25Oct08 The Weather, The Game, The Tailgater
Not nearly as cold in a Class a motorhome as in a K for Kabin! This RV living is pretty soft, I must say! Lou and I got up around 0800 and he fixed coffee and raisin bran, and then we headed into town for another cuppa at Starbucks (he's an admitted addict) and to watch the city dock activities. The weather is predicted to be rainy, but looks like there are some nice breaks - we'll just have to see as it goes.
While we were sitting at the window bar in Sbucks, it was like a scene from Mary Poppins outside - at first the pedestrians and tourists were just strolling about, under a cloudy but blue pocked sky - then suddenly the flags swung around as the wind shifted direction and freshed, and the rain begain to fall, and then to pour, and the aforementioned peoples began to run after errant umbrellas and lost warmpth. My coffee was just fine, thank you very much!
Finalyl things broke and we headed in to the Midshipman Store. Once a year non-military personnel are permitted into this low cost, government subsidized campus store where everythng from fine jewelery to toiletries to souveniers to clothing is available at sometimes remarkable prices. There was nothing I needed, and, gratefully, little I wanted, so I got nothing but the pleasure of noting how much the place had changed in 30 years. For example, we were the last class to be issued slide-rules, and the first to get TI calculators. Now there are laptops available and desktops issued. We also thought a Nikon 35mm camera was top of the line, now the digital.... oh, you get the idea.
In short order it was show time for the tailgate party, and we were still dodging rain showers. Finding parking was easier than I'd expected, due, no doubt, to the bursts of rain and the busses bringing in what spectaters there were directly to the stadium. While there were some tailgate parties gutting it out under tents in the lot, ours was a huge catered affair of 900 (I'm told, I lost count at 20, no, 21, dammit, I have to start again) in the main pavilion area. From 1 to 9pm we were under orders to eat as much of whatever we wanted and drink as much of whatever we wanted as we, ah, wanted; all the while ciculating like toilet water around the room looking for long lost classmates. Ok, maybe toilet water isn't the best analogy - but you know what I mean.
Here was the interesting part: milling through the cowd you might see a face that was vaguely familiar, then catch an eye and still not be sure, so you touch a shoulder or elbow and extend a hand. As smiles, names and that look of recognition are exchanged a special effect worthy of a Hollywood Oscar occured and 30 years of age ran off the two faces in an instant. Wrinkles and fat disappeared and hairlines reappeared. "You look exactly the same!" was no longer a boldfaced lie but a heartfelt true statement.
While some companies of alumni had claimed tables and chairs, my group was centered around a stand-up table for 8 full hours as first lunch, then dinner, was rolled out and served. The bars never closed or slowed, nor did conversation. While the rain and wind raged outside (and SMU got their butts handed to them) we ate and drank and recounted for the hundredth time how mistreated we were by our firsty's (Senior Class) and how we abused the Plebe's (freshmen).
It was also noted that we had the last REAL Plebe summer, a statement ripe for argument from the sons of our class suffering in 2008.
Finally it was time to go. The food tables were gone, and the bar tenders sitting against the wall in a state of shock. Still, we lingered here. There is something magical about the sense of belonging to this group that none of us wanted to leave. Was it the of 4 years of school? Was it the military service with its sacrifices and common experiences? Was it that this group of people has known each other for over 30 years and STILL came the distance to raise a glass in honor of each other? Whatever it was, we left with mixed emotions and a promise to meet again.
While we were sitting at the window bar in Sbucks, it was like a scene from Mary Poppins outside - at first the pedestrians and tourists were just strolling about, under a cloudy but blue pocked sky - then suddenly the flags swung around as the wind shifted direction and freshed, and the rain begain to fall, and then to pour, and the aforementioned peoples began to run after errant umbrellas and lost warmpth. My coffee was just fine, thank you very much!
Finalyl things broke and we headed in to the Midshipman Store. Once a year non-military personnel are permitted into this low cost, government subsidized campus store where everythng from fine jewelery to toiletries to souveniers to clothing is available at sometimes remarkable prices. There was nothing I needed, and, gratefully, little I wanted, so I got nothing but the pleasure of noting how much the place had changed in 30 years. For example, we were the last class to be issued slide-rules, and the first to get TI calculators. Now there are laptops available and desktops issued. We also thought a Nikon 35mm camera was top of the line, now the digital.... oh, you get the idea.
In short order it was show time for the tailgate party, and we were still dodging rain showers. Finding parking was easier than I'd expected, due, no doubt, to the bursts of rain and the busses bringing in what spectaters there were directly to the stadium. While there were some tailgate parties gutting it out under tents in the lot, ours was a huge catered affair of 900 (I'm told, I lost count at 20, no, 21, dammit, I have to start again) in the main pavilion area. From 1 to 9pm we were under orders to eat as much of whatever we wanted and drink as much of whatever we wanted as we, ah, wanted; all the while ciculating like toilet water around the room looking for long lost classmates. Ok, maybe toilet water isn't the best analogy - but you know what I mean.
Here was the interesting part: milling through the cowd you might see a face that was vaguely familiar, then catch an eye and still not be sure, so you touch a shoulder or elbow and extend a hand. As smiles, names and that look of recognition are exchanged a special effect worthy of a Hollywood Oscar occured and 30 years of age ran off the two faces in an instant. Wrinkles and fat disappeared and hairlines reappeared. "You look exactly the same!" was no longer a boldfaced lie but a heartfelt true statement.
While some companies of alumni had claimed tables and chairs, my group was centered around a stand-up table for 8 full hours as first lunch, then dinner, was rolled out and served. The bars never closed or slowed, nor did conversation. While the rain and wind raged outside (and SMU got their butts handed to them) we ate and drank and recounted for the hundredth time how mistreated we were by our firsty's (Senior Class) and how we abused the Plebe's (freshmen).
It was also noted that we had the last REAL Plebe summer, a statement ripe for argument from the sons of our class suffering in 2008.
Finally it was time to go. The food tables were gone, and the bar tenders sitting against the wall in a state of shock. Still, we lingered here. There is something magical about the sense of belonging to this group that none of us wanted to leave. Was it the of 4 years of school? Was it the military service with its sacrifices and common experiences? Was it that this group of people has known each other for over 30 years and STILL came the distance to raise a glass in honor of each other? Whatever it was, we left with mixed emotions and a promise to meet again.
posted by Randy Masters at 5:31 PM
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