Let's Kneel Before the Altar and Give Thanks...

http://www.chatsports.com/

They smugly say football is a religion in the South. I firmly and steadfastly believe it. Especially when it comes to my father, brother-in-law, and my brother. A lost game can mean surliness, ill tempers, and depression for a week. If they win, then the champagne is uncorked and flows freely.

If I had a choice, I would rather go sit on one of those hard aluminum stadium seats watching men in tights toss a ball around instead of sitting in a stuffy old church somewhere on a dusty pew.

Tonight is the first game of the season for the Auburn Tigers and there is an electric tingling in the air here in the Southland and the plains of Alabama.

Malfunction Junction...

Well, I was driving over to get my sodas when I passed dad coming the other direction from my house. I looked into my rear view mirror to see him turning around. My father had tried to administer my medications before driving to Auburn and the game. He won't be back home until after midnight tonight. I was gone and nowhere to be found. My father couldn't get my mother to answer the phone either.

"I got deeply and seriously worried about you," my father said looking relieved as I let him inside the front door. "You are always at home -- you and the Mags."

He gave me a big heartfelt bear hug and then we took my many medications.

"Welcome to the hermitage," I told my father with a laugh after the first gulp of medications were down the gullet. "Even hermits have to have a cola or two sometimes."

My father also had a sack with another McDonald's double quarter pounder with cheese inside. My favorite beau as far as hamburgers are concerned lately.

"Go get you some sunscreen at CVS," I told my father like a doting mother. "You are fair skinned like me and will be crispy and well done a few hours after tailgating without it."