Blogging Melodrama

I sat in my car parked along the fence at the South Bend High School football game this evening; watching my grandson play tight end position. Along the sideline fence it's like the old time drive-in movies, only spectators are watching live players in the section known as the cheapskate seats.

Excuse me? Just because the ticket booth doesn't get a fee doesn't make me a cheapskate. I and my fellow spectators have several reasons why we choose to watch from the fence line in our vehicles.

First: since everyone has made smoking a reason to be shunned, and it isn't permitted on school grounds; let alone the bleachers, rather than offend or be offended by the stares and remarks, smokers sit in their own vehicles and light up whenever they please. They are happy and we non smokers as well.

Second: I can't stand fighting crowds to get to an aluminum stadium seat. When I sit down my tush freezes sending chills up my backside until I have to go to the restroom. Then I'm forced to fight my way through the crowd of hot dog and soda toting adults. Each one failing at herding at least six unruly children with all the manners of a terrorist: punching, gouging, kicking, spitting, yelling remarks about the opposing side or just plain being a nuisance.

I get to the restrooms to find the floors with gob-by toilet paper stuck to the floor, ceiling, sink and anywhere but on the roll because it's empty. There is a puddle large enough to fish in at each stall; those kids I just fought my way past, must have been here. If I stand in front of the little eye, the toilet flushes and makes more water mess on the floor for my pants legs to sop up. Thanks anyway I'll pass.

Third: It is much warmer in my vehicle even with the windows rolled down so the neighboring spectators can chat during boring times. I listened to the Presidential debate this evening.

Fourth: I can bring munchies I like instead of those gob-by messes served at the concession stand. I like my chips crisp, not drenched in chili and cheese and left to sit till they are like wobbly mush, or better described as last weeks leftovers in a paper trough. MMMMMmmmmmm tough decision, do I dunk my chips into the chili and cheese or do I want that crap. I'll bring my own stuff.

Fifth: I can use my binoculars when the play is at the far end of the field and see them in every detail. I don't have someone trying to cajole me into forking over my field glasses and then fight them to get them back because they let one of their garbage eaters smear chili and cheese on the lenses.

Sixth: A major point for me is when I get bored with it all; and I do after sitting that long, I can just tell everyone good-bye and turn the key on and drive away. No fighting crowds out of the stadium, across the field, through the parking lot, warming up the vehicle, fighting the traffic our of the neighborhood of the school. When I've had enough football I can just go home.

Seventh: Parents that have to wait for their kids can see when they're coming out. Many make game night a family night out to celebrate a victory, or commiserate a defeat by going to the bowling alley for a few lanes and pizza.

Whatever the reasons, to many of us, the cheep-skate seats are the best in the house. The school doesn't realize that if they made the parking area better we would be happy to pay for the right to do any of the reasons I've already given. There are many valid reasons: ability to just stop by for a few minutes and watch the game before leaving for work or just after getting off work or picking up or dropping off some visitor.

In our little berg there is only one stadium on one side of the football field, not on both sides like it was in my home town in Ohio. We had wooden bench seats. Granted it was more upkeep, but it drew far more spectators than the cold noisy aluminum seats of today's stadium.

There is no half time entertainment to break the monotony of the rampant testosterone and excessive estrogen emanating from the bank-lited field and grounds.

Being a proud grandmother, I don't suffer either of these infirmities nor do I have to keep face through the bragging ritual of my kid's better than yours; as do most of the button popping parents. I find no need to prove my grandkids are the best; the facts speak for themselves.

Our family motto used to be "Nobles Oblige"; at least it was until my daughter married and had children in sports. Now it has been decided when you mix my families motto with my son-in-laws family motto "Trustworthy and Tenacious" and you get "I'll be proud to kick your ass."

So don't call my extended family a cheep-skate within arms reach or you'll get the new proud family motto with a smile.