Remember my Karaoke Kutie, Kenny? (Forced alliterations are still a beautiful thing)
A little refresher: He's the lovely bottle cap glasses-wearing crooner that performs on one-car trains. His favorites? He loves Alicia Keyes and, while it doesn't need to be said, he REALLY loves himself some MJ (That's Jackson, if you're nasty).
Anywhoo, there he was again today, on my train, sitting a few rows ahead of me. He had his weather appropriate huge sunglasses on, a backwards hat and a bright green cut-off shirt. And what was he drinking? Why, a sippy cup full of chocolate milk, of course; which he was so graciously offering to those around him. He had his white boom box but singing was the last thing on his mind. He was to busy reaching into his knapsack and showing off his many libations. Gatorade, Coke and of course, more mmm, mmm, yum, chocolate milk. But as funny as a grown man drinking chocolate milk out of a sippy cup with bottle cap sunglasses on is; that's really not the point of this story. I know it's taking a long time to get the point (I am a rambler), but it's a hard point for me to get to.
As he was zipping up his backpack, he looked up spotted me, wiggled his fingers and yelled out in his lovely little nasally voice, "Hi Erin..."
After getting over the initial shock that he remembered my name, I smiled, focused for a second and noticed something that was all too serendipitous. At that moment, I knew how much I was going to hate telling you and how much you were going to love knowing it. The crazy crooner, famous for his one-car sing-alongs, well, (deep breath) he was wearing an Oregon shirt.*

Side note: I stick by my Ducks and the fact that I went to an accredited Journalism school. Some disloyal dumbie dropped that shirt at the Goodwill and Kenny just happened to find it. He has no association with my Alma-mater. Got it?