It's That Time of Year

This is my nephew Riley. He doesn't usually look so disheveled, but I think it's a funny picture so I opted to use it. The lady that keeps Riley during the day while my brother and sister-in-law are at work is the mom of my brother’s best friend, Birdie. Birdie moved to Alabama from Mexico sometime during gradeschool. He speaks perfect English, but his mother still speaks strictly Spanish. So Riley has learned a lot of Spanish from staying with her, which I think is great. Two odd things have occurred as a result of this:

1) Riley gets angry if his dad (my brother) speaks Spanish. Nobody is sure why. Last time I was visiting Alabama, my brother showed me.

“Vamanose,” he said to Riley as he stood up to leave.

In response, Riley screwed up his face and shoved him.

2) Sometimes when Riley is speaking Spanish it sounds like cursing. For awhile he went through a phase where he’d continuously point at things and say, “Asshole.” Everybody would be like, “Riley! We don’t use that kind of language.” It turns out he was just telling us the color of those things. He was saying the Spanish word for blue (azul).

FALLING INTO FOOTBALL THEN FAILING

I was tailgating two weekends ago outside the stadium of my favorite college football team. I spent the morning playing ‘bags’ and eating hamburgers and drinking beer and carefully interacting with the infants belonging to friends from college. Child-bearing seems to be the current fad for my group of friends … everyone is either pregnant or has recently completed propagation. Okay. Not everyone. Probably more like three or four of them, but one of them had a set of twins and that practically doubles the overall infant population.

I liked having the kids there. It’s refreshing to see the impact they have on the people with whom you spent four years trying to one up each other by doing the first stupid thing that came to mind. It’s good to see that your friends have blossomed into stable, socially conscious people.

The tailgate was uneventful in a fun way. You could feel the underpinnings of fall weather in the breeze and you could see it in the filtered sunlight. I was in a good mood because fall always fills me with anticipation for new things. Makes me feel as if every yearned for achievement is within reach. Fall is my January 1st.

I still operate under the student mentality. Come fall, it’s time to start something new. Kindergarten, first grade, freshman year of college, study abroad in Rome, first real job out of college, exercise, photography. Fall marks the beginning of each new phase of my life.

I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite season. Pretty much every time a new season rolls around I get excited, but for different reasons. I spend summers running around trying to squeeze in as much fun as possible and not getting enough sleep. Winter is a time for seeing movies, watching TV, going to holiday parties and eating heavy cheesy squash-laden foods. And red wine. Lots of red wine.

The only season I don’t particularly like is spring. I think spring is obnoxious. The weather’s always all over the place and it rains too much and, for Christ’s sake, just once you’d like to go outside without wearing a freaking coat. And everyone is tired of each other because we’re all stuck indoors together. Yeah. Spring sucks.

So back to the tailgate where I spent the morning surrounded by the youngish faces of my college buddies and the cherubic faces of their offspring. Where I spent the morning anticipating the first home game of the season. Anticipating a win for my team that’s actually ranked high in the polls for the first time in a long time. That Saturday, my team won and it was a great start to fall.

Exactly one week later, I was still confidently clinging to my elated spirits until … that afternoon when my team lost spectacularly. I’d stayed in Chicago to watch the game. I was sitting on a bar stool drinking cheap beer (Coors Light) and watching my spectator hopes for vicarious glory crumble. I didn’t feel much like celebrating, so I went home right afterwards. When I arrived, my new neighbors were sitting out on their back deck drinking and grilling out. They were all wearing red Iowa t-shirts and talking noisily.

“Hey,” I said as I made my way towards the front door.

“Come have a beer,” Bill responded bossily.

I stopped and chewed indecisively on my lower lip.

“Nah … I think I’m gonna just watch a little TV and then go to bed.”

“Have one beer. It’ll make you feel better.”

I shrugged, walked up the stairs in a dispirited manner, and Bill stood to give me his seat. I had a beer. Then I had three more.

“Whatcha got in the bag?” Scott asked pointing to the plastic bag I’d been carrying around all day.

“New shirt,” I responded.

I pulled it out to show it to them. As I removed it from the bag, my cell phone and driver’s license fell out onto the table.

“Um,” Bill said, “have you been using that grocery bag as a purse?”

“No,” I responded defensively, “I was carrying my cell phone and driver’s license in my pockets, but I took them out while I was watching the game.”

“How come?”

“They were digging into my waist when I sat down.”

Bill laughed.

“My skirt’s a little tight right now, okay,” I said glaring irritably at him as I adjusted the hem of my denim skirt in a prim manner.

“What’re you using to hold your driver’s license and credit cards together?”

“Nothing. It’s just the rubber band from some broccoli I had the other day.”

Bill started laughing again.

“Shut up,” I said, but I was smiling now too.

“You have flip-flop tanlines on your feet,” Paul pointed out.

I glanced down and saw that he was right. I had two distinctive strap-lines curving over my feet. It looked kind of cool.

“Huh,” I responded, “it must be from tailgating last weekend.”

Several beers later, I readied to leave. When it was time to go, I stood up and declared with feigned anger, “I’m taking my purse and I’m going.”

Then I pointed at Bill and said, “I’ll see you in hell.”

As I walked away I jammed my arm through the plastic bag’s tiny handles and forced it all the way up my forearm onto my shoulder. So my football season is set to be a disappointment (unless God intervenes), but I have a feeling my new neighbors are going to be a nice addition to my life.


On a side note, I just got an electronic invite for a meeting tomorrow. The subject line reads as follows: 10:30 AM Pandemic Test. Best meeting title ever.

-to losE at a gamE sucKs