For The Orange and the Blue

Tomorrow night my father and Mrs. Yak and myself will be hosting the Area Representative for our beloved alma mater at a local restaurant. The purpose of this much anticipated gathering will be to perfect an agreement made earlier on behalf of a friend, or I should say, a friend’s son.

Late last fall I got a series of calls and emails from my old roommate panicked that his son might not get back into the college. His son, you see, having been admitted as a freshman the year before, decided he would rather become a famous film director in Babylon than a Baptist minister in Peoria. He enrolled at UCI for the next fall term having had enough Chicago cold and snow.

UCI wasn’t everything he had hoped. All his Asian martial arts film classes were populated by WASP geeks just like him, he had to live with his parents, and his eccentric uncle insisted on taking him to frequent lunches at Home Town Buffet. He wanted back into a school where he knew at the very least, he could find some real Asians. His parents, stalwart alums, were overjoyed.

I said that I would see what I could do. I called our rep and after a heated series of assertions and denials about what could and couldn’t be done, we struck a deal. The wayward son would return to the Harvard of Christian Evangelicalism and I would cough up a membership at a prominent Chicagoland golf and country club.

For friendship! And for the Orange and the Blue.

Disclaimer:
References in this post to events, persons and places, real or imagined, living or dead are not to be relied upon.