With this, the phrase "Cecil is my Homeboy" became wildly popular, and by the time I got home and down to BYU it was still being said once in a while.While everyone would like to say that Cecil is indeed their homeboy, I have a greater right to believe that such is the case for me because of an incident that happened about a week ago.
It was Saturday the 11th of October. A frigid morning which brought with it the prospect of free blue pancakes that were being served across the street from the house in which I live by the BYUSSR...I mean BYUSA.
Anyway, after the pancakes and the 5k race (in case you haven't guessed it yet it was Homecoming) there was to be a parade. Now quite a few of the people in our ward live right along street where passed the parade, and so as I settled in to watch the parade I was surrounded by a great many of my friends and acquaintances from the ward.
We were whooping and hollering and generally having a gay ol' time when along came President and Sister Samuelson sitting in a convertible with the top down.
Let's back up for a second and say that earlier that morning when my roommates Nick and Chad and I had gone to get pancakes I was wearing gym shorts and a flannel shirt and my cheap ecuadorian canvas shoes without socks, and my legs and feet got cold. So before the parade I had gone home to put some socks on.
Back to the action,
As President Samuelson drove by, hosts of students, all of whom seemed to be vying for Cecil's attention with the obvious intent of showing to their peers that Cecil truly was their homeboy. I didn't feel the need to do as they were doing and merely sat in my chair and smiled and waved as he and his wife passed by.
As I did so, President Cecil O. Samuelson looked at me in the eyes, and over the din of the other students shouted to me, "Nice Socks." After which he gave me a big smile and a thumbs up."
It was then decided that Cecil truly is my homeboy.
This picture was taken shortly thereafter:
Wow, you are nerd. Glad to hear Cecil is indeed your homeboy, we have one of those stickers on our fridge.
ReplyDeleteHmm. Yeah, not just any socks. I think it's the whole ensemble together that makes me shake my head, and yet, not be surprised on bit. The shirt, the shorts, the socks--it's all pretty good. I'm sure Cecil's been laughing about the sight ever since. . . "Do you remember the kid with the striped socks? (chuckles to himself) Where did he come from anyway?"
ReplyDeleteSince you have now had encounters with, and received positive reinforcement from, LaVell, Bronco, various and sundry members of the football team, AND Cecil, I think it might be rightly concluded that YOU are THEIR homeboy! (By the way, what IS a homeboy?) Oh . . . nice socks!
ReplyDeleteSam, that's freaking awesome. Talk about a life changing moment.
ReplyDeleteSammy D,
ReplyDeleteI knew I just had to look hard enough and I would find you.
Looks like Cecil is your homeboy.
Sweet. Hope things are going well for you. Hardman said he hears from you once in a while, and so after knowing that you do still live, I knew it was my job to blog-stalk until I found you.
Very well written Sammy! I was wanting to read the whole entire story from the first word! I am glad that you can stand out in a big crowd!
ReplyDelete