Parks, our oldest nephew, has just returned from a month-long school-related stay in Costa Rica. While we were in New Albany for the July 4th weekend (see selected photos here), I asked him about the high point of his trip.
“The strangest thing,” Parks said, “was meeting Matthew McConaughey.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“He was in this bar in Costa Rica, the place where everybody that’s anybody goes. I just walked right up and spoke to him.”
“What was he like?” I asked.
Parks grinned. “To be honest? He was a little … messed up.” Parks made his eyes bleary and staggered around the room. “Just call me Matteo,” he said, slurring his words. “That’s Matt-tay-oh.”
“Pretty creepy.”
Parks shook his head. “The weirdest part is how he walks.” Parks crouched slightly, bending both knees and holding his arms out to his sides, as though clutching the air for balance. He took several bobbing steps to the left, followed by several bouncing steps to the right. “Matt-tay-oh,” Parks said, squinting and slurring. “Just call me Matt-tay-oh.”
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