O, lovely orange

Oh, yea! It's Hoopfest!

Oh, crap, it's Hoopfest.

This is the time of year when our thoughts extend to finances, taxes, the rising cost of living, inner city violence, and global warming. Yep, Spokane's own salute to the street ball tournament that honors the scrappy, the skilled, the wiley, and the willing to risk all for the chance to win-----a t-shirt.

I have a beautiful friend who gets great joy from watching her children play this game. They get a hotel room every year and wring every smidgeon of fun out of the entire weekend. I don't know how to do that.

When I'm downtown, I get completely distracted by wondering at all the young girls with half their clothes on, wanting to eat from every food booth I walk by, getting to the next game on time, remembering who has my cell phone and if I'm supposed to call someone with some important info, remembering where Starbucks is in proximity to my courts, seeing if my clothes are still clean enough to be in public since I'm supposed to be a grown-up, and straining to hit any store with the word "Clearance" or "Sale" visible from the sidewalk. In light of all this significant mental occupation, how am I supposed to concentrate on a game played by whining little girls who cry about getting shoved around in the 90-degree plus heat? And that's just the men's bracket.

This year I'm bringing my mp3 player, an umbrella, a loaded VISA card, and my camera--and I'm keeping my cell phone, thank you very much. Huck, dribble, drive, fake, screen, post up, block out, and use those boards--you are all this wonderful potential blog fodder.