Homecoming

One thing I pride my blogs on is that I don’t usually have one topic of discussion, which usually means everything I write is pretty much free form, stream of conscious type stuff that sometimes ends up as enlightening insight, and other times ends up as run on mish mash that means nothing to anyone but me. So instead of picking a topic like world economics or our current president, I find myself writing about what’s interesting to me at the time. Today, I actually have a subject…homecoming!

I am a graduate of the University of Missouri.  In 1911, Missouri played the first homecoming game against Kansas.  From what I recall, it was called homecoming because for the first time, Chester Brewer, the Athletic Director at the time, urged all alums to ‘come home’.  And history was made.  

When I first think of homecoming, I’m taken back to 1984 when I got the nerve to ask a girl to the dance.  Like most high schools even today, homecoming is more about the dance than crowning a king and queen or even the game.  That’s high school, mind you. College is a totally different bird.  I remember making up my mind I was going to ask this girl, and must have practiced a hundred times what I was going to say.  If I remember right, the conversation went something like this:

Me:  “Is Jeannie there?”

Girl:  “This is she.  Who’s this?”

Me:  “It’s Mike from the play you’re in.  How are you?”

Girl:  “I’m good…how are you?”

Me:  “I’m good. Thanks.  I’m calling because homecoming is coming up and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me to the dance?”

Girl: “I’d love to”

Me:  “Great.  Well, I’ll call you later with the details.  Bye.”

That’s not how I had it planned out, but sweaty palms, shaky legs, and the feeling like I was going to puke made me alter my delivery slightly.

We got a limo with some greasy haired driver with a wandering eye, and went to dinner.  Where you ask?  TGI Friday’s of course!  Fettuccine Alfredo all around! At the dance, I remember one dance with her.  Stuck on you, but Lionel Ritchie.  We got back in the limo, dropped everyone off, and when it was my turn, I walked her to the door, thanked her, and went straight back to the limo feeling pretty durn good about myself.  No kiss attempt.  No discussion of going out again.  I survived my first ‘date’.  I don’t think we ever spoke again, even though we both seemed to have a good time. Sweet girl.

College was another story.  For me, homecoming was massive at Mizzou.  House decorations that took up the entire front yard and/or parking lot, complete with moving parts and smoke.  Hours of building, pomping, and playing tricks on unsuspecting freshmen girls that were sent to find things like left handed board stretchers and a bag of toe nails.  Innocent fun had by all. We’d spend the night in the parking lot to make sure no one came along and vandalized our work.  We neglected school and sleep to drive nails and put pieces of tissue paper on cardboard cutouts, and characters made of wood and chicken wire. I remember one year, we even had a working waterfall.  We couldn’t wait until Friday night of homecoming weekend when we’d be judged on our efforts, and could walk the campus to see what creative ideas came from the minds of our counterparts.

The parade for us was never anything major.  We usually built the float the night before, except for one year where we bought a car for $200, gutted it, got it running, built a frame around it, wrapped it in chicken wire, and covered the entire thing in tissue paper.  Sadly, we neglected to keep the driver’s seat, and didn’t account for the exhaust.  Nor did we account for the slow movement of the parade.  The car died while in line, and if I remember right, we pushed it through the entire parade.  Memories, am I right?

This past weekend, we went back to Southeast Missouri State and homecoming for my wife.  For the first time, we went in with no real expectations because we’ve learned over the years that if you set expectations and they aren’t met, the weekend is a bust.  So we made plans to stay with a friend in their incredible home, went to dinner and actually ended up pomping the float for her sorority.  It was almost like being in college all over again, except I didn’t have hours I had to complete and could come and go as I wished.  

The parade was more fun than I expected.  The creativity of the students was second to none.  The entire town just felt alive.  We tailgated with my wife’s old friends – although I’m realizing now she didn’t introduce me to any of them…hmmmm – got free tickets to the game, and quickly received an upgrade to the endzone party area where we stood within fifty feet of the players and dodged extra point attempts.  I asked my wife if she had a good time…she did.  As always, those friends she is still in touch with are still friends…sisters.  They pick up like no time has passed.  They were more than gracious to me, and I can’t thank them enough for the hospitality.  I also kind of wish I would have gone to a smaller college like SEMO, but that’s another subject for another day. 

I think more than anything, I realized how in this life, we all have moments that stick with us more than others, just like we have those people who have come into our lives and made a lasting impact.  When we don’t get to see some of those people we’d hope to, we look forward to the next opportunity.  

Keep smilin’