The Hook is Going To Crash…

But hopefully I won’t burn…

It’s Monday, I’m tired, the hotel is dead, and my “other career” is still stick in neutral and I have no idea what the heck I’m going to write about…

So here’s the lowdown on a little deal that’s going to be going down around town this week. And yes, I said “going down”; stop giggling…

Red Bull Crashed Ice is a testament to Man’s willingness to risk life and limb for athletic glory, bragging rights and of course, loose women who love guys who manage to speed-skate down an ice track without winding up in traction – or a pine box. This event has made its way across this great nation I call home and it will be crashing its way into my hometown starting November 29.

The hotel will be heavily involved in this winter free-for-all but the excitement has spread beyond the corridors of Upper Management. The track is visible from most of our rooms and it ‘s inspired some interesting reactions from guests: 

• “I’d like to see you race your cart down there, Mr. Bellman!”  And in case you’re wondering, that was a 65-year-old man, not a 12-year-old boy…
• Lordy, Lordy, lookit that there track! Is that for a NASCAR Winter race? I love rednecks.
• Can I send my husband down that? Marriage is a sacred institution, but it’s not for everyone.

We’ll see how things play out this weekend, but I anticipate a lot of screaming, drinking and many, many failed attempts at copulation. Of course, I’ve just described a typical weekend in the Falls – but this will no doubt be amplified by the consumption of thousands of cans of liquid chaos in a can…

HERE’S A FINAL IMAGE TO CHEW ON…

Moving on, here is an example of blogging love in action: a kick-ass holiday event hosted by Emily from The Waiting Blog and Ashley from Ashey Etc! Zip over to Emily’s cyber-hood and check it out, okay?

And finally, here’s a good example of just why The Hook has never actively pursued a career in diplomacy..

Upon entering a room to facilitate the smooth departure of a family during the Sunday morning chaos, I was greeted by a dad with an interesting sense of humor.

CRAZY DAD: Is that Kenny G?

Kenny G?

SUFFERING WIFE/MOM: No, dear! Stop calling white boys that, okay?

But he didn’t. He continued to refer to me as “Michael Bolton” or “Michael Bublé” while he attempted to load my cart himself. Finally, after his fifth attempt failed and their bags cam tumblin’ down, I took control of the situation.

THE HOOK: I’m going to load this, if you don’t mind, sir. I have a better idea of how to make things fit on the cart.

SUFFERING WIFE/MOM: Yes, this boy knows what he’s doing, dear!

CRAZY DAD: Since when do white boys know what they’re doin’? But you know what? Go ahead, white boy! Have fun, we went crazy on Black Friday!

That last straw people always refer to? That was mine.

THE HOOK: Thanks, sir. By the way, isn’t every Friday “Black Friday” for you?

The wife grinned from ear-to-ebony ear, the kids roared and dad just stood there, too stunned to search his memory for the name of a white crooner to call me.

We met up downstairs (minus dad, who was conspicuous by his absence) and I accompanied mom and the kids to the obligatory min-van, where mom doled out such useful advice as “Don’t stand there, it smells like pee!” and “Stop hitting your sister with your Game Boy! You know she’ll get you back when you’re sleeping!”

Finally, dad returned and the moment of truth arrived: if I had truly offended this African-America clan – as if you hadn’t guessed their background by now – they would let me know by stiffing me; there’s no great offense to hurl at a bellman, after all.

SUFFERING WIFE/MOM: Here you go, sir. I’d would have liked to give you more, but he doesn’t give me much to work with!

He loved that, by the way.

And so I walked away with ten bucks, a blog post and a smile on my Caucasian face. A victory no matter how you slice it.

CHECK IT OUT!

SHOUT-OUT TIME…

Benjamin Wallace is a new friend but a true one. Like Vina Kent, – and Jo Bryant before her – he’s come through with helpful tips and contacts where others have  brushed me off, in a friendly way, of course. Check his site out. He’s blazing a new trail for dumb, white husbands everywhere…

TIME FOR OTHER BUSINESS..

A shout-out to my blog buddy, Kristen Lamb and her best-selling tome, We Are Not Alone: The Writer’s Guide to Social Media. Give it a try, folks. You won’t be disappointed…

ONE LAST ITEM OF BUSINESS…

A fellow bellman and artiste/filmmaker extraordinaire, Joseph Mancini, has created a new digital presence to share with the world. Show him some of that awesome devotion you’ve bestowed upon yours truly and check his work out, okay? I appreciate it, folks. Until next time. stay cool…