When Katydid and I were walking to Coleman Coliseum for the gymnastics meet Friday night, there were nice police officers directing traffic. FOOT traffic. I've always been kind of smug about the fact that at UGA we have police officers directing traffic after home meets. But I never realized that some places have to direct traffic - FOOT traffic at that - BEFORE the meets. I'll tuck my smugness away where no one can see it.
Anyway, as we crossed the street I was reminded of the time I was almost famous. It took me almost the rest of the way to the Coliseum to tell it, because I get hysterical every time I try to recount the story. Oddly ... no one else thinks it's as funny as I do.
Way back when Sweet Girl was a little bitty thing, we had some kind of official convocation at the University of Georgia. I think it was in 1985, which would have been the 100th anniversary of UGA, so that kind of makes sense. It was apparently a very big deal, because then-Vice-President George Bush was the keynote speaker. The first George Bush.
Because I worked at UGA and the ceremony was in a building right up the street from my office, and because it made me look interested and got me out of the office for a couple of hours, I attended the convocation. I cannot for the life of me tell you to this day anything anyone said at the ceremony.
After the speeches and pomp and circumstance were over, I had to leave to take Sweet Girl to the doctor for a check-up. The streets adjacent to the parking lot where I parked were blocked off, and a policeman was standing in the road directing ... nothing. I approached him to ask what time the streets would be reopened, because clearly my daughter's health was way more important than any old Vice President.
As I opened my mouth to ask my question, the nice policeman snarled, "Lady, get out of the ROAD!"
I looked up, and the Vice Presidential motorcade, flags a-flying and Official Seal of the United States of America a-blazing, was bearing down on me. Fast. Very fast. And their agenda did NOT include stopping for some dumb broad standing in the middle of the road asking a police officer a very legitimate question.
I scurried out of the way, embarrassed and chastened, and never did get the answer to my question. I guess the roads opened up soon enough, though, because I'm not still there.
And that is how I almost got famous.
Dead, but still famous.