In honor of the start of football season <oh joy>, I thought I’d write a post about tailgating. And I’m not talking about your traditional definition of tailgating. Nope, tailgating at our house is two adults grabbing their adult beverage of choice and sitting on the truck’s tailgate in the driveway. The dog usually gets to join us, but children are prohibited, well, strongly discouraged. The tailgate is our own little private getaway. The kids stay inside and watch TV; oh, and I’m sure they never watch anything inappropriate, but when we’re in tailgating mode, we really don’t care, just as long as they stay out of our hair.
We’ve pondered many a thing on the tailgate over the years. When we first moved into our neighborhood, there were a lot of young couples and families such as ourselves, and Gerald and I would take a guess at who would still be around as the years passed, and which couples would even still be together. Sad to say, Gerald was spot on for several couples.
We talk about how our days went, our goals and visions of the future, and what we want for our boys. We wave to neighbors and see the usual joggers and bikers, who typically stick to the other side of the street when they see our ferocious dog, Bama. We see speeders, pizza delivery drivers, guests of homeowners attempting to squeeze into impossibly tight spaces, and we’ve even seen a car back into a neighbor’s truck, but strangely enough, not a scratch was to be found on the truck.
We have withstood rain and mosquitoes, hot weather and cold; we find a way to make it work. Rain? A little rain shower never hurt anyone. Mosquitoes? It’s called DEET. Hot? Shorts are advised. Cold? Grab a jacket.
So while everyone else in America only tailgates for about two seasons, for Gerald and me, tailgating is a year round event. We’ll be sure to wave to you on a spring/summer evening, while we enjoy our own little tailgating tradition.