Return of the Yeti

Quick one today, but a pleasure to write. When I was in college, I was very fortunate with the friends I made. Some were on the crew, several very good people in my dorms, and a fair number I met through my fraternity. One of those fraternity brothers was Matt, who stood up at my wedding ten years ago and has remained an important person to me ever since. Matt keeps a blog and just updated for the first time in about ten months.

Matt is one of the most hysterically funny people I know and I’m hoping for many more reasons why his mother thinks he’s a catch. In fact, I’d consider it a favor if everyone that reads this would jump over and give him a couple of page views — anyone with such a bank of stories as Matt has, should be entertaining the rest of us. With great power comes great responsibility. Hit latest entry starts a little rusty but the dialogue he quotes is classic Matt.

I’m not sure whether it translates well into a blog, but I remember Matt back in college, on an evening when the guys in our house were sitting around deciding who we were going to invite to pledge the franternity. We called it “Hash” and it was usually a strange night to be with. Matt and I were both a beer or two in already and excused ourselves for a few minutes upstairs from the basement, at which point some contrived argument arose. I ended up chasing Matt in circles around the pool table. Without even thinking about it, Matt snatched up a cube of pool chalk and flung it backwards at me. He barely looked. It caught me directly between the eyes. I was pissed.

Tossing that cost Matt time, though, and I tackled him into a couch. We ended up breaking thet couch just about in half and later having to replace it. After wrestling for a minute or two, we broke apart and Matt dissolved into laughter. I didn’t understand, and still didn’t when a few other guys around caught the laughter, until I wandered into the bathroom and saw it: there, on the bridge of my nose, a perfect blue circle of chalk. People still remind me of that every now and then, but I ended up having the last laugh — Matt was so disheveled from our wrestling match that he carried “Yeti” as a nickname from that evening.

We’re grown up now and have real lives, but I love to remember those days when we handed roses and thorns back and forth. And created the stories that make today fun to sit and look back on.

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