Between MC’ing a “Battle Royale” between a gorilla, Mario, and a robot, watching the Cardinals win the World Series, and stealing obtaining a 9-foot tall cardboard Borat cutout, I’d say this was the one of the most interesting weekends I’ve had in a long time.
For those who weren’t at Freaker’s Ball, first I must say, shame on you. It’s a totally free concert venue, so what’s not to like? I swear, if I hear one more person tell me that there’s nothing to do in Rolla and then, under further questioning from me, say that the aren’t going to the (free) SUB events, or KMNR’s (free) concerts, or aren’t joining an organization, I very well believe my head will implode. Exploding is overrated. Anyway (and if you’re reading this for the first time and don’t know who I am, you’ll notice I’m quick to get on tangents), Freaker’s Ball was a blast, or while I was there, at least. Fun was had by all, costumes were wild, and for those of legal age, booze was flowing. Plus, there’s not too many other times in your life you’re going to witness Mario, a Robot, and a Gorilla having a dance-off. Nothing to do in Rolla? What does any major city have that Mario, a Robot, and a Gorilla can’t offer? (The correct answer to this rhetorical question is a 1:1 ratio of men to women, but don’t hurt your brains thinking about it too hard).
So, from Freaker’s Ball I traveled to St. Louis (Chesterfield, specifically, the first night), where I was greeted at my Editor in Chief’s father in his underwear at their house. Quite frankly, this ranked relatively low on the list of oddly crazy things that this weekend contained, but nonetheless, it added to the picturesque surrealism this weekend provided. On the way to Chesterfield, however, I was informed of a potentially earth shattering event: There was going to be a pre-screening of “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” at the Media Conference. I’m not sure if birds were chirping or the sun decided to peek out at midnight, but it didn’t matter, because I was totally lost in the pleasant thoughts of Borat’s sex crimes (High five!).
The next day, at the conference, the very first thing I did was pick up my tickets to the screenings of “Borat” and “Stranger than Fiction.” I was informed that everyone going to the movie was to gather outside the hotel at 5:30, so buses could take us to the theater. Being the outstandingly prepared individuals we were, we even arrived at just before 5:00 to be on the safe side. So, we take our place in line, in the cold and rain (it feels like I should put the phrase, “We walked uphill, both ways” in here somewhere…), and waited. And waited. And just when waiting seemed like it was coming to an end, with about 20 people ahead of us, the representatives of the movie studios declare (and I want to convey that they were malicious and were directly trying to hurt my enthusiasm for wanting to see this movie as badly as possible, because of course they were directly responsible for this travesty), “SOLD OUT!!”
To say my heart sank is like saying the faces of Mets fans when Beltran struck out to end the NLCS portrayed a feeling of slight discontent. Whether I momentarily blacked out or not is inconsequential. All I knew is that my revenge would be sweet. So, our group then proceeded to hike over to Busch Stadium, just to see if anyone felt like, out of the goodness of their hearts, to give this oh-so-wonderful group of poor college kids 4 tickets to a game. Evidently scalpers don’t like to “give” away tickets, per se. But alas, we were to press on.
The next day brought with it fresh hope and a sense of naive wonderment. Just how was I going to make those film studios pay? Upon arrival to the conference, the Borat team had decided, in their infinite wisdom, to leave an opportunity so sweet to me to get my revenge that this tale shall regale the youth of every nation for minutes, possibly hours to come. The studio was packing up. However, with packing up comes an unsuspecting surprise: They left all of their stuff out while they were away. Ah ha! After collecting two handfuls of buttons (yes, I’m the kid who walks around with anywhere between 30-50 Borat buttons on his hoodie), I proceeded to strike the killing blow: I took the 9-foot Borat cardboard cutout.
Victory was assured! With Borat firmly in my grasp, I walked past the people who were still there for the “Stranger than Fiction” movie, looked at them, and proceeded to announce, “I’m taking Borat.” Rather puzzled, the representative opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Obviously he realized that I was slighted in seeing the advanced screening and was so taken aback by the sheer brilliance of my plan that nothing came out. Either that or he thought I should be wearing a helmet. In any case, he immediately phoned the Borat representatives and stated, “Someone is taking the Borat cutout.” However, the Borat team acquiesced to my great demands (either they personally screen the movie for me or Borat, quote unquote, “Gets it”) and I was one 9-foot tall Borat cutout richer.
Some other things happened too, like my beloved Cardinals winning the World Series, some old crotchety man telling me that the only way to improve the paper is to increase our sports section tenfold (which brings me to the point, do you think people would care about sports if the had play-by-play World of Warcraft reporting?), and even a wonderful seminar with the very funny Dave Glover (all of you, listen to his radio show during the week). However, one idea seemed to bring it all together and, dare I say, “Reigned Supreme.”
Where’s Borat now??? This seemingly simple, but oh so wonderful concept of putting this beloved monument to all that is man (yes, I am talking about my Borat cutout, wanna fight about it?) across campus and having readers identify his location is, as the Nobel Prize commission put it, astounding. Leave me comments. Where do you want to see Borat? Should we have a contest to identify his location? Let me know.
Until next time,
Kevin “I don’t have a funny nickname yet” Knocke
