Look at me getting topical.

I've led a pretty boring, unglamorous life. No complaints here, just stating a fact. I have a few good stories I save for parties, but nothing real thrilling without a drink or 6. Given recent events, I thought I'd share one here. So grab a cocktail. 


My brother was an excellent athlete and student in high school. He was heading to West Point when a last minute medical "weed out" disqualified him. A history of asthma and allergies were his downfall. With much excitement and a little relief, he headed off to Penn State.


Because MacMurrays tend to ignore the realistic (a good quality, in my opinion), my brother tried out for the football team as a walk on. And he made it! Which is a big deal. But he never got the chance to suit up and play. My mother was very angry. She didn't understand the purpose of a walk on program if you weren't going to let the players walk on. The recruited, scholarship athletes were clearly favored. So what did she do? She wrote a letter. I'm sure it was harsh.


This is where I (lazy, teenager) capture some of the glory of this story. Walking past a ringing phone (connected by a squiggly cord to the kitchen wall) I decided to answer it.


It was Joe Paterno! Calling to speak with my mother. They talked for a long time and by the end of the conversation, she was so impressed. Impressed with his explanation of the system. Impressed that he called our home. It was a love-fest from that point on.


Unless you are still without power after the freak October snow storm, it's obvious what made me recall Joe Paterno. Honestly, I feel very removed from all the drama in Happy Valley. I didn't go there. I'm not a huge fan. I don't really get the "Rah! Rah!" mentality of a giant university. I chose a small college. It's hard to pronounce let alone cheer for, everyone knew everyone's everything (the good, the bad, the highly embarrassing), and you could cross the entire campus in a matter of minutes. Quicker if it was raining or MC Hammer was playing on the mix tape in your walkman. I'm pretty confident I could have made our football team. (Sorry, Neill. I am insulting one of my few followers.) 


The whole "I bleed blue and white!" or green or purple or whatever is so silly to me. Except for my school's color is red so it literally makes sense. But I wouldn't chant it or wear it on a t-shirt.


A lot of the Penn State scandal is still unfolding. I'm hoping it unfolds in a positive way for Joe Paterno mostly because he was nice to my mom. Though if it doesn't and there was a massive cover-up of perhaps the worst of all possible crimes, then boo on him. The whole thing makes me very sad. Guilty or not, a defeated old man with saggy pants and super thick glasses is just plain depressing.


In addition to my brief exchange with Paterno, my only other celebrity run-ins include:

1. Weird Al Yankovic circa 1987 in the parking lot of the Mann Music Center after an evening of underage drinking on the "hill." At least I'm pretty sure it was him. 
2. Dinner with news anchor Charlie Gibson in 1992. One of my college professors knew him personally. It should be noted that Charlie Gibson was, at the time, on tv and somewhat relevant. 
3. A whole bunch of mooching celebrities at various Super Bowls I attended when Jon worked for the Ravens. There was a Baldwin brother in Miami, a Backstreet Boy in Atlanta, and the entire Survivor cast staying at our hotel in Tampa. Yes, we went to a lot of Super Bowls. Pre-kids, pre-recession. Excess was totally acceptable and the only person I had to feed every day was myself. Oh, 1999, how I miss your casual ease while loading chicken nuggets in the toaster oven!

Here's this week's question. Don't worry, I'm not asking for your opinion on Penn State. Have you ever had a brush with fame, met a celebrity, or been on tv?


P.S. Someone in my family is going to read this and remind me of the summer I walked George Clooney's dog. I feel most certain that I am forgetting something. It's been a long week!