Rich Mom, poor Dad

For the first time ever I took my whole family to a Jazz game. My friend James gave me his tickets, and my Dad gave me his, so we were only two tickets short of being able to take the whole gang. Well, one ticket really. We only bought one, then snuck Bean in. We sat in our designated seats for the first half, with Kate, Whit and Samantha in my Dad's seats and me with Patrick and Bean across the arena. In the second half we found a whole empty row near the top of the arena, and went to sit up there. It was nice because we could let the kids run amok and not worry about them bothering anyone. It was a good time, even though the Jazz barely won against a woeful New York Knicks team.



We hit dinner at the old Crown Burger, and Kate told the kids to eat well, because she was not going to buy anything at the game. But at half time she broke down and bought them popcorn and soda. Then after the game she stopped and bought them Jazz memorabilia. The kids were shocked that someone would buy them stuff at the game, and the next day Patrick admitted that he'd rather go to the game with Kate than me because of it. "She buys me stuff." He admitted. What can I say? I'm cheap.



I was glad that the whole family went, especially Kate. I haven't been able to get her to go to a game with me for years. It all stems from an incident after game 6 of the 1998 NBA finals, when the JAzz lost to the Bulls. After the game I acted poorly and embarrased her. I think her renewed interest in the Jazz is tied directly to the acquisition of Kyle Korver, a shooting guard the Jazz got in a trade for Gordan Giricek. She thinks he's a handsome devil, and calls him Ashton Kutcher. I hate that she calls him that because I hate that Kutcher bastard and wish he'd die. Korver, on the other hand, is a good kid, and a damn fine shooter. Not that Kate will ever know that...