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Well, I'm back!
When I got to the gate at LAX for the flight headed to Dallas, I saw old men in cowboy hats and wives with curly blonde hair and knew I'd found it. When I got on the plane in Dallas going to Omaha, the couple next to me said, "I haven't had the chance to talk to anybody about what happened yesterday!" and I said, "Oh yeah, Callahan being fired?" and they said, "Oh, really, just like that! What was the score?" and I said, "65-51," and they said, "Did we lose?" and I half-laughed and said, "Oh yeah, we lost," and nobody had even mentioned either "football" or "Huskers", because it was obvious, and I knew I was going the right way.
And now I'm home, sitting on the leather couch next to my mom, who is sleeping, and my cat, who is also sleeping, after our breakfast of coffee, home-baked muffins, over easy eggs, and cranberry-pomegranate juice, watching the Paris Grand Prix figureskating and NFL football (Kansas City versus Oakland, Minnesota versus New York Giants). I was happy to see Eli Manning get intercepted for a touchdown twice in a row. The Russians are, of course, dramatic and glorious ice dancers that should have won but didn't. My mother has declared it a day for doing nothing. The internet is fast again. Our little house is cluttered with knick-knacks and details. We have pumpkin pie in the fridge and other left-overs. The front courtyard is a sea of leaves, and the neighbors have a new puppy. Last night on the local news they spotlighted a man in Huskerwear who held up motivational signs on street corners supporting Osborne's decision to fire Callahan (as does most of the state), shouting, in the dark to passing cars after the end of this terrible losing season, "We're back!" Life, in other words, is good.
(sorry for the sappiness-nice-things-obsession: it will be the only post of this kind)
When I got to the gate at LAX for the flight headed to Dallas, I saw old men in cowboy hats and wives with curly blonde hair and knew I'd found it. When I got on the plane in Dallas going to Omaha, the couple next to me said, "I haven't had the chance to talk to anybody about what happened yesterday!" and I said, "Oh yeah, Callahan being fired?" and they said, "Oh, really, just like that! What was the score?" and I said, "65-51," and they said, "Did we lose?" and I half-laughed and said, "Oh yeah, we lost," and nobody had even mentioned either "football" or "Huskers", because it was obvious, and I knew I was going the right way.
And now I'm home, sitting on the leather couch next to my mom, who is sleeping, and my cat, who is also sleeping, after our breakfast of coffee, home-baked muffins, over easy eggs, and cranberry-pomegranate juice, watching the Paris Grand Prix figureskating and NFL football (Kansas City versus Oakland, Minnesota versus New York Giants). I was happy to see Eli Manning get intercepted for a touchdown twice in a row. The Russians are, of course, dramatic and glorious ice dancers that should have won but didn't. My mother has declared it a day for doing nothing. The internet is fast again. Our little house is cluttered with knick-knacks and details. We have pumpkin pie in the fridge and other left-overs. The front courtyard is a sea of leaves, and the neighbors have a new puppy. Last night on the local news they spotlighted a man in Huskerwear who held up motivational signs on street corners supporting Osborne's decision to fire Callahan (as does most of the state), shouting, in the dark to passing cars after the end of this terrible losing season, "We're back!" Life, in other words, is good.
(sorry for the sappiness-nice-things-obsession: it will be the only post of this kind)
