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 Ed's Note - It
should be explained up front that this attempt at a lampoon was crafted by the
infamous and aforementioned Mr. Atwater who gathered most of the information
during his previously discussed, and overly brief, infiltration of the Goliard inner
circle. It can be assumed therefore that the piece was written in
attempted retaliation for what Atwater likely perceives as a slight on his
character and tennis game and should be read with that motive in
mind. It is also worth noting that due to his status during that
time as "suspicious interloper", he may not have been
given accurate material or been allowed to witness the true behavior
of the staff. As a service, the Goliard editors will offer footnotes of explanation and
clarification along the way which will help add believability and coherence to the
effort and serve to maintain the integrity of the writing thus preserving
the standard to which Goliard readers of this space have become accustomed.
Out of deference to those who have been examined here in the past
and might feel that this is an unfair liberty taken by those
currently being skewered while they also control what finally goes
to press, the comments and clarifications have been kept out of
sight so that one might feel free to ignore the parenthetical links and
experience the account on it's own merit.
Mick O'Connell
If one were to first encounter the prolific and mysterious editor
Mick O'Connell outside of the busy offices of The Goliard, one
wouldn't expect that he had ever written anything not involving Big
Chief® tablets and Crayolas® or edited anything more substantial than
the stall wall of a shitter. (1)
His deceptively active lifestyle of swimming, whining,
canoeing, grousing, tennis, darts, dog-rearing, cavorting with illegals,
beer drinking, mountain biking, baseball spectatoring, gambling away
his wife's money, golfing (if you wish to call it that),
cigar-smoking, racquetballing, and spending time pleading for forgiveness
for above, would
seem to preclude him from logging in any serious time in front of a word
processor. Additionally, these multiple activities that O'Connell profoundly enjoys would lead one to believe that he leads something
of a happy
life which would make him unfamiliar with the inner demons that
plague most other writers of equal talent and success.
Furthermore, Mick does not exude the "moody loner"
personality known to result from the quiet desperation that has
historically stoked the story-telling fires of writers as celebrated as
Dostoevsky, Thoreau, Salinger and Dr. Seuss (that Green Eggs and Ham was a
true cry for help). Indeed, with the exception of his weekly commute
to his job at a prison in rural Arizona, (where, as the
librarian of a "country-club" security facility he
receives top dollar, works on-site only twice a week, gets to wear
his favorite pair of Birkenstocks each day, and claims not to
"hate his job enough to move back to Seattle") Mick is hardly
ever alone. (2)
While surrounding himself with a variety of folks could be a conscious strategy for preventing his "dark side"
from surfacing, it appears more likely that his good-natured
personality has led others to seek out his friendship. Indeed, O'Connell
reminds one Goliard employee of a former fraternity brother
of his, who was always placed in charge of the social events because
he seemed to inspire good times simply by being in the proximity of
other people (although, come to think of it, he did have an uncle who owned a discount
liquor store). Another staffer who recently earned his degree in TV
studies at the University of Arizona claims to have seen a parallel
between members of thegoliard.net and the television series Cheers and argues that
Mick,
like "Norm," is actually at the center of his social
circle. While this may not be general consensus, there do seem to be
some similarities between O'Connell's character and that of Norm's.
Norm and O'Connell both dislike their work yet do not quit (3)
and it must be
remembered that Norm sticks with this job that he mildly dislikes for
several seasons, despite the fact that he sneaks out of the
ventilation duct of his office in order to catch a round of drinks
at the pub. Also like Norm, O'Connell is the most quick-witted of the
cast here at the Goliard, and usually has the best punch lines,
especially after Chazire ("Cliff") begins to share
knowledge gained from a questionable source or when the Snapper
("Sam") lets his guard down after he's had half a beer.(4)
O'Connell's size may also lead one to see similarities between him and
the portly man who held up his end of the bar for so many years. At
6'8" and 350 lbs., O'Connell more closely resembles the boozing
accountant than any other character on the show. In reality, with
his "I'm not going to shave for 'the man'" grooming
regimen, O'Connell bears a closer resemblance to Grizzly Adams (a man
he claims to have beaten in a Square Dance Competition) or WWF's
"the Undertaker." (5)
His size, somewhat course appearance, and incredible appetite for beer
however, severely
limit his abilities on the tennis court as well. While he serves the
ball at speeds deemed unsafe by the USTA and NASCAR, his projectile
rarely finds the service box, leaving him to rely instead on his
ground strokes, which occasionally find the mark but lead more
skilled players to ignore the alleys and to instead poach for the
middle of the court. (6)
In fact, Mick's greatest feat on
tennis night takes place not on the court but afterwards at the
friendly neighborhood tavern, where he is recognized nearly as
quickly as Norm was when he entered Cheers. The lovely waitresses
have come to expect and rely on his business once a week, since
none of the other Goliard staffers are able to keep up with this
skilled drinking champion. (7)
In part, his ability to "put
down" massive amounts of beer at one sitting remind staffers of
King Cambrinus and can perhaps be attributed
to his extremely large bladder, which he empties each night on the
bushes that line the walls of the bar. (8)
Mick's affable nature definitely reflects his comfortable
lifestyle, one that would seem to lack any of the drama that can
only find its outlet in literature. However, information from fellow
Goliard writers who have known O'Connell for decades, and a file that
we, the Atwaters (or are we the Atwoods?) put together reveals that
the comforts that Mick currently enjoys were hard-fought. According
to the testimonies of these people, Mick's lifestyle once was
extremely different. As few as six years ago, it seemed to his
closest friends that Mick would never find happiness or, for that
matter old age. These years, which we shall present below represent the
"lean years" of O'Connell's existence and are the fuel for many
of the stories that he tells today, both in the form of prose as
well as in the form of conversation while he attempts to light his
hand-rolled cigar for the seventeenth time.
Mick was born in the
early sixties to parents who decided early on to let him make his
own decisions and mistakes with minimal input from them hoping that
he'd learn more that way. They still can't be sure if the decision
was the right one. "Mick would always do all the wrong things
for all the right reasons," his father used to say. "We
never worried about him getting into any serious trouble but he was
always pissing everyone off and constantly at odds with authority. He was
forever being kicked out of
school for this and that and the teachers were always sure he was
cheating because he would never show his work or take any books
home. We also moved around quite a bit and that may have had
something to do with it. Mick spent second grade in Palo Alto, CA,
third in Vermont, and fourth he missed all together instead running
around the streets of Quito, Ecuador with a gang of local hooligans.
Then a dude ranch in Colorado, a private school, an inner city razor
wire type place from which he was expelled for participating in a
racial episode between races not his own.... In hindsight, Mick may
have benefited from some stability and routine but we just didn't
have it to give."
(9) - By
his teen years Mick was already tall and perhaps even handsome by Piolline's reckoning. However,
Piolline is not actually gay himself and perhaps his judgment
is not the best, yet we must rely on his statement that women did
find O'Connell attractive. Mick, however, was more interested in
playing with dolls. His favorite pastime was sewing the latest
fashion in miniature so that he could dress his Barbies and display
them in competitions. When the Barbie national convention arrived at
the TCC in 1983, Mick was prepared to win the grand prize for
creative costuming. You can imagine that Mick stood out like a turd
in the punch bowl at this affair, though he apparently had never
felt happier and even took fourth prize. And while O'Connell did not win the
grand prize that year, he did win the love of a fellow competitor who
thought she greatly admired Mick's
sensitivity. The young lady was persistent in obtaining Mick and while she was
not liked by his friends, she did gain the alliance of his
parents. Before Mick knew it, Dr. and Mrs. O'Connell had arranged-some
say paid-for the young lady to take Mick's hand, thereby freeing theirs of
his costly burden. It must be remembered that in those days beer was
practically forced upon children and was certainly available in
large quantities to Mick. He had already developed enough of a
drinking habit to require a part-time job at the now defunct River
Racquet Club. Since the young (and much skinnier) O'Connell lost this
job when he and a fellow night watchman burned down the club's
kitchen after sneaking in through the dumbwaiter, he had no source
of income, and had also accumulated great debt from the fire that
engulfed this once-state-of-the-art tennis facility. Upon learning
that his parents had arranged for him to marry this young woman, Mick
hopped a Union Pacific train bound westward. While he
forfeited his Barbie collection, he earned his freedom.
The next ten
years of O'Connell's life proved to be difficult for him. Mick had no
other choice but to join the ranks of those who worked in the oldest
of professions. Yet, as a very tall and imposing young man who never
did quite fit into the purple jumpsuit and leopard-skinned heels
given to him by his first pimp, (A vicious psychopath who called
himself the "Pope" and who was known for abusing his
ladies by throwing darts at them), Mick had a difficult time
earning money. He was rarely employed for the conventional desires.
Instead he would be called out of the dugout as a "relief
pitcher" or to do the work that the other girls refused to take
on. Mick became the girl who said "yes," where others
said "no." This "lost decade of debauchery" and
of earning his $47.50 "the hard way" accounts for the
descriptions of sexual abuse found in his writings. Often characters
are depicted as being "anally abused" with police batons
and other objects, are routinely defecated upon, and are occasionally bitter
enough to travel long distances in search of revenge against sodomy.
O'Connell's lack of success on the west coast circuit brought him back
home to Tucson with a head full of stories and a renewed interest in
school. He hired a new pimp, a real seedy character known as the
"Weeze." His days of hustling were brought to an abrupt
end, however, after an encounter on the side of the road with an
undercover cop left him with a dislocated shoulder and ten days in
the slammer. His brief time "inside" was enough for O'Connell
to decide that he had to give up hooking, find a good woman, a job
that he didn't hate too much, reconcile with his parents and to use
writing as an outlet for his pain. Now, during his two days on the
job each week, he is able to look at prison from the other side of
the bars, where he is much more comfortable, especially since he won
the massage table from Charles Keating in a poker match. With six
years under his belt, O'Connell has rehabilitated himself to the point
that no one would ever call him a "fairy" ever again. One
look at the bathroom that Mick has designated for himself in his
spacious house, with his stack of Playboys on the toilet tank and the
grime on the floor that comes only from not cleaning and allowing
four hundred pounds worth of dogs (the two loveable Newfoundlands
proudly showcased on the website) to sleep in the shower, and it
becomes clear that O'Connell will never wear fishnet stockings again,
not even for a chance to win tickets to the World Series in a radio
contest. Mick has even managed to satisfy his lingering oral
fixation by smoking cigars, which is a traditionally male activity
and does not draw anyone's suspicion. So, Mick O'Connell's many years
adrift have shaped who he is and have made him a better writer for
it. His literary pursuits are the fruit of over a decade of
wanderlust and should serve as a lesson to us all that there are
many paths to the land of goliardic enlightenment. For that reason,
and for the fact that the exposure of his secret life could lead to
the ass-kicking of some of us here, we salute Mick O'Connell as the
Master of Ceremonies. (10)
It must be noted at this point that, in
keeping with the tradition of the space, a description of a
situation when the lampooned has provided food for
the Goliard's banquets is described and a recipe included. The
Atwater file fails to include one, however, only mentioning that O'Connell
is "gifted in the kitchen." Other staffers suspect that he eats a lot of red meat, mostly T-bone steaks cooked
rare but, when consulted on the matter, confessed
that they either arrived after dinner or drank so much that they
couldn't remember any details of his "meat lover's grill". One writer does
recall that O'Connell cooked on a
small hibachi grill and often singed his eyebrows in an attempt to
light it since he does not have a charcoal chimney but instead
relies on lighter fluid. Beyond this observation, however, he felt
that O'Connell's grilling technique was laissez-faire yet successful.
He passed on a brief description of O'Connell's barbecuing habits
which we include in the recipe space on the main
page.
Bonus Recipe
Hot and Spicy Soup
4 quarts chicken broth 1 pint water Boil until pork is tender. 1
pkg. pork stew meat, sliced into match stick pieces. Add to broth
and boil 5 minutes: 1 pkg. frozen peas and carrots ½ pkg. bean tofu
White pepper & salt to taste Add just enough liquid cornstarch
to thicken broth. Stir and then add: 1 small can bamboo shoots (cut
small) 2-3 Tbs. hot chili oil (equal to 1 to-go cup size) ½ bunch
chopped green onions Stir well and add a few drops red food
coloring. Add 2-3 Tbs. Rice wine vinegar Stir in 2 eggs, slightly
beaten. Stir on low 2-5 minutes. Serve.
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