Month: December 2015

Four months into retirement and holding fast to a promise made to self that I won’t be a sofa slug.

I was sitting on my sofa last week when I was reminded that there was going to be a Christmas parade on Saturday night and it was only five minutes (or less) from my house.

This was to take place at a time when college football championships were underway on television.  It was cold outside.  There would be a fire in my fireplace and food and beverage within reach. A parade?

This was to be the second time that this event would take place in our small community.  I had heard from friends that the parade held the previous year was a rousing success and that this one promised to be bigger and better.  I missed last year’s parade.  I knew about it, but passed.  I can’t remember why. I was probably watching football. Did I want to make it 0 for 2?

The previous week, Helen and I had been in Charleston, SC enjoying Thanksgiving activities with our son, his wife, and our precious granddaughters. This was a lot of fun, but the Thanksgiving meal was also the culmination of a week in which we had helped them move into a new home. The move had generated a lot of anticipation and excitement among all of us and especially the girls who were getting a big new yard to play in. Nevertheless, back in the man cave, I was looking forward to some down time in the recliner watching football.

Around 3:00 on Saturday afternoon Helen says “What time are we leaving?” My initial response was an intense stare at the television, but I knew that I couldn’t hold that position for long. “No later than 5:30”  I replied. I was committed.  Another activity on the schedule of a retiree who promised to remain active.

We had been told that parking would be somewhat of a challenge, so we got in our car and drove to the local elementary school and walked about a quarter of a mile to the parade site.  It was a cool and crisp evening and it felt good to walk–I had also promised to exercise. There were several families who walked with us while leading their dogs on a leash.  The dogs were determined to prove who among them was the alpha male and created quite a stir. The big poodle won.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The parade was centered around the parking lot of a small to medium size shopping center with several adjacent shops and taverns going away from it to the west. When we arrived the parking lot was a beehive of activity. People were everywhere and I have to admit, I was somewhat astonished at the size of the crowd. The local tavern had cordoned off a portion of its parking lot and had set up a temporary bar there.  There were relatively few patrons and I found this a bit of a surprise as well.

From where we were located, the parade was to originate at the community ball fields about a mile away and follow a two lane road for about a half mile then turn left onto the main highway, also a two lane road, but a busy one. At exactly 6:00pm police blocked the highway and sirens rang out loudly from the local fire truck. Those sirens were matched in intensity by the squeals from young children lining both sides of the road and wiggling with excitement. From that moment on, this was a spectator’s delight. Everybody loves a parade!

The fire truck moved along at about two miles per hour with lights flashing. Then came a trio functioning as the obligatory Banner Bearers telling us what we were watching. They looked like they had done this before…big smiles all about.

 

 

 

The Parade Grand Marshall came through next sitting on the back of a big, black, Cadillac convertible. Serving in this position of prominence was a very popular anchor for one of the local television stations–an excellent choice I thought.  He waved enthusiastically to the crowd and paused the Cadillac right in front of me to chat with one of his fellow TV anchors standing just to my left. Wow! Imagine me, surrounded by celebrity.  Big fun!

Next came another celebrity that is familiar to many–a Kharmin Ghia convertible. I don’t think the car knows it’s famous, but it happens to be owned by the county mayor and gets a lot of publicity from appearances on TV and in the newspaper. The Kharmin Ghia blinked its lights at us as it passed by. The mayors daughter sipped from a cup of hot chocolate while waving.

After the celebrity review we were treated to Floats–the things that make a parade a parade. We were not disappointed as one by one they moved in front of us.  It was obvious that much time and expense had gone into many of them which I honestly wasn’t expecting. The floats represented local retail businesses, construction firms, automobile dealerships, and restaurants.  The local tavern, mentioned above, had a float that was well done.  The Tavern float was followed by two very nice floats from local churches.  All three got along very well.

The local elementary school was nicely represented by a principal and two teachers looking resplendent in their well-done elf suits. They were having a grand time. Maybe Santa sent them to watch the kids. 

 

 

In between the floats, trucks were pulling trailers filled with all kinds of cuteness.  There was one trailer filled with the local cub scout pack that was quickly followed by a trailer full of Brownie Scouts. The Brownies were a little more lively than the Cubs I thought. Girls just love doing “pageant waves” while parading. Guys aren’t into it so much.  

More floats came by, then it was time for the animals led by the tiniest of dogs dressed in full elf costume, and hanging out the window of a big pickup truck.

 

 

Tiny elf dog was the prelude for a Poodle Parade consisting of several white, standard poodles who spent more time licking children’s faces than parading down the road.  This was a real joy for the children.  Among the poodles was the alpha male I spotted earlier, but he was on his best behavior–and a very short leash.

 

 

Bringing up the rear of the animal contingent were three beautiful chestnut mares ridden by three older cowboys who were truly in their element. These guys saluted, waved their cowboy hats at the crowd and guided their mounts gently over to the crowd for some “nose rubs”. The horses weren’t diapered and I kept waiting for a middle of the road “accident”, but it never happened. Those horses may have been on a slim diet for the day.

Finally, the crowd was kept waiting no longer. It was time for the Main Event…Santa Claus was comin’ to town. Parents hoisted kids on their shoulders and us old folks stepped back a bit to give them some access to the big guy.  Mommies told their kids that this was their one big chance to show Santa how good they are. “Be on your best behavior kids…don’t blow this!”

Santa brought Mrs. Claus to town for this event and they were sharing the spotlight like a pair of rock stars. Their float was low to the ground for better viewing by the children and decorated with a lot of lights that formed big wreaths. Santa was a big hit. He held the crowd in place until the end of the parade route which was in the church parking lot about a quarter mile away.

Thinking that the parade was complete, I began to look for a way through the large crowd, when Santa came whizzing by me in a white golf cart.  It seemed that Santa wasn’t through for the night.  He was dropped off on the lawn beside a restaurant where a huge fir tree had been decorated for the season.  Santa had the job of lighting the tree, but we had to wait for the cart bearing Mrs. Claus, who was being fashionably late. A choir stand had been erected beside the tree, and a group of carolers were singing into microphones for the crowd. Nice touch!

Sooner rather than later, Mrs. Claus made her way to the tree and joined the big fella’. On cue, Santa lifted a long wand outfitted with Christmas lights and, with dramatic upswing of the wand, the tree was filled with an outstanding display of white lights. What a show! The crowd, which seemed even larger now, lingered long listening to carols…A grand time was had by all.

Conclusion: Retirement is a reward for being in a hurry all of our adulthood. The aspect of retirement that I love most is that we have so many great choices  before us. The choice for this night was football in front of a fire, or watchin’ a fabulous Christmas Parade float by in front of me. Well, as it turned out, the parade finished in time to catch the second half. So, without hurry, there was still time to do both. After all, I’m just Easin’ Along…

 

 

 

 

 

Joining the ranks of the recently retired may seem like a simple concept to some.  With all of that newly found freedom, you just get up when you want and go do whatever you want, right? For the first few weeks, doing “whatever you want” could mean “doing nothing”. I tried that for about one week and realized that staying happy, active, and connected in retirement requires a plan.  Now that a lifetime of being driven by whatever was required for work and career is no longer a factor, some of that energy and creativity that was necessary for my livelihood needs to be brought to bear on “what’s next” or else my days will be spent in contact only with spouse, the TV, and maybe the mailman. I’m still working out the plan but realizing that I needed one is a great first step.  Fortunately, we’re able to travel, and that will be a large part of the plan for a while, but what fills the gap between trips is still a question that has not yet been fully answered.  We’ll explore the options in the weeks to come, so stay with us as we Ease Along.

There is one activity, however, that I didn’t have to add to the plan just to fill a void created by retirement. Sports, including football, have always been part of the plan. I’ve consistently held on to the belief that following sports is the one human endeavor whereby a person can devote complete and total passion with no consequence, and following University of Tennessee football is something about which I am unapologetically passionate. I have been a devoted Tennessee Volunteer fan for as long as I can remember, beginning around age 6 when a gifted athlete named Johnny Majors was dashing out of my Dad’s radio and running wild through our small living room.  I attended my first game at Shields-Watkins Field at around age 8.  It was cold, but I didn’t care.  Tennessee beat North Carolina 30 – 0 and I was happy. In my high school years, I sold programs in order to get into the games. In my college days, I would stay up nights to be the first in line to get student tickets the next morning. I served meals in Gibbs Hall (athletic dormitory) just to be closer to the program.

I’m not one of those with my hair dyed Orange and White, but I have stickers on my cars, souvenir mugs in my cabinets, and past schedules on my garage walls. With only one exception, every cat that has ever lived in my household has been orange and white. Thankfully, this is one activity that was part of the plan long before the plan was simply something to do later. Nevertheless, while the activity hasn’t changed, the act of watching it has changed a lot since I was introduced to it.  Ease Along with me here…

After I was released from active duty with the Army in 1976 and returned home to Knoxville, I was reading the local paper and came upon an advertisement announcing the opening of a section of seats in the newly constructed upper deck of Neyland Stadium.  The ad was seeking applicants for season tickets in new seats added to the south end zone.  The total price for the tickets also included a $25 fee for each season ticket requested. I don’t remember the price of the tickets, but I also have no clue where the money came from ‘cuz I didn’t have any.  Nevertheless, I filled out the form that accompanied the ad, cobbled together the money I got from somewhere and sent it in along with a note from me asking for seats as low in the upper deck as possible.

After a few months, I received my new tickets in the mail.  I went Big Orange Crazy with excitement when I saw that we had been issued tickets for Section JJ, Row 1, seats 7 and 8.  To say I was elated is a gross understatement. This is my 39th year in those seats.

The first season in those seats was not the best in terms of football.  The team went 6-5 and it was the last season for Coach Battle, a good man. Nevertheless, we had one helluva good time in Section JJ in spite of the record.  First and foremost, the seats were awesome.  We were sitting in the first row of the upper deck. There are two rows of box seats in front of us, but the aisle for those two rows are directly in front of seats 7 and 8 so we have an obstructed view of the playing field.

 

 

Second, but equally important, the people sitting around us in that first year, and for several seasons thereafter, were just a large amount of fun. Except for my lifelong friend, Rob, who sat two rows behind us, I knew every other fan only by their first name or by a nickname we made up.  Immediately behind us sat four miners from somewhere in Middle Tennessee. We gave them the nickname “Benny and the Miners”.  There were Benny and his nameless brother, plus another nameless guy who was raucous and rowdy, and “Dawg”, who always came well lubricated. These guys were true fans who loved their team as much as anybody and celebrated every positive play with another shot from the flask.  During one victory over Alabama, Helen got a Jack and Coke shower with every pass completion. After a few seasons, Dawg got married and his new bride took the seat of one of the nameless guys, and Benny and the Miners calmed down a bit. I hated that, but I didn’t have to carry a poncho for Helen anymore. I haven’t seen them in years.

About four seats to our left sat a fellow everybody called “Red” due to the color of his hair.  The nickname turned out to be prophetic because after every incompletion, fumble, or officiating call, not in our favor, Red would go into a rant until the color of his face matched the color of his hair. We love Red for his passion and his loyalty.

Behind Red sat a guy I named “Socks”. Socks, a big guy who arrived early for every game, always wore Bermuda cargo shorts regardless of the temperature. Those shorts were held up by a multi-colored pair of suspenders with numerous pins and buttons attached to them.  My favorite was a button that read “Kiss Me, I’m Stupid!”. Socks was so named because of a pair of white knee socks with vertical Orange letters spelling out Tennessee from his knees to his ankles. He wore them to every game. You can’t have enough fans like Socks.

Over the years there have been many others who came and went or, came and stayed. There were Tina and Terry from Nashville.  Terry knew a lot about football and I consulted him often about strategy.  Tina hated Gators with a ferocity unequaled by anyone. They moved on. There was also a guy who had one of the box seats to our front (nickname “Slapper”)who stood up the entire game, and high fived everyone in sight when Tennessee scored. He moved on as well, but I was in Los Angeles for a game with UCLA a few years ago and, seated about five rows in front of me was none other than Slapper.  He now was fist bumping instead of giving the high five, so I changed his name to “Bumper”.

In addition to the ebb and flow of the great fans surrounding us over the years, Neyland Stadium has undergone a transition as well.

The first big change was the addition of Skyboxes where small groups of fans with lots of money can sit in comfy, air conditioned seats behind a glass window and watch the game on TV screens. I have seen only one game from a Skybox and found it a little stifling. I had rather be with Benny and the Miners.

Next came the Jumbotron, a gigantic TV screen that features replays and various shots from around the stadium.  I like the Jumbotron even though I have to turn around to see it from where we sit.  That’s probably a good thing, otherwise, I might watch it all of the time rather than the action on the field.

 

The stadium got a facelift to include a brick front.  It looks great, but the old one looked fine. Inside one of the gates, a giant size statue of General Neyland was built in recognition of the contribution he made to the tradition that is Tennessee football. General Neyland might not have approved, he was a modest no-nonsense guy, but I’m glad they did it.

 

There have been many other changes in 39 years.  The food is better (but more expensive). The Athletic Department added Club seats and the Terrace for fans who also have a lot of money but preferred to stay outside.  They have great food in their section and TV’s to watch while they eat.

There have been a couple of changes over the years that I don’t think have been good.

There once was a tradition that began in the 60’s of having a Tennessee Walking Horse prance around the field before every game.  I loved it.  The horse always held his head high and seemed so proud to be there. I thought it was a marvelous way to salute the State of Tennessee.  The regular appearance was discontinued sometime in the 80’s and now we get to see our Walking Horse at homecoming only.  I miss this tradition a lot.

There is one other situation that leaves me scratching my head.  With the advent of cell phones, I am amazed at how much time the fans around me spend staring at them. They are forever texting, snapping selfies, or reading emails, instead of cheering on the team.  I hate this.  The Pride of The Southland Band is as good as always, if not better, but no one pays any attention to their performances anymore because they can’t tear themselves away from their precious cell phone.  Sad!

If I were suddenly made the Sultan of Big Orange Country, there is a change I would make on day one.  I have always felt that we don’t do enough at football games to promote the country and bluegrass music that Tennessee and our region is famous for.  I would LOVE to see country music stars, joined by talented student musicians and our beautiful dance team girls, put on a show for our fans somewhere outside the stadium before every home game.   Think about what that would do to impress the visitors who travel from all over the world to the games.  Think about what it would do for recruiting. ESPN would be here every week. Maybe it will happen someday.

After a lifetime of devotion and 39 years in the same seats, is it reasonable to think that this activity will end just because retirement has freed me up to do other things? No way! I’d be less than honest if I said I hadn’t considered it.  With TV timeouts and play reviews, the games are much longer now.  Night games sometimes end close to midnight. Parking is complicated. A flat-screen HD TV and a cozy fire in the fireplace is a temptation hard to resist…but I can.

No…I’ve thought about it, but I’ll be there. Red is a little grayer and a little calmer now, but he’ll be there as always. I can count on Socks too–he never misses.  After about twenty seasons, his white socks must have evaporated so he replaced them with an Orange and White checkerboard pair (Bermuda shorts to match) and still gets there before most of us. Most of the old guys are gone, so the Vols need the three of us to lead the fight in Section JJ.

I think of myself as a true team player…an old quarterback who can still grip the ball, but, in reality, I think the old ball has gripped me…

I’ll be Easin’ Along.  Bowl practice starts next week.