The First Man I've Met So Far

I went to Stillwater for the OSU Homecoming; the festivities were gorgeous and crowed, and the city was flat and debilitated personalities. Leaving Stillwater, I felt like a person again. However, neither the crippling depression that waits for you there or the $50,000 dollar Greek lawn decorations were what made a lasting influence. The memory I left Stillwater with was of the man Stony Fath.

It's pronounced Faith. Stony Fath, like he was faith like a rock hard foundation, or like a stripper's name. Stony is 6'2", 220 lbs of lumberjack; he transferred to OSU after two years playing linebacker for the Air Force Academy still left something to be desired in life. He's kept a well trimmed beard and receeding hairline consistently since the tenth grade. Stony lives alone in a one room house decorated with oil paintings of small children. He's built most of his furniture and spends his time reading the Jewish Roman historian Josephus. I cannot make this up.

Saturday morning, after sleeping on an old futon where diseases are created, Stony woke me up and told me to get my clothes on, because "we're going to get the Don." Who is Don? Why are you in my room? These questions did not matter. I did what I was told.

He took me and several of the other backcountry boys that were sleeping in the same house to a Mom and Pop diner, where we waited in line with other Cowpokes for ten minutes. When the nine of us finally got to a table that seated six, instead of ordering, Stony told the waitress we just needed nine Dons. Why are there so many Dons? Can I have some coffee? These questions went unanswered.

I beheld the Don. Two pieces of Texas toast, upon which rested two hamburger patties, topped with several handfulls of fries, covered with grated cheese and white gravy. Only six of us finished. Stony finished first, then ate the rest of mine.