Mystery, Solved

One time my college education came in handy.

Mid-mornings, I like to take a walk to clear my mind.

Yesterday, toward the end of my stroll, two people approached. From a distance, I thought they were a couple, but as they got closer, I could see they were father and daughter. The father smiled; I smiled back. Suddenly, looking into my eyes, he yelled, “GABADA!” while pumping his fist and laughing. I was alarmed but returned the laugh. I didn’t want to piss off a madman.

Continuing home, I wondered why a man who looked like Rick Moranis would scream gibberish at me. GABADA! Crazy eyes! Fist pump! Hahaha!

Now, my hearing is atrocious, and when I’m daydreaming, I’m essentially deaf. Maybe GABADA! was good day to you! But even I, with a low bar-set for shit I’ll politely laugh at, don’t consider good day to you! even remotely funny.

GABADA! Maybe glorious day? It was pleasant out, but I would argue someone who uses the word “glorious” is not a fist-pumper. GABADA! Great day to be alive? That might explain the fist pump, but not the conspiratorial eye-catch.

Back home, I took off my Yale sweatshirt and put it on a hook in the closet, which is when it hit me.

Go Bulldogs!