Hungry Like the Wolf (pack)

In 1984, my Daddy took me to Greensboro (four hours away) on a school night to see Duran Duran. At that time, I was a Duran Duran-crazed 14-year-old girl who'd never had a boyfriend and believed Nick Rhodes would see her in the crowd and sweep her away to England. My Daddy sat in our seats holding all the Duran Duran merchandise I'd bought with my babysitting money while I ran down to get as close to them as I could. I screamed and cried through the entire show.

Yesterday, I took my Daddy to an N.C. State game and, because of a sponsorship project I did for work, we got to sit at a table on the court, just feet from the basket. We felt like total rock stars sitting there. We could see and hear everything our Wolfpack and Coach Lowe were doing. We both grinned like idiots through the whole game (Steve, who was in the stands, can confirm it) and our hands hurt from clapping.

So I don't know how to compare a 14-year-old girl's complete passion for seeing a poncy British band to a 66-year-old man's excitement at seeing his alma mater team kick some ass from a floor seat. There's no gauge. But I was pretty stoked at both. And I got to share them both with my Daddy.

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The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Don't judge me too harshly for being sarcastic. Note the "almost" below.


From: (my daddy)
Date: Dec 16, 2007 5:05 PM
Subject: Thanks
To: Leigh Ann Frink

L.A.

Thanks for a wonderful day together Saturday. It's been forty (40) plus years since I've attended a home Pack game. The time with you and the fabulous seats almost made the wait worthwhile. GO PACK!

Love you,

Daddy