Possumblog

Homecoming

What a nice Friday night! Just perfect--temperature just right for shirt sleeves, no humidity to speak of, no wind to make it too cold, and the bleachers were clean! We had to get there early because Ashley and the rest of the choir were going to be singing, so we went straight there after picking up all the young’uns from Grandmom's. Parked at the library, walked over to the stadium, paid our money, found some seats, and immediately had to start listening to Boy whine about not feeling well. ::sigh:: This incessant complaining was moderated by Catherine’s constant inability to sit still for more than one second.

Since we got there so early, we got treated to the parading panoply of people as they filtered in, and once again, I am amazed at the number of women, who, having reached a certain age, still think that they're able to wear the same clothes as their teenaged daughters--and successfully pull off the look. I’ve said it before, but since they don’t seem to have gotten the hint, I guess I can say it again, but all that blotchy, leathery, wrinkly cleavage isn’t really very nice to look at. Nor is the stalky fried blonde hair that is so thin I can see your scalp. And believe it or not, there are some features of your face--impressed as they are through long years spent sucking on Virginia Slims, flambéing on a tanning bed, and dieting on lettuce and Jack Daniels--that even a high-quality concealer cannot disguise.

And yes, I’m talking about you, Lady Who Sat in Front of Me.

Probably 50, looked closer to 80, was trying to look 20. And lest you think her skin-tight jeans, sparkly crop top, and denim bolero jacket is the province of the less financially-secure, rest assured that it was obvious the artfully-distressed, too-tight clothing and just-so hair-frying were purchased for good coin, and the large clunky rings on each finger didn’t come from Wal-Mart. It takes a rich woman to go out in public in a getup like that and be able to convince herself she looks good doing it.

Obviously, I’m not the one she or the rest of them were trying to impress, but it does kinda make you wonder just who it is they ARE trying to impress. Each other? Each other’s husbands? Their daughters? Their daughter’s boyfriends? Who knows. But I do know that youthfulness is more than the junk you put on, and trying to recapture a time in the past when you were pretty and popular by dressing like a kid (complete with an oh-so-scandalous rip in the seat of your pants) doesn’t make you look younger, it just makes you look sad. Youth looks forward, not back.

Even worse (at least for those who play that game), there’s always going to be someone better at at it than they are, like the well-toned petite girl who was sitting in front her, who was probably 30, and looked 18, even after having two kids. She made it very difficult to keep my mind on the game. And that’s even WITH Miss Reba sitting right beside me. My success in hiding my distraction, however, was witnessed by the fact that Reba never once elbowed me in the ribs, nor punched me in the face, nor asked, “What are YOU looking at.”

AS for the show, the choir got to sing the National Anthem and the alma mater, and did a bang-up job on both. Afterwards, Oldest went on to man the booth for her DECA club as they tried to unload various merchandise on the crowd. This included $10 spent by my family. First for a small stuffed $5 husky dog for Catherine, then another small stuffed $5 husky dog for Jonathan, who was jealous of Catherine, and still feeling so terribly ill and sick and unwell and hurtful. Until he got his own husky toy, after which he perked right up.

The game? As you can read in the link from the first post of the morning, it went well for us, and not at all good for the other team. But my goodness, those kids from Decatur could hit.

We left a few minutes into the third quarter, mainly so we would be able to get up on Saturday morning and get going. Anther early start, because we had to get Ashley to a conference at the Convention Complex downtown that her DECA club was having with all sorts of other DECA chapters from around the state. Had to be there at 8:30, which meant getting everyone up and leaving by 7:30.

Which we actually managed to do--with time to spare!

See, I told you it was a good weekend!

Posted by Terry Oglesby at October 3, 2005 12:08 PM