolution passed by telling everyone that if they just pushed it through, we could go to lunch.

I keep watching "Step Brothers", and laughing harder each time I watch it.

I proposed to my wife next to a moss-covered well at a picnic on a 45 degree, rainy day in Arkansas- it still worked as she said yes.

In high school, for a brief time, I had a cross shaved into one side of my head, and a smiley face shaved in the other.

I love french fries- good, bad, ugly, who cares- I could live off of those little pieces of goodness.

Today's wine reco comes from a bottle that I took around yesterday. If you can, try the 2006 Morgan Cotes-du-Crows. It's a blend of 55% syrah, and 45% grenache from Monterey in California. Think smoked meat notes, mixed with blackberry and raspberry. It's delicious, and should cost less than $20 retail.

Until Monday, Cheers! Come see me pouring wine at the Wine Chateau on Saturday from 12-4.

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