Cheddar Goes To Space

Turns out I've been spending more time with my friend Euphoria than our sour buddy Despair as of late. With the way things have been shaking, Despair seems light-years away. I'm like King Midas these days, but everything I touch doesn't turn to gold. It turns to Cheddar.

Perhaps that's why I haven't been blogging at the same clip lately. Perhaps I fear that when I type, the keyboard will melt like a boiling pot of fondue at the touch of my magical hands. Or maybe the real reason is that February is a short month. Seems like we're gonna have to wait another two years to say "Cash Back" on February 29th.

Anyway, I just got back from the All-Star Game in Houston. From the moment I arrived, I knew it was going to be a special weekend. Almost immediately, I met Clyde Drexler, noticed that Kenny Smith wears a retainer, and met a Jeweler from West Hartford who I knew would emerge as a mentor for me as the weekend unfolded. This Jeweler's name was Marc Green.

Thursday night we ate at a Brazilian 'straunt and then got faced with this dude from Ecuador called Alejandro. Just like Marc Green, Alejandro did not initially take to me, but once we got to know one another, we had a few laughs and really connected I think. By the end of the night, he likened me to the character of Amadeus from the film Amadeus. At the time I thanked him, but as I pen this entry now, I wonder if it was a back-handed compliment. Homo proponit, Deus disponit, I suppose.

And it just got better from there. On Friday evening, Gritz, Gritz's bro (who happens to be my manager) Marc Green, Tcake and I chilled in the player's hotel before the Rookie Game. We were having the time of our lives. Suddenly, I heard my stomach growl. I hadn't eaten in a few hours and I was particularly hungry. I noticed that Rasheed Wallace had a huge order of Chick-fil-A, a franchise I have a deep connection with. At first I was bashful, but then I was like "Whatever, you're Cheddar Ted," and I walked over to 'Sheed and asked him for one of his nuggets. He looked at me like I was insane and said, "Nah." I looked at him back mad disappointed as if to say, "are you kidding me 'Sheed?" but I let it be and walked away without any nuggets. I then commented to Gritz that I would like to bathe in a pool of Polynesian sauce, but he was was too busy admiring Pat Garrity's Pea-Coat to listen. A wave of panic then washed over me as I made eye-contact with 'Sheed.

Luckily, 'Sheed didn't let the situation escalate and we made it to the Rookie Game in peace. At the Toyota Center, I became incredibly excited when I saw Kiki Vandeweghe. I shouted "Kiki! Kiki!" but he didn't respond or anything. Kiki must have a pretty bad sense of hearing because I was shouting very loudly from awful close. But it's ok Kiki. I'm sure the only sounds you hear are cheers from Madison Square Garden, the roars after a three-pointer from the wing.

After the Rookie Game we hit up an NBA party at the NASA space center. The highlights of this event were threefold. First, I had one of the best horseradish sauces I've ever tasted in my life on a handsome portion of rare roast beef. Second, I touched the heads of a few youngsters during the climax of a ride in a NASA flight simulator. Third, while I was in the bathroom some idiot let out the most cacophonous fart and the guy in the urinal next to me shouted, "Houston, we have a problem!" I yelled and slapped him five with my cory!

So far the weekend was just like the catch phrase my parents associated with my bar mitzvah party: "Nothing but Net!" Saturday afternoon, after I had already seen Nelly and Paul Wall perform and attended the Western Conference team practice at the Jam Session, I didn't think it could possibly get better. But it did. I walked into the Celebrity Dunk Contest with my cousin Xandy and on cue NICK CANNON WAS ATTEMPTING A BLIND-FOLDED DUNK! Are you fucking kidding me!?

The next day I had some extra fresh coffee and shot half-court shots at the hotel until it was time for the all-star game. We sat in the very last row of the entire arena, but it was still amazing and there happened to be a free pop-a-shot nearby so I snuck in a game at almost every commercial break. All in all the weekend was unreal. And that coffee was the most freshly brewed coffee I had ever tasted. Thank you Manuel...wherever you are.