Let me be very clear: this is not about me.
Yes, I have an assortment of social media accounts. But I readily admit that I'm more a stalker than a poster. Other than this column, I don't put up anything. Mind you, I'm not casting aspersions on those that do. I just prefer to live my life a little quieter. If I'm being honest, I don't think that 95% of what I do is interesting to anyone besides my immediate family. And even then I'm not so sure.
Still, I do admit to occasionally scanning Facebook and Twitter and the like. I enjoy seeing some of the kid shots, some of the sassy comments, some of the new ventures in which people are involved. But it's hardly a regular thing. Yes, I'm sure I'm missing the latest cute cat picture, but it's a sacrifice with which I've made peace.
That helps to explain why I was ignorant to what I was happening around me. I was at the NBA All Star Game in New Orleans munching popcorn when three people sat down behind me. They looked like regular fans - a mom, dad and an older college-aged kid. Other than the fact that the woman had on a rather ugly sweater with "NBA Champs" on it, nothing made them stand out. I smiled and said hello, and turned back to the action on the floor. But while I wasn't really paying attention, I sensed a few people around me mildly excited by their presence. Indeed, some even got up and came over with comments like "I recognize that sweater. Are you really her? I love you! Can I get a picture?" They grabbed a selfie and went back to their seats. I began to wonder: who was "her?"
The game started, and I noted the three wildly applauding Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, two All Stars from the Golden State Warriors. I turned and asked if they too were from California. The son nodded and indicated his tee shirt, which had a Golden State logo on it. At the same time a person wearing official looking NBA credentials came over and had a quick conversation, checking on their seats, seeing how they were faring and thanking them for coming. None of that answered who she was, though she was obviously someone.
A few minutes later another NBA staffer came over, this one with a headset. He introduced himself to "Robin", and started to explain the drill. "You ready?" he began. Robin nodded. "So at the next timeout, here's how it will go. On the screen we'll do a ‘Wheel of Fortune' kind of thing. The first will be a robot cam, then a kiss cam. Next will be the Dancing Mom cam. We'll take 2 other random moms, then come to you. You should start, but keep going after they go on to the next. The announcer will suddenly realize it was you, and we'll come back. Then it's all yours. Any questions?" Robin indicated she understood completely.
Still not sure what I was sitting in front of, I realized that if she was going to be on camera, I would be that hapless guy in the foreground wondering what was happening behind him. I jumped up and sat down on the stairs across from my seat. I apologized to the guy I was crowding, but he was beaming watching Robin as well. So I asked him: who was she? Thankfully he knew it all. Robin Schreiber was a 60-ish retired school teacher and a 28-year season ticket holder who became an internet sensation when she jumped up to dance when the camera picked her up at a game in November. Since then, she has danced with the Warrior's cheerleaders at center court, Steph Curry and even Coach Steve Kerr. And she was about to do it again for the entire arena.
Sure enough, it went down just as described. First the people doing the robot, then a few kisses, then some other dancing moms, all to the audience's mild amusement. Then they came to Robin. She jumped up and started, and the place went wild. If you watch you'll see her patented hip pump, her hand waves and her arm flares. You'll see the people round her applauding and taking pics. But the best part?
You won't see me.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to keep a low profile. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
Yes, I have an assortment of social media accounts. But I readily admit that I'm more a stalker than a poster. Other than this column, I don't put up anything. Mind you, I'm not casting aspersions on those that do. I just prefer to live my life a little quieter. If I'm being honest, I don't think that 95% of what I do is interesting to anyone besides my immediate family. And even then I'm not so sure.
Still, I do admit to occasionally scanning Facebook and Twitter and the like. I enjoy seeing some of the kid shots, some of the sassy comments, some of the new ventures in which people are involved. But it's hardly a regular thing. Yes, I'm sure I'm missing the latest cute cat picture, but it's a sacrifice with which I've made peace.
That helps to explain why I was ignorant to what I was happening around me. I was at the NBA All Star Game in New Orleans munching popcorn when three people sat down behind me. They looked like regular fans - a mom, dad and an older college-aged kid. Other than the fact that the woman had on a rather ugly sweater with "NBA Champs" on it, nothing made them stand out. I smiled and said hello, and turned back to the action on the floor. But while I wasn't really paying attention, I sensed a few people around me mildly excited by their presence. Indeed, some even got up and came over with comments like "I recognize that sweater. Are you really her? I love you! Can I get a picture?" They grabbed a selfie and went back to their seats. I began to wonder: who was "her?"
The game started, and I noted the three wildly applauding Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, two All Stars from the Golden State Warriors. I turned and asked if they too were from California. The son nodded and indicated his tee shirt, which had a Golden State logo on it. At the same time a person wearing official looking NBA credentials came over and had a quick conversation, checking on their seats, seeing how they were faring and thanking them for coming. None of that answered who she was, though she was obviously someone.
A few minutes later another NBA staffer came over, this one with a headset. He introduced himself to "Robin", and started to explain the drill. "You ready?" he began. Robin nodded. "So at the next timeout, here's how it will go. On the screen we'll do a ‘Wheel of Fortune' kind of thing. The first will be a robot cam, then a kiss cam. Next will be the Dancing Mom cam. We'll take 2 other random moms, then come to you. You should start, but keep going after they go on to the next. The announcer will suddenly realize it was you, and we'll come back. Then it's all yours. Any questions?" Robin indicated she understood completely.
Still not sure what I was sitting in front of, I realized that if she was going to be on camera, I would be that hapless guy in the foreground wondering what was happening behind him. I jumped up and sat down on the stairs across from my seat. I apologized to the guy I was crowding, but he was beaming watching Robin as well. So I asked him: who was she? Thankfully he knew it all. Robin Schreiber was a 60-ish retired school teacher and a 28-year season ticket holder who became an internet sensation when she jumped up to dance when the camera picked her up at a game in November. Since then, she has danced with the Warrior's cheerleaders at center court, Steph Curry and even Coach Steve Kerr. And she was about to do it again for the entire arena.
Sure enough, it went down just as described. First the people doing the robot, then a few kisses, then some other dancing moms, all to the audience's mild amusement. Then they came to Robin. She jumped up and started, and the place went wild. If you watch you'll see her patented hip pump, her hand waves and her arm flares. You'll see the people round her applauding and taking pics. But the best part?
You won't see me.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford tries to keep a low profile. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
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