COLUMN: Blaine and John – The saga continues
Although alarmed at the name “Lizard Fuel,” I decided to drink one of those new, hip SoBe beverages. As a long time Snapple connoisseur, I decided to branch out and try what the kids are drinking these days, but I still have unsettled feelings regarding the product. Lizard Fuel has a strawberry banana flavor (OK), but contains a couple extra items I do not recognize, namely astragalus and yerba maté (not so OK).
After a quick consultation with Blaine and John, who upon hearing my herbal inquiry had looks on their faces closely resembling bookends without a purpose, I decided to ask a professional. The Internet was more accessible so I found out that astragalus is actually a diuretic herb used in kidney inflammation formulas. It’s also used for toning the spleen. Thank goodness, my spleen was getting a little out of shape.
Yerba maté is probably something else equally useless in my life, so who cares what it is. Hey, I almost forgot, I’m supposed to tell a story about some lame basketball game. Oh yeah, and this column is supposed to be a continuation of adventures with Blaine and John, the two kids who look exactly like the stick guys in the picture yonder.
Upon arriving at a festive party, bless his heart, John decided he’d rather shoot hoops than socialize and drink refreshing, uncaffeinated beverages. When Blaine and I finally found him, John was the most excited I’ve ever seen him … unless you count the time he got extra parrots in his Marshmallow Mateys.
We walked into a gym equipped with basketball hoops standing only 8 feet above the floor. Ecstatic he could finally dunk a basketball, John put on a little show for us. I tried a dunk, but since I’m 6 feet 8 inches tall, I nearly knocked out my teeth.
Conveniently, some kids, named BJ, Bridger and Joe were also playing in the gym. We got the great idea to challenge them to a three-on-three basketball game. You would expect with a combined height advantage of roughly 47 inches and age advantage of about 34 years, we would have let the younger team off easily. Not bloody likely.
Grittily determined to leave a caustic impression on all who watched, Blaine, John and I played hard, as we really wanted to kick their butts. Mercilessly, John dunked the basketball and shouted jeers at the younger team. Blaine viciously blocked shots, slamming the ball into the wall at the other end of the court. I just held the ball above my head, and despite their continual swatting in the air, it was impossible for BJ, Bridger or Joe to get a rebound.
Unfortunately, our team started with a mild pride problem and we were down 9 points to 2. Then John got serious. So serious you could have run onto the court dressed like a giant frank singing the Oscar Meyer wiener song, and he would not have cracked a smile.
Hot defense and carefully calibrated domination resulted in an overwhelming victory for our team with a final score something like 42 points to 17. I’m not making this game up. BJ, Bridger, and Joe, if you’re reading this column to your friends at school, they must think y’all are really cool for being in the paper. More importantly, Blaine, John and I want to play you again. Just send me an e-mail. I’ll tell John (the blond-haired guy) not to be so mean next time.
Normally Blaine, John and I aren’t so ambitiously athletic. Usually we sit around and tell crazy anecdotes and devise silly ideas or pranks. When John is actually off studying how to make nifty things (he’s an engineer, you know) like a catapult or a kitchen resembling the one seen on “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure,” Blaine and I just like to sit around and watch things.
We’ve watched entertaining things like the Little Aggies story time, a massive kids chess tournament and most recently the model tryouts. I tried to convince Blaine to audition, but he didn’t really want to put on dresses or prance around in his underwear.
The most fun has to be watching people go by Carousel Square in the Taggart Student Center at night when the lights are turned off inside, making all the windows mirrorlike. Folks always check themselves out as they walk by, making sure they are “just right” for whatever event will next occur in their lives. We always make faces, but they can’t see us in the shadows of the food court. Bwooo hah hah hah!
Rest assured that I will continue to randomly mention Blaine and John in my column, but y’all need to meet them for yourselves. If you see them haphazardly ambling down the sidewalk or in a gym toning their spleens, be nice to them. Don’t mention anything about Blaine’s new haircut, and especially don’t call John “Weasel Puke.” He hates that!
Garrett Wheeler would like to hear some embarrassing stories about Blaine and John for future column ideas. Send anything remotely humiliating to wheel@cc.usu.edu.