It's been a while, but Fat Dub and I have successfully finished our AP tests. I'm not going to speak for Will here, because frankly I have no clue what his schedule is, but my school year is all but over. This means more blogging for all of you (in truth, it really doesn't. I said the same thing last year, and I posted next to nothing at all). After my last post, the Penn Relays one, I got an email from Chris Murphy, the man I quoted calling me a "slow, white teenager." First, some background information.
The Sobel's and the Murphy's have been friends for a while (BFFE's if you will). Chris has a daughter, Line, who is best friends with my sister Sizzie. If you don't know Line, she is one of the more annoying human beings on the face of the planet Earth. Besides the non-stop talking or the unrelenting desire to be perfect at everything she does, there is just something about Line that bothers me. (If you couldn't tell, I thoroughly enjoy annoying her. And no, her name is not actually Line.) Chris also has a man-child son named Kevin, and a wife, Connie. If you ever end up making a trip over to the Murphys house, you will sooner die than leave without eating. Literally. Chris will hold you down and Connie will force feed you (They've done it to me before. The food was actually pretty good). And probably the most important thing you will learn about Chris is that he is a lawyer.
Anyway, I suppose Chris took some offense to me quoting him on the blog, judging by the fact that he took time out of his work day to email me about it, and subsequently attempting to clear his name. Yes, I use attempting for a specific reason. I put in my two cents where I deemed necessary, in italics.
Ben -- Please feel free to post this one your blog: (This is a clear sign that he is emailing me exclusively for the blog. I know all you really want is publicity, Chris. So I'm giving it to you. Partly because I'm a nice guy, but mostly because I have very little to write about.)
While I am somewhat honored to have been mentioned in your recent blog post on the Penn Relays, I must protest your "loose" journalistic ethics (The quotation marks were painfully unnecessary.) In particular, you attribute to me a certain quotation that I cannot ever recall stating. Now, given that I have known you since before you even knew how to write with a fat crayon, I feel somewhat well positioned to offer two specific criticisms to speed you on your way to journalistic fame and fortune. First, as a result of our relationship, you know that certain people close to both of us (e.g., your mother) often like to attribute quirky or irreverent comments to me. While I have consistently denied ever having made the attributed comments, I must admit that I find it interesting and humorous that anyone could think I might actually have made the comments in question. Knowing of my consistent denials, I would have expected you to have the journalistic "cojones" to have approached me for confirmation before publishing your wildly inaccurate quote. Second and regarding the quotation itself, I do not deny calling you slow, but I fail to see why you feel the need to play the race card (well played); I would have been only slightly less appalled had you replaced "white" with "Lithuanian" or "kielbasa-loving." (It's funny he mentioned kielbasa-loving. While it is true that I do love a good dish of kielbasa and sauerkraut, I actually gave some of my kielbasa to Chris when he came over. He was eating it when he asked me about track, and that's when the quote in question was stated by the defendant. I can speak lawyer too, chachi.) You are rapidly approaching the age at which you must come to grips with your own limitations and looking for excuses for your glaring lack of pace will only delay the inevitable day of reckoning (Your attempt to make me experience a premature epiphany of my track ability has failed, for I have already realized it a long, long time ago). Having said that, I must admit that I have thoroughly enjoyed your pieces in the Panther Press and your tongue-in-cheek view of life at SHHS. One final thought about my appearance in your blog -- it proves the maxim attributed to Derek Bok, former president of Harvard: "I think the measure of your success to a certain extent will be the amount of things written about you that aren't true." (Chris, I have no idea how you hunted this quote down. It impresses me, except, unfortunately, it really isn't applicable, because the "wildly inaccurate quote" you claim to have never said actually did come out of your mouth.)
A few days after this email, Jeffrey J. and I actually went to the Phillies game, courtesy of Chris Murphy. He was there of course, and we got to enjoy the game in the box. It was Dollar Dog Night, but in a suite you don't pay for any food, so the promotion was null. I had some other nice food, and got to take home pretty much all the desserts. All in all, Jeffrey J. and I thoroughly enjoyed our evening, and Chris continued to deny his "white teenager" quote. I was willing to let bygones be bygones, but Chris just wouldn't let it go. I felt obligated to put it on here, and I've finally gotten arond to it. So you're welcome, Chris.
I'm not including a video. I'm sure the three people (Grandmom, Grandpop, and that one viewer in Santa Clarita, California) that have actually finished this post are crying.
Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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