Six Pack Sunday

In the summer of 2004, I had a weekly ritual with Shouldice that for some reason we believed was centered around religion. Every Sunday was Six Pack Sunday. Now, here is what Six Pack Sunday's entailed. First of all, the two of us had this theory, and to be honest I truly think we firmly believed it, that Sunday was God's day, and if God were to drink beer, God would drink "good" beer out of a bottle, and he wouldn't drink more than six. So every Sunday the two of us would meet up in some remote location, most likely the parking lot in front of Towson High or the parking lot in front of Sports Authority, and than we would venture out to purchase our six pack. Being that we were under the philosophy that God would only drink "good" beer we usually resorted to buying a six pack of Miller Lite or Rolling Rock, because when you've spent the whole summer consuming an ungodly amount of Beast Light and Schaffers Light, Miller Lite and Rolling Rock seem like the nectar of the gods. Plus, our parent's drank Miller Lite and Rolling Rock and we had another theory that if they were drinking it, it must be good. So once we found a place that would accept our horrible form of identification, we would than drive around aimlessly waiting for the sun to go down. Since we were 19 and both returning home from our freshman year of college, we lacked a lot of places to consume adult beverages, so once the sun had set, we would go to Riderwood Elementary and slowly sip on our "good bottled beer" because that's what God would be doing if he were in Towson. That was another rule we had to six pack Sunday, you couldn't chug. We had done enough chugging during the week, and plus God wouldn't chug beer, so we had to sip. Throughout the course of the summer, we tried to bring other people into the idea of Six Pack Sunday, but most of them just looked at us like we were two insane stricken kids, especially when we started to explain our theory regarding the day. Eventually the summer came to an end and Shouldice returned to Frostburg, and the next time he was in Towson for a while, well the two of us were getting an apartment together, and well, everyone knows what went on in that place.


I was watching Baseball Tonight the other day, and the Colorado Rockies have a fine young outfielder by the name of Dexter Fowler. I have never had the opportunity to meet good ol' Dex, but I have had the opportunity to meet another Fowler. Shelly Fowler. It was the spring of 2003 and my parents headed out of town for the weekend, my younger brother was also out of town that weekend, so I had the house to myself. Now, when a 17 year old high school senior has the house to himself for the weekend, a 17 year old high school senior has a party. Various kids from Towson High School are coming into my humble abode and my buddy Dane shows up with a blond haired 15 year old name Shelly. After several rounds of quarters, I started to catch the attention of this young blond. After several more rounds of quarters, someone at the party got the word, that there was an even bigger party right down the street at Danie Mosca's house and my whole party was soon on the way. Next thing I know, it's nearly 3 A.M. and I'm walking back into my house hand-in-hand with Ms. Fowler, only to find one surprise. My parents had decided to return home early and my Dad is sitting at the kitchen table drinking one of the Miller High Life's that were left from the party. At 17, this was the first time I had ever encountered my parental units after a few adult beverages, and it was a bit intimidating for myself, and than there's Shelly. The poor girl, realized what was going on and was trying to hide herself behind me. My father than asked me to introduce him to my girlfriend and when I than explained that it wasn't my girlfriend in fact she came with another guy, the poor girl got even more embarrassed. To make matters worse, we called Dane back, and he looped back to take the girl home. I mean it was kinda a low blow on my part,taking the girl from the guy and than having him take her home, but I think the kid got over it, were good friends to the day. As for Shelly, well I got her number via a piece of paper from Dane in class sometime the next week, and hung out in her hot tub one day. But, she soon realized that 17 year old boys can be horrible people at times, and we went our separate ways. Several years later though, I did receive a phone call from her, she had had a few too many and forgotten who John G was in her cell phone and decided to make a phone call and find out and that was the last time I ever heard from the lovely Shelly Fowler.