I had to think long and hard about whether to post this or not, but anyone who knows me, knows that I normally say what I think (to my great misfortune most of the time.)
I was recently at a PTO meeting at my son's Middle School and we were in the process of picking out types of shirts to sell for the upcoming Homecoming as a fundraiser. I held up one particular shirt (gray - that same horrible gray we all had to wear in the 70's for gym) and I said "I think boys would probably really buy this one". (We were going to have them screen-printed with the school emblem on front.)
Melissa side-note: At this point, does anyone have a problem with anything I have said during this meeting? I was raised in a conservative home in Chattanooga, Tennessee, went to a conservative elementary and middle school, a liberal private high school, attended a liberal public university and basically have one of the most very diverse educations of any person I know. I don't consider myself judgmental (I make a point not to be because I love the Lord), but I also know right from wrong and have common sense - thank you Momma and Daddy!
At this point, a woman in the meeting spoke up and said "Please don't say boy or girl, Please..........Let's not do that." (emphasis here on "Let's not do that" - hushed tone.)
Needless to say, my jaw dropped to the floor (figuratively, not literally - I AM a Southern Girl you know). I wanted to say "EXCUSE ME?", but in my nice Southern-raised, always scared of getting spanked during Church, God-fearing, Lynrd Skynrd listening, John Lennon lyric-loving, cannot-believe you just said that (but I'm not going to act like I am shocked because I am Southern) voice said "I'm sorry, I mean children, or, um... I mean students".
WHAT IN THE WORLD? Did God not create humans, male and female created He them? Honestly, I actually adapted to polital correctness during the 90's and never even realized it or basically didn't even care I guess, but my goodness, now I can't even call a child a boy or a girl anymore! I can't even recognize the fact that they basically like different things? God help us!
Okay, it is late, I am tired and obviously I am ranting. I never thought I would see the day this was happening and I was starting to sound like my parents. Next thing you know, I will think everything is a McCarthy conspiracy!
Melissa
Friday, September 7, 2007
IT'S FOOTBALL TIME IN TENNESSEE!
Sent from one of my best friends in Nashville (who I have eaten with at Rotier's and unashamedly drank a beer with at 9:00 in the morning in honor of the team, something I shouldn't be proud of, but strangely am), this article actually made me smell the air of Knoxville and the crowd singing Rocky Top. I almost teared up...........you have to be a Vol to understand.
Bruce Newman for ESPN.com
The passion for Southern football begins at an early age. In Knoxville, when football season seems like it might never arrive, they can laugh about the fans who've almost sunk a boat in the Tennessee River. They can sing "Rocky Top." In Arkansas, they can let a "Pig Sooie" fly, like a maintenance drink for a boozehound. A few states over, a War Eagle or Rammer Jammer can keep a man (or woman) from going insane. That's a struggle we've been having for generations.
Why? Well, there are a thousand theories, many having to do with a lack of any other entertainment, but the one in Tony Barnhart's book about the obsession makes as much sense as any: Dominating at football offers a chance for Southerners to feel equal, a chance to avenge past defeats on the battlefield, which is admittedly bizarre, since no one else in the country ever thinks about the Civil War. In the book, former Georgia coach Vince Dooley describes beating Michigan in Ann Arbor in 1965. "I didn't just hear from Georgia people," he says, "but from people all over the South. To go up there and invade the North and come back a winner was the greatest thing for a lot of people. It was as if we had had a chance to go to Gettysburg again."
So these memories are important, a part of our martial DNA, though some memories are a bit hazier than others. My cousin ran out between the hedges in 2000 after Georgia beat Tennessee for the first time in nine years. He tore off his white dress shirt, ran right over to two players sitting on the Volunteers' bench and screamed, "Go back to Knoxville!" (The family's very proud.)
Here's another one I just heard: Two ol' boys were in Baton Rouge, all decked out in LSU gear, tailgating all day. Then, after hours of drinking peacefully next to each other, one guy suddenly jumped the other, quickly getting the upper hand, punching and kicking like a madman. Then he pulled out a knife, apparently to finish the job. Before they were pulled apart, the aggressor screamed at his defeated foe, "I can't believe you named your little girl Auburn!"
Every Southern football fan has a story like that, just like every group has a set of shared experiences. I've never rolled Toomer's Corner after a big War Eagle win, but the people who have will never forget it. New York Times sports columnist Selena Roberts sure won't. Today, she's one of the most respected voices in the world of sports. But when she thinks back to her days as a student at Auburn, she can still see the ribbons of white hanging from the trees. She remembers stealing toilet paper from buildings and walking through the knee-deep sea of tissue. "It looks as close as a white Christmas as you can get in the South," she says.
Each school has its legends. There's the time a potential game-winning field goal was blown back by a sudden gust of wind, costing Mississippi State a victory over Ole Miss in the Egg Bowl, removing any doubt which team God himself pulls for (though Alabama fans might argue by quoting Ezekiel 20:29 ... look it up). There's Billy Cannon's punt return which, almost 50 years after he ran into the Louisiana fog, is still played on the radio in Baton Rouge. There's Spurrier reminding us all that you can't spell Citrus without "U" and "T". There's Buck Belue to Lindsay Scott, and if you need an explanation, you've probably never eaten barbecue cooked at a gas station.
These are the stories told in January deer camps and in spring break condos and over graduation weekend grilled cheeseburgers at Rotiers in Nashville. They keep the dream of football alive until winter and spring give way to summer.
Bruce Newman for ESPN.com
The passion for Southern football begins at an early age. In Knoxville, when football season seems like it might never arrive, they can laugh about the fans who've almost sunk a boat in the Tennessee River. They can sing "Rocky Top." In Arkansas, they can let a "Pig Sooie" fly, like a maintenance drink for a boozehound. A few states over, a War Eagle or Rammer Jammer can keep a man (or woman) from going insane. That's a struggle we've been having for generations.
Why? Well, there are a thousand theories, many having to do with a lack of any other entertainment, but the one in Tony Barnhart's book about the obsession makes as much sense as any: Dominating at football offers a chance for Southerners to feel equal, a chance to avenge past defeats on the battlefield, which is admittedly bizarre, since no one else in the country ever thinks about the Civil War. In the book, former Georgia coach Vince Dooley describes beating Michigan in Ann Arbor in 1965. "I didn't just hear from Georgia people," he says, "but from people all over the South. To go up there and invade the North and come back a winner was the greatest thing for a lot of people. It was as if we had had a chance to go to Gettysburg again."
So these memories are important, a part of our martial DNA, though some memories are a bit hazier than others. My cousin ran out between the hedges in 2000 after Georgia beat Tennessee for the first time in nine years. He tore off his white dress shirt, ran right over to two players sitting on the Volunteers' bench and screamed, "Go back to Knoxville!" (The family's very proud.)
Here's another one I just heard: Two ol' boys were in Baton Rouge, all decked out in LSU gear, tailgating all day. Then, after hours of drinking peacefully next to each other, one guy suddenly jumped the other, quickly getting the upper hand, punching and kicking like a madman. Then he pulled out a knife, apparently to finish the job. Before they were pulled apart, the aggressor screamed at his defeated foe, "I can't believe you named your little girl Auburn!"
Every Southern football fan has a story like that, just like every group has a set of shared experiences. I've never rolled Toomer's Corner after a big War Eagle win, but the people who have will never forget it. New York Times sports columnist Selena Roberts sure won't. Today, she's one of the most respected voices in the world of sports. But when she thinks back to her days as a student at Auburn, she can still see the ribbons of white hanging from the trees. She remembers stealing toilet paper from buildings and walking through the knee-deep sea of tissue. "It looks as close as a white Christmas as you can get in the South," she says.
Each school has its legends. There's the time a potential game-winning field goal was blown back by a sudden gust of wind, costing Mississippi State a victory over Ole Miss in the Egg Bowl, removing any doubt which team God himself pulls for (though Alabama fans might argue by quoting Ezekiel 20:29 ... look it up). There's Billy Cannon's punt return which, almost 50 years after he ran into the Louisiana fog, is still played on the radio in Baton Rouge. There's Spurrier reminding us all that you can't spell Citrus without "U" and "T". There's Buck Belue to Lindsay Scott, and if you need an explanation, you've probably never eaten barbecue cooked at a gas station.
These are the stories told in January deer camps and in spring break condos and over graduation weekend grilled cheeseburgers at Rotiers in Nashville. They keep the dream of football alive until winter and spring give way to summer.
Thankful........
Whew - what a week, but I made it through and Chris is off on his Walk to Emmaus.
Update - as of this morning, they are trying to completely wean my brother off of any need for mechanized air (he is off of a ventilator, but on a CPAP machine (wall air)). We are in the process of placement into a skilled nursing unit probably within the next week or so. I am just amazed at the turn-around he has made, but also know that the long-term outcome is not very favorable. I ask that you still keep him in your prayers as he comes to your mind.
Wishing everyone a great weekend and GO VOLS!!!!!!!
Melissa
Update - as of this morning, they are trying to completely wean my brother off of any need for mechanized air (he is off of a ventilator, but on a CPAP machine (wall air)). We are in the process of placement into a skilled nursing unit probably within the next week or so. I am just amazed at the turn-around he has made, but also know that the long-term outcome is not very favorable. I ask that you still keep him in your prayers as he comes to your mind.
Wishing everyone a great weekend and GO VOLS!!!!!!!
Melissa
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