Passin' me by

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

I like the song "Heartache Tonight" because it reminds me of how a lot of nights end when they begin with a drink.

Tonight's a day where that will happen especially in large numbers. Other than St. Patrick's Day (on a Tuesday this year ... five-day weekend!) and New Year's Eve, there's not a night where more people are out "actin' the fool" as the kids in Dublin and Worthington say.

Tonight usually sucks, though. That's the thing. I prefer the night after Thanksgiving. I prefer the week around Christmas.

There's too many people out in the hours before turkeys go into the over. There's too many "pissed off looking" girls. Homies, what's the deal? Fucking smile. You're off work tomorrow. Tomorrow's a legit fun day. You made the choice to go out. You have to understand (by now) that there will be a lot, A LOT of guys out. If you're not totally disgusting, guys will notice you and think in their heads, "I want to fuck that chick." Some might act on the notion. Others (like me) will just stare uncomfortably. Deal with it or stay in. Have a "girls night" at someone's house. Why the fuck are you out if you're going to stand there looking pissed at the world? Go the fuck home. My hand. Your face.

There's too many chachie dudes. There's not enough people like Art McGregor, followers and staffers at the German Village Media Family of Networks because most people like us are married (by now) and in bed by 11 p.m.

I know I eschew "growing up" and refuse to admit that "things pass me by," but the night before Thanksgiving is something I'm getting too old for. Who's going to be out tonight? People younger than me and maybe that dude from "How I Met Your Mother."

I grew up in a town where everyone gets married by the time they turn 30. Half of me wonders if I'll self destruct when I turn 30. The other half will be self-destructing. The night before Thanksgiving offers nothing for me in Mahoning County. I'm not "feeling it." I used to have a cousin that bartended at the local-where-everyone-goes-out-bar but now he works in Las Vegas. I don't.

But I'll be out tonight.

Ohio State 45, Northwestern 10

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

Usually I try to throw out an anecdote from the weekend when recapping the previous four nights. Sometimes it ties together with the rest of the piece, other times it has no bearing or meaning on anything whatsoever.

Too many such examples happened from Thursday, Nov. 6, 2008 through last night.

If I had to pick one, I'd have to pick when The Godfather got lost in the moment singing "Sweet Child of Mine" or My Cousin Kevin (MCK) and his ill-fated plan to get home to Youngstown or The Dr.'s telling his girlfriend (she's a girlfriend) that she's "getting an up-close and personal look on what makes us awesome" or our singing on the train headed back to Wrigleyville on Saturday night or when The Dr.'s girlfriend called him "baby" and we heard her call him "baby" or how every girl in The Only Bar in Evanston went by the name of Emily.

Still, I'm going with two. OK, three.

1. The "Live Your Life" moment at Merkle's.
2. The Godfather's insistence that we check out The Only Bar in Evanston, despite other intel reports.
3. The "I love college football (me too!)" moment.

We got to Cleveland on Thursday night after much consternation. The Godfather and I must have said "nothing is ever easy with him" about 400 times. We got to Mathlete's house (The Godfather's brother) and then walked over to Panini's on West Sixth. Had a few beers and The Godfather and Mathlete went to the game. I stayed behind to drink. Dorothy from Halloween met me and we proceeded to have beers for the next three hours watching the game. I watched far more of the game than her. (Me - All the plays, Her - None of the plays.) Obviously the Browns lost a huge lead and the game and not-so-obviously, MCK decided to meet us in Cleveland. He's another member of the "nothing is ever easy" crowd. He was supposed to meet us in Cleveland at noon on Friday. Instead, he meets us at the bar with his luggage (at the bar) and is looking for his buddy (he was to stay the night with him). Said friend then informs MCK that he's headed back to Youngstown. MCK has no place to stay and ends up at Mathlete's with us. I'd join later.

After the game, The Godfather walked into Panini's with the pissed-off-the-Browns-just-loss face and seemed ready to go home fuck that. He had a beer and spirits (while being drank) improved. He then met Dorothy from Halloween (who went to the same high school as The Godfather). She didn't recognize him. This brought much delight to Mathlete who said, "she's the first person who doesn't know him!" The Godfather claimed she was lying and that she did know him. He then hated on her the rest of the night (behind her back, when she wasn't around). We all had a fun time and some chick in a William Green jersey (with perhaps fake tits perhaps) hung out with us and joined Mathlete and the rest back at his apartment. This girl was someone's cousin. Glad she wasn't mine because you're not supposed to want to bang your own cousin. That's like the 14th amendment so says Moses and Exodus and the prophet Ezekial (What's up religion class!). Due process like what.

I am the biggest Browns, Cavs and Indians fan in the world but I fucking hate Cleveland. I almost made it the entire year of 2008 without going to that Obama-forsaken town. I know a couple attractive girls from Cleveland but ... it's just ... what is the deal? Even when they're wearing jerseys, the girls still look hit. I shouldn't call out the beer tub girl at Panini's because she's an actual human being with feelings and it's mean.

I walked Dorothy back to Kansas and joined the crew at Mathlete's house at about 3:30 a.m. They were eating pizza and playing rap music. I think some mildly unattractive (but not ugly) chick in a Brady Quinn jersey made out with MCK for 11 seconds. I went to bed. Mathlete offered me his bed. I accepted. His brother slept on the floor or couch.

"He did it to spite him," I said.

"Fact," Mathlete said the next morning.

We then drove to South Bend, Ind. for a hamburger at CJ's. The guy working the bar (tough looking Midwestern) brought three packs of smokes with him to work. Three. Cigarettes in Chicago are like $8 a pack. Hamburger was tasty.

Made it to Chicago after I played a great mix on The Godfather's iPod. We were fucking rocking during "Sweet Child of Mine." The Godfather was entirely lost in the moment and for a second I think he thought he was Axl Rose. It was hilarious. I let him have that moment.

Went out with The Dr. to Mickey's. Had 11 beers for the $25 all-you-can-drink 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. price. Saw many a fine bitches including this super hot Italian girl who I see out in Columbus from time to time. Chicago brings it. We basically just drank, watched basketball highlights and talked to friends of McCampus. Got home around 1:30 a.m., watched "The Office" and went to sleep.

It began.

I forgot to wear my jacket to the Ohio State game. I froze. It took forever to get there. The trains were packed. I had a hot chocolate and popcorn that blew all over the place. I also had some sausage before leaving. We sat near a New Yorker who rooted for Northwestern.

We began telling everyone Terrelle Pryor's nickname is "King Black."

It began again.

We walked over to The Only Bar in Evanston following the game. The Hammer told us that the bar was "packed" with "wall to wall" people and that we'd never get in. We seemed resigned to a boring afternoon of pizza, naps and maybe a lame attempt at going out. I was real pleased. The Godfather saved the day saying, "I want to see it with my own eyes. I don't want to make the same mistake President Bush made in 2002 by approving intel he didn't see with his own two eyes." We then went to the bar and did exactly what you expect. Yelled things. The Godfather made friends with strangers. I talked to random hotties (all named Emily) and The Dr.'s girlfriend called him "baby." Penn State lost. Obviously we were the last Ohio State people there come 8 p.m. (ET) and normal people started coming into the "restaurant." We boarded a train and sang songs for about 20 minutes to the delight of all passengers except an old black couple who probably dismissed us as "honkeys." The Godfather took requests and I'm sure his rendition of "Living on a Prayer" is on YouTube somewhere.

We all were pretty wasted at 8:30 p.m. after 6.5 hours of heaving drinking but we went to Wrigleyville and some random bar where a cougar (with husband) attacked Smiles. Smiles let me wear his jacket which was awesome. We then went to Merkles (an Iowa bar!).

Just saw so many random hotties wearing T-shirts from Big Ten schools and a drunk McCampus and crew. I talked to a girl with a Michigan State T-shirt. Pretty much blinders for two hours.

Then it happened.

They played T.I./Rihanna "Live Your Life" about three times and it got awesomer every time. That officially is the song of 2008 taking over "Whatever You Like."

I didn't do this recap justice.

The Dr.'s girlfriend got an up-close and personal look on what makes us awesome.

Drinking Season

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

Although it's a Tuesday, I don't think any date more epitomizes my life back in Columbus than October 28.

On Friday, Oct. 28, 2005, I met The Mayor and saw The Godfather for the first time in years. We chilled at a center high top and tradition began. The following year, we had the best "Cold and Dark" Ohio State football game in years and then went to that party on campus where everything happened. Earlier that morning, we had "Gray Hooded Sweatshirt Night" at Club 185 and the Truth later would chokeslam Dr. Z at The Godfather's former compound on Whittier.

It's really "drinking season" now that I think about it. Drinking Season runs from the last week of October through the first of the year. Really. Is there any other time during the year when so much considerable drinking goes on? I imagine The Mayor will love that I just named this "Drinking Season" and probably will say it many times.

Drinking Season ends when people stop drinking because of New Year's Resolutions, The 1 hibernates throughout winter, we "celebrate" Lent, the drab days of February, only to be rescued with the funness that is March.

Looking ahead we have Halloween Weekend, a trip to Chicago, Michigan Weekend, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the Friday after Thanksgiving, a weekend trip to Indianapolis, my birthday weekend, the weekend before Christmas, Christmas parties, that week before New Year's where nobody works and New Year's Eve.

Deck the halls.