Saturday, November 10, 2007

One of the fine subtleties that I enjoy at about this time of year here in the eastern United States, is in the way that sunshine, when unobstructed, gleams from its low perch in the sky on a clear sunny day between the hours of 2:00 p.m. and 3:30 p.m. If you're fortunate enough to have that on an unusually mild day for the next month or during the winter at all, dining al-fresco, without the vulgar sound of traffic close by, can truly be a grand experience.

The experience can especially be dreamlike if you do so with people that you like or want to get acquainted with. For me, food seems tastier, drink is more gratifying, and conversation appears to sound clearer, more interesting and very crisp. Add to that: an envelope of bright turning trees rustling in a very delicate breeze, skilled transparent table service, the faint ephemeral aroma of burning birch wood and some good music.

Three weeks ago today, I was close to that above nirvanic state. In what has become an annual pilgrimage in recent years, I went away to attend a University of Arizona football game. My partner in crime, Julio, was again involved. This year, I included my eight-year-old boy. Yep. Pulled him out of school for two days and we flew out to Tucson to watch Arizona take on Stanford on a beautiful Sonoran Desert Saturday fall afternoon.

Hanging with Julio is a story all by itself. The fact that we almost got arrested but talked our way out of it in front of two police officers this time around, is not the purpose of this post. The purpose of this post is not about the "good times" that I have when I get together with him or how I seem to thread the needle when I'm around that guy. The purpose of this post is about the good time that I can have or find just by being self aware of some of the little things.

Wifey almost feels that because of the implied and impending debauchery of which I may become part of, that I may not be able to take care of The Savage properly. She feels that way even though both my in-laws and brother-in-law live in Tucson.

Wifey dropped The Savage and me off at the departures curb early on a Thursday morning and one of the last things she says to The Savage is, "You know how to dial home, right?". The last thing Wifey says to me after the goodbye kiss is, "Keep your eye on him and take care of him!"

I laughed.

Two days later on game day, we head off to the university's campus to link-up with some friends who tailgate before the game. I haven't seen these folks in a couple of years. Lots of high fives, hugs, kisses, smiles and the comforting song of some women speaking with that Hispanic southern Arizona accent. I can't very well describe it, but I know it when I hear it. I'm assured that I'm not in New York or New Jersey when I hear the delicate delicacy of that inflection.

Soon after we arrive at the tailgate, my Savage hits it off with some other Savages that are about his age. Three beautiful little girls and a handsome little boy. I notice that they think he's some sort of Martian, a kindly and interesting one from New Jersey. I overhear them all talking about their teachers and about what they are touching upon in school. I feel he's off on his way to a good time as I am.

Some minutes later, I notice that the tailgate and its environs start to slowly get crowded. So I tap on the resources that are there. I went around and kindly asked the other children's moms and dads, and a couple of others to help me keep track of my Savage because he has a very independent gene in him. I’m a little insecure since I’m not his primary caregiver.

No problem, Jerry.

I went and got lost in conversation with friends, acquaintances and strangers while I made love to a keg of some absolutely delicious Hefeweizen. I didn't even get around to tasting any of the delicious looking food in lieu of the drink.

Periodically, I'd glance around to see where The Savage is and what he's doing. Some more minutes pass by and I'd do the same thing. Then, some time later I looked over to where I saw him sitting last and he's not there. The only thing that I saw where he should have been, were his shoes and his socks!

I did a 180 and I did not see him. I then hollered his name as a flashback of me getting dropped off at the airport's curb flashed across my brain.

From the other end of the long tent, Clarisse, the very gracious hosting mom, hails my name. "Jerry! He's over here!", she said. I walked over to her and then she pointed to a couple of tailgates away. There he was. The Savage was organizing a limbo dance with about ten other kids from surrounding tailgates. He and another little girl were holding the stick. I could make out the calypso music. We both started laughing. It was a sight to behold. I will never forget that particular vision.

All the Savages returned back to our tent area some minutes later. I got my Savage’s attention and reiterated to him that he HAS to let me know if he’s venturing away. I told him that we’re a team and we have to stick together or at least know where we’re going every time. I need to know where he is all the time. It was not a scold, but a reaffirmation to him.

But I was curious and I had to ask him a question.

"Dude! Why did you take your shoes and socks off?"

He answered, "Dad, it just felt soooo gooood".

Mmmmm….perfect weather, good company, excellent drink, great food and an upcoming football game by the team I am most passionate for.

Yeah Dude, I know exactly what you’re talking about, I thought. I'm there.

I felt "soooo gooood" also.

*!*

2 Comments:

At 7:56 PM EST, Blogger Summer said...

Hi Jerry! Thanks for stopping by today and leaving a comment. Class rings... a lot of memories for sure. I like what I've read here.

 
At 12:30 AM EST, Blogger JerryNJ said...

Wow, a visitor! And one who left a comment!

Should I air out the joint and make coffee?

Thanks for the kind word.

*!*

 

Post a Comment

<< Home