The touch, the feel of Otis
Open your door and breath in the tailgate weather. It’s the smell of early-morning beer-drinking, brats on the grill, the pigskin flying through dewy air. It’s the sound of a co-eds laugh, of a football cheer, of a keg tap being screwed to its home.
I stepped into that feel this morning. Upstate South Carolina summer is giving me a taste of the autumn to come. My soul stirred (I won’t mention what other parts of me perked up as well) with the smell of the air. It is the same smell of the mornings–too many years ago–I would drag myself to a parkling lot cul-de-sac, literally sit on a tailgate, and drink beer while staring at pretty girls. The football sucked, but the good times made up for it all. It is tailgate weather and few things make me more rowdy.
I’m feeling a bit sensually nostalgic this morning. By this time tomorrow I will be on a flight to St. Louis. I will see all my old friends and we will spend three days sending my brother into the world of married life. It is a three-day, two-night bachelor party, complete with a party bus. I’m expecting many, many people…most of whom are me and my sibling’s mututal friends.
Life in the last 24 hours has been simply good. I nailed a good investigatve story. I shot a 57 on the frolf course (a tie for my record game). I got broadband service at my house. And a very cute girl keeps calling me a biped (which I find interminably endearing).
There are many reasons to find fault with this suck-hole world. But there are many more reasons to appreciate the good, simple stuff.
You won’t hear from me for a few days. And that is a good thing.
My good mood might make you sick.