Danny Giffin

Our Box of Wheaties Champion

What we have here is a failure to communicate. Had the Wheaties folk simply seen him at Alhambra High, he would have been there on that box on your breakfast table. He knows it. He'd be there with a football or a baseball -- maybe even a javelin a la Bruce Jenner (never mind that he never threw a javelin, it makes for a good image). And after sitting with him for just a few moments listening to glory day stories about coaches who inexplicably declined playoff invitations fo the teams he played on during his senior year, you'll know it too. But hey, lemons are bitter and Danny's no lemon.

He welcomes you to call him Dan, Danny or even Danno if you get to know him well. But if you're going to call him Daniel, beware, as he might run off to clean his room -- it's a Pavlovian response ingrained in the membrane during his upbringing. There is something else you should be very clear about Denon & Doyle's blue-eyed baby boy (do I hear Paul Newman, anyone?): lying is one thing he does not do -- not ever (another one of those proper upbringing things we're so proud of him for).

Along with spinnin' the wheels of CD "steel"on the weekends, he's working toward being an Emergency Medical Technician. This explains why he's constantly checking the pulse of the party while DJing. He needs to make sure the beat is strong, the crowd's vitals are solid and their blood is pumping on the dance floor. Sometimes he'll even work his way out to the dance floor and jump in if the situation is right. Do not be alarmed by the stethoscope. He's a pro in training.

And at the end of the night when everything's gone just right, give him a high five and say, "thanks, Danno."Young blue eyes will appreciate it. And it'll help ease the sting of that whole Wheaties debacle.