No, that was not a misprint. The cast and crew of The Jason Show packed up and headed down to beautiful Pasadena, California, home of the famed Rose Bowl, for a UCLA football game.
I'll admit. I wasn't thrilled to be going to a football game. In fact, my first inclination was to politely decline, citing a bladder infection or that I had to wash my hair, or that I had to slowly pry my toenails off with pliers, one by one. But someone, who shall remain nameless but perhaps plays the wife in my relationship at times, coerced me into going. Yes, he coerced and guilted me into going, and he pulled the "we are gay dads and we need to expose our son to things outside of our comfort zone sometimes" card.
Well, the only reason I relented was because some of my very favorite people in the world were also going to be at the party, namely these favorite people:
In spite of how much fun I knew we were going to have, I was still a little sullen all day before we left for the game. Because, geez, it's the principle of the thing, you know? I have very strict standards to uphold, promises I made to myself, you know, blah, blah, blah.
As you can see, it took Diego a long time to come out of his shell and get into the whole excitement of tailgating.
Surprise, I had never been tailgating! I had it in my mind that it would just be a bunch of drunk rednecks shouting obscenities and getting all riled up over inconsequential things. But one thing I failed to realize is that the UCLA crowd is, most likely, a far cry from, say, this crowd:
(Not that there's anything wrong with that! In fact, the more I look at the Google-found photo, the more turned on I become.)
Moving right along.....
We took lots of pictures, including the ones that emphasized the sporty nature that JLo and I share. Notice, I am pointing out the UCLA on her shirt? Pretty sporty of me, isn't it?
The UCLA cheerleaders stopped by and cheered happy birthday to the birthday boy.
Then the UCLA marching band stopped and played, then sang happy birthday to the birthday boy.
Then I got a permanent UCLA tattoo on my leg. If THAT doesn't say sporty, then nothing does.
Then we were given field passes and we watched the players warm up for the game.
Yes, we were this close. Close enough to see that the pants are way too tight, not flattering at all, and that the players wear jock straps, along with maxi pads. Oh, yes they do. Or do they not? Someone correct me.
This is the shot that I posted on Facebook to prove that, yes, I did indeed take my son to a football game. I had to snicker at the supportive and impressed comments on the photo--I guess I kinda sorta let people believe that I orchestrated the whole thing.
But in the end, I had a good time, even without the use of alcohol or other mind-altering substances.
No, really, none of us had been drinking when this photo was taken. I like how this photo emphasizes my recent collagen injections. Now if I could only get in for a botox appointment for that forehead of mine.
One final admission: Diego and I left before halftime had even started because, in Diego's own uncanny, wise words, "Why don't they just keep playing? They play for like five seconds and then they stop for ten minutes for no reason! Can we just leave and go get a sandwich at Subway? I love Subway."
Why, yes, Diego, we certainly can.
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Special thanks to Julie, who invited us and lovingly helped me step outside my comfort zone.
