I am a proud alumnus of the University of Kentucky and as such, a huge college basketball fan. I followed in the footsteps of the uber fan, Ashley Judd and started as a French major. I quickly decided to double major in marketing because the prospects of finding a job with just a French degree didn’t seem to grow on trees. I certainly wasn’t following Ashley any further than the UK Campus and into Hollywood.


As proof of my loyalty, here I am last year at the National Championship in Indianapolis. For those of you who don’t follow or just don’t remember, Kentucky was undefeated going into the finals and on the threshold of history. Alas, they lost in the first round and now on to a new year of basketball.


Fast forward to February 2016 and I’m in Amsterdam at the ISE show, the largest Audio Visual show in the world. After taking in the show, my colleague and I decided to sample of the local fare. I asked my friend Sara Abrons from rAVe publications and she commenced with a small history lesson to explain her recommendation.

Indonesia was a Dutch colony back in the day and to brag about their conquest, they wanted to showcase the breadth of spices imported from the colony. This came in the form of an Indonesia “tasting table” which is not Indonesian at all but the result of the peacock feathered bragging meal made palatable for the Dutch and now I’m sure for the tourists like myself.

Presented with about 20 plates and a warming tray, we dove in to a wonderful display. It was a small place with a varied décor – suffice it to say kind of like an Indonesian/Dutch TGI Friday’s with all sorts of pictures, signs and license plates on the walls. I’m looking at these licensed plates and notice some of them are from America when suddenly, I see a familiar face next to the Oliver North for President:


I say to my colleagues, “That’s a UK license plate!” He contends it has to be from the United Kingdom. I remind him that all four years at UK, I worked as a cashier at Kennedy Book Store and rang up THOUSANDS of those plates! Upon further examination, it was confirmed.

Walking back to the hotel (or should I say rolling after 20 courses of Indonesian tasting plate), we are rounding the corner which is adjacent to the MOMO restaurant. By day it’s a sun drenched breakfast nook. By night, it becomes a swanky restaurant/club. Curious, I look through the window at the D.J. Low and behold:


The guy is wearing a Kentucky Wildcats shirt! I tell my colleague that we have to go in and get photographic evidence because no one would believe me. I walk in and the hostess asked me if I had a reservation and I told her, “I’m with the D.J”

They guy was surprised when I ran up to him, complimenting his shirt. He said he got it at a second hand clothing shop in Amsterdam and didn’t even know what it was. He liked the color. I tried to explain it was the greatest college basketball team in the U.S. but I could tell it was no use. It was, in fact, a good color on him. Go Wildcats!

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