I think Snar has your mullet

One of the most fascinating and beautiful things about language is how you can sometimes hear a phrase that you are 96.4% certain has never been uttered in the history of the world. A certain string of words that has most likely never been put in that order before, but that makes perfect sense in the context it was uttered in.

The title to this post is one such example of this phenomenon.

To give you the full background on this story requires us to travel.... BACKWARD IN TIME-IME-IME-IME... come with me, if you will, to Tuesday, May 15^th.

I was instant messaging with my good old buddy Billy; he and I met our freshmen year at University and immediately recognized a kindred spirit of the first degree. And, of course, by kindred spirit, I mean, "completely insane person in whom I see reflected my own insanity." This is the guy on whose knee I broke my nose in 1995, when he pretended to slam my head into his knee and I pretended to let him. He's been living in SF for the past six years or so, but I still hadn't made it over to see him since I'd moved down here.

So Billy and I are chatting online. This used to be a fairly regular occurrence, but it was the first time we'd both been online at the same time in months. (That's coincidence #1, for those of you scoring at home; it will become more significant later in the story.) Our conversation lags for awhile, as IM conversations tend to do, and then Billy pops back up again to tell me that our friend Duward is going to be in town.

Quick background within the background: Duward went to high school with Billy; Billy and I graduated in 1993 and met at UW that year; and the following year Duward graduated and came to UW. He and Billy were roommates at the beginning of the '94-95 school year, and I lived down the hall. Duward and I became fast friends, and ended up roommates for the last half of that year and the whole next year. He's one of those friends that I can not see for years and then, when we do end up in the same place, it's just like it always was.

So. Back to our story. Billy says, "Duward is going to be in town this weekend." I, of course, assume he means San Francisco; but no. He means Davis. His wife's best friend is going to vet school at UC Davis, and they're going to be in town visiting her. Weird coincidence #2: I'm in Davis for less than two months, and a good old friend who I haven't seen in years happens to be coming to, not just the area, but the actual tiny town where I've landed.

So they come in on Friday, and I hang out with them—Duward, his wife Julie, her best friend Maggie, her boyfriend Peter—on Friday night and then, on a whim, go into San Fran the following day for a bbq at their friends' place in the city.

So the bbq was great fun, and it turned out to be a precursor to the city-wide tradition, to be taking place the day after, called "Bay to Breakers" (or "beta blockers," as we called it). Bay to Breakers is what you would call a freak parade. Literally thousands of people get up super early, put on costumes, and walk 9 miles from the Bay to the ocean. I don't suppose I need to mention that there is copious drinking involved (our friends had nine—NINE!!!—kegs chained up at various points throughout the route), but I do think it bears mentioning that all laws against consuming alcohol in public seem to go out the window, at least on this particular day.

Our little group (Duward, Julie, Maggie, and me) didn't stick around for the parade, so we were still lounging in half-sleep mode while everyone else was getting ready on Sunday morning. Another old college buddy who went to high school with Billy and Duward, Flavius, was lagging behind the rest of the Bay to Breaker marchers. He had brought a mullet wig to wear during the march, and he couldn't find it. He was just standing in the middle of the room, looking over and over again in the same three places (allowing me to break out one of the best Simpsons' lines ever: "ya gotta help me! I've tried nuthin' and I'm all out of ideas!"). Eventually we determine that the mullet wig is indeed gone... but in its place is a different wig that was brought by a guy named "Snar." So somebody (it's unclear at this point who actually said it first) turns to Flavius and says, "I think Snar has your mullet."

And yes, I did just tell a story that prominently featured people named "Duward," Flavius," and "Snar." Which, I think, makes the whole thing even better.