Scooby?

I went to the Oklahoma State football game last weekend. That's the one that ended with an 84 to 0 victory. Yes, I know, calling it a "game" is a bit of a stretch.

The best part was who I got to go with... my dad, my oldest nephew (12) and my niece (10)!

On our walk to the stadium, a man came up behind us. "Hey, Scooby-Guy," he said to me. "Where are all the bars?"

I was not prepared to be mistaken for a cartoon character and asked to give directions to a bar with my niece and nephew watching attentively. I played dumb. "I'm not from here."

He shouted, "No problem!" and attached himself to another nearby group. "Hey! Where are the bars?"

I half-expected to hear him add on a very inflammatory question from Blazing Saddles (see the video clip below :) ).

In the meantime, Nephew was looking at me with mischief in his eyes. "Did he just call you Scooby?" I nodded. "Scooby-Guy, to be exact."

Niece and Nephew couldn't be happier. "Uncle Scooby!" I was a hero. From that moment on, during the game and all evening, I was "Uncle Scooby".

It was crazy-hot up in the stands. The lady in front of us knocked over her bottle, and I suddenly had a puddle of nice cool water right in front of me. I kicked off my sandals and stuck a foot in before the water had a chance to boil.

Nephew saw it. "Uncle Scooby's got a wet paw!" I grinned. "Uncle Scooby has a nice, cool wet paw."

Nephew considered this a minute. "Can I stick my foot in there, too?" "Nope. Get your own accidental spill."