It is my honor to introduce the winner of this year’s xtcian NCAA Basketball Pool: the delightful UNC alumna Julie Peterman, who navigated her way through some crazy regional matchups en route to destiny with the Heels. I acquiesce the lectern…
Wow, what an honor it is (and a bit scary too, I might add) to be at the
helm today! My name is Julie Peterman, and you know the funny thing is –
I’ve met Ian only once in my life, the briefest of handshakes at a Chi
Psi party at which I was the tag-along guest of my roommate who had just
starting dating a senior member of the fraternity. I don’t remember much
about the rest of the party, but I do remember that was when I started
reading “Wednesday’s Child” with earnest.
So that is my connection, and since my 4-year stint in Chapel Hill
(the last of which corresponded with the 1993 Championship), I have returned
back to my childhood home, completed graduate work, married,
have had two kids (boys aged 6 and 4), and currently work at one
of those troublesome “banks” working my tushy off to educate clients
about risks and rewards for owning unrated (not junk bonds just
not rated by the Big 3 rating agencies) tax-exempt bonds,
specifically healthcare bonds.
I thought that since I write for a living, I could come up with
something easily for this, but you know, it’s a lot harder than I
thought, so I say Kudos to Ian for keeping this blog so lively and doing
it so well. In the end, I have decided to briefly mention two things
(completely unrelated) that’s been going on in my world; I think that
fits well into the overall theme here.
First, is the issue of memories. With the recent b-ball season, it’s
been a lot of fun watching my older son, Alex, really “get into” the
game. He’s cheered Tyler on, got upset when Zeller broke his hand,
agonized (if you can really call it that for a 6-year old) about whether
or not Lawson would play, and even screamed some very funny things
about each one of our opponents and why he didn’t like them/why he
didn’t want them to win.
He also likes “Julie stories” when he goes to bed, so I
have helped fuel this interest with all kinds of stories about my
memories of UNC basketball while I was in college-how I camped out for
tickets, got trampled when the numbers for the Duke game were handed out
during my freshman year, how my roommate and I bought our way in Cameron
during my junior year to see Hubert and the boys play (and lose pretty
badly, as I remember), etc. So when we won the NCAA championship, I
started telling stories about that night in 1993, especially as we all
raced up Airport Road (I know now MLK Blvd, but some things will always
be the way they were), and headed toward Franklin Street.
He loves to hear the story about the blue paint ending up in my hair, on my face,
and all over my coat and loves to ask me why I just didn’t move out of the way.
To better answer that question, I showed him the time lapse video of Franklin Street
from this year to show the sheer number of people, but after about 30 seconds he walked away.
I asked him why he didn’t find it interesting – he said it seemed quite stupid and boring.
Hrumpf. I asked if my stories were boring since I was just
telling him basically the same thing he was seeing, and he said no.
Why, I ask. Because you remember it differently.
His comment made me think though, about memories, why some remain etched
forever (and I mean the random ones, not like the ones of what you did
after a national championship, where were you during 9/11 or when
Kennedy was shot or the like), why some are in the background but are
pushed forward in some odd moment-like that ones that come out during
story time since Alex gets to decide the topic and I must come up with
the story, and why some are lost forever, like the rest of the Chi Psi
party where I was the tag-along guest.
That was the first; the second is less complex and more of a question
for everyone who reads. Does the allowance system still exist? For those
who have tried it, was it effective (and I mean effective in curbing the
all-too-often “I want this xyz toy!” demands since said child, after
earning enough money, could then purchase wanted toy or decide to not
purchase and save for something better)? And, what is the going rate to
start with for a 6-year old?
Thanks, again, Ian, for hosting the bracket challenge. I’ve enjoyed this
blog for a while now and look forward to it every day (as part of my 20
personal minutes that I’m allowed to have on the Internet per day at