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The Incredible Adventures of Oldcat'69 (A daily diary)


I realize that many most all of you are not as excited about my next four days as I am, but just ignore me while I blubber along.  As long as I've been a Wildcat fan (since 1953 at least), I've never seen a game live in Rupp Arena.  Thanks to the generosity of a friend (and my incredible luck at having his son's girlfriend fit into my golf rain pants-another story for another day), I have seats in the first row on Tuesday night against Vandy.

Since I'm unable to contain my enthusiasm delerium, I'm gonna drop in a little addendum to this post each day from now through the game night.  I know my faithful readers will be excited to follow Ms Oldcat and myself as we experience the trip.  The days follow after the jump:

Day One.  Worked half a day and left Williamsburg at quarter past noon.  Six hours later, we were in Bristol, TN, for our first of two consecutive nights in enemy territory.  Tomorrow morning, it'll be check the oil in the engine, the air in the tires, and the gas in the tank for a quick sprint through Orangetown enroute to Doreville. 

That's right, the Ms and I are gonna sashay right through the enemy's camp about 10:00 tomorrow morning. Suffice to say that if bobothevol sees a silver blur running through town about that time, it'll be us. 

Should we escape the orange clutches of that depraved place, it'll only be further into the outback as we're going to visit the Ms's sick aunt in the Tennessee capital and, yes, tempt fate by spending the night there tomorrow night.

Then, thankfully, Sunday morning (coming down!), we will again point the oldcatmobile toward the land of light, crossing over the state line into the Bluegrass at a high rate of speed.  Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights in Lexington, and it'll be back to the nation of wahoo and hokie on Wednesday as I'm sure my fellow staff members won't be able to get the job done one more day without me.

As for tonight, I've booby-trapped the car and barricaded the door to protect Ms Oldcat's chastity honor and will hopefully survive the night and the subsequent 30 hours or so.  At the risk of violating a community guideline, pray for us.

If you don't hear from me again, look for an East Tennessee Neanderthal driving a silver Highlander with Virginia tags.  If there are two pale skins, one with very gray hair, tacked onto boards and salted down in the back, knock Bubba in the head and get the tickets out of the glove box.  Enjoy the seats. 

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