A Night To Remember

Yesterday was a big day for the Dismukes household. A very big day. November 20, 2008 will go down in the annals of the Dismukes family history as one of the greatest days in the month of November, 2008 - just ahead of the day that I hung out with the Masons and nearly ate myself into a sugar induced coma and right behind (I predict) Thanksgiving Day itself. No, we weren’t celebrating Universal Children’s Day or even African Industrialization Day (though it was tempting). No sir. November 20 for the Dismukes family was all about college football. The 7-3 Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets played host to the #23 Miami Hurricanes in a Thursday night clash at Bobby Dodd Stadium in Atlanta, GA, and no Dismukes in my family was about to miss out.

The 2 older kids got to sit out a day of school for the big event, which instantly put this day among the grand occasions of holidays, teacher work days and the chicken pox. We began the 3 hour trek northward to the ATL at around 10 in the morning. While all members of the family were present, we were not all at 100 percent. Abby was still hanging on to a cold, and I was recovering from a stomach bug that had manifested the day before. Never you worry, however. Nothing keeps a Dismukes from enjoying Georgia Tech football. I simply popped a half dozen or so Immodium and we all drove northward for the big event.

The forecast for the evening called for a steady breeze of arctic cold temperatures, so we stopped along the way to buy some thermal underwear for everyone. As we pulled into the parking lot of Dick’s Sporting Goods, my son made an unwise decision. He used the store’s name to his advantage and made several crude jokes before he could be reached with a backhand. But the fascination for anatomy didn’t end in the parking lot. Once inside, he yanked down the pants of a sporty mannequin to see if he was anatomically correct. Then while waiting in the checkout line, he grabbed a couple of nearby oversized Koosh balls, which he used to pretend that he had ‘boobies’. After a few snickers from nearby onlookers, I administered another backhand.

We left Dick’s and headed up to the Tech campus. We arrived at around 3:00. The plan was to meet up with 2 old college buddies of mine, along with their families, and spend the afternoon tail-gaiting and visiting with old friends. We parked in the parking lot of the world famous Varsity – world’s largest drive-in restaurant – just blocks away from the beautiful downtown campus. We were the first to arrive, so we took our time getting our things together. Yes… I said ‘things’. When I was young and single, going to a ball game required only that I wear clothes. Now that I have kids, going to a game requires diaper bags, coats, snacks, crayons, extra clothes, sippie cups, pacifiers, seat cushions, and a football. We loaded ourselves up like pack mules, locked the car doors, grabbed the kids and began the walk to campus. After several minutes it dawned on me. We had left the most precious item in the car – the tickets. We headed back. Eventually we found them tucked up under the center console, but for a few minutes, I was panicked.

Having arrived on campus so early for a 7:30 game, we were able to claim our ground relatively easy. I threw the football with the kids until our friends arrived. Within an hour and a half, everyone was there, catching up, eating, and enjoying the on campus festivities. As the band assembled on the lawn in front of the Student Center, we all went closer for a listen. With my 2-year old daughter in hand, I made my way closer and waded through a flock of female Tech cheerleaders. I noticed that they didn’t appear manish as they did back when I was in school. No sir, these girls were actually cute. They all gawked at my daughter and smiled at me as we passed by. A thought hit me, “I finally have the attention of some cute cheerleaders and I can’t do a darn thing about it.” The thought passed quickly as the kids played football while we listened to the band. The Ramblin’ Wreck (a historical Georgia Tech icon picture above) drove by and the kids were quickly in hot pursuit. Isaac and Emily both touched it and swore they would never wash their hands again. I was proud of them. At twilight, we looked up in the sky and caught a glimpse of the Space Shuttle Endeavor as it orbited the Earth with 3 Georgia Tech graduates on board. It was a profound moment.

We caught the band once more at the library, then joined them as they marched ‘down the hill’ towards the stadium. The kids were eating it up – every moment of it. As we reached the stadium, we said our good-byes to friends and headed for our seats. It was cold – very cold. But we were warmed from the inside out by something greater – a severe butt-whipping by the Yellow Jackets over Thug U. That and the fact that we were in the midst of another wonderful family trip.

Sometimes being a Dismukes is hard business – like when people mispronounce your name, or when they make jokes about mucous and then laugh as if it were an original thought, or at a family reunion when there’s hardly anybody there (unlike the Smith or Jones family reunions where they must pack out entire football stadiums). But not last night. No sir, last night was a night for the Dismukes – one we’ll be talking about for days.

A Genius in the Making

The other day, I was in my back yard when I spotted my neighbors coming out of their house. I quickly darted behind the rapidly deteriorating tool shed behind my house before they could spot me, and I watched them through the ever widening cracks in the building’s siding. As they got into their SUV and drove out of sight, it dawned on me that there’s something wrong with the picture in which I then found myself. After all, it’s not every day that you hear of a 35 year old man spying on his neighbors in broad daylight. Then it hit me. I wasn’t spying. I was avoiding.

I was instantly ashamed. Then I thought of all the times I’ve avoided people over the course of my 35 years. I have actually become quite good at it. From fake stomach aches to made up schedule conflicts to the age-old excuse of “I was going to go, but I fell asleep” I’ve avoided lots of potentially uncomfortable situations over the course of my young life. Take for instance, my chance encounter with an old high school classmate, which took place just a few weeks ago. I hadn’t seen Ray in almost 18 years. I was in Target with my daughter. We were shopping for men’s toiletries, when I looked up and discovered a face that just 18 years earlier had been covered in the most horrible acne you’d ever hope to see. Now clean shaven and acne free, Ray had all the signs of a model citizen, and I should have approached him. I didn’t. Instead, Emily and I spent the next 30 minutes dodging in and out of the aisles like cockroaches in a recently lit room, hoping that he wouldn’t spot us. Actually… I was hoping. Poor Emily was as confused as she was dizzy from all of our back tracking. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just go say ‘hey’ to my old friend.

At first glance, such antisocial behavior can be a little troubling. After all, many criminals get their start by spying on their neighbors and dodging old friends at Target. However, I’d like to offer an alternative explanation. My anti-social tendencies are less a sign of criminal element and more an indication of genius… ness.

Schopenhauer postulated that true geniuses are almost always anti-social. One of the reasons for this is the simple fact that a genius can’t find intellectual stimulation in others, so he’s forced to choose instead his own company. Another cause for the observed behavior is the fact that geniuses often see the world in a different light than others – so it becomes necessary for them to ‘break away’ from the widely accepted views of the masses by refusing to conform to their social bonds.

Now, I’m not exactly sure who Schopenhauer is, but he makes a very compelling case. After all, I’ve always rather enjoyed my own company and many times, I find myself laughing out loud at my own internal dialogue. Other people, for the most part, just aren’t that interesting, and many times I fake laugh at their jokes just to get them to go away. Sometimes this backfires – like when I become so bored that I quit listening, then I fake laugh as they’re telling me about the death of a loved one. Of course, because I’ve quit listening, they’re the only ones who truly feel uncomfortable, so it’s not all bad.

At this point in my argument, you may be thinking, “what other signs of genius-ness have you demonstrated?” I’ve never developed an atomic bomb. I didn’t paint ‘The Last Supper’ or compose Sonatas at the age of 4. I don’t hold the patent to the light bulb or the computer. When I was 8, I did manage to build a house for my dog Skipper. I framed out the sides using 1x6’s, which took a long time. I was only 8. So when it came time to putting a roof on, I opted for the quick and easy route of buying a sheet of poster board and gluing it to the frame. I painted the whole thing baby blue, except for the top, which was a neon yellow sheet of poster board. Skipper was too scared of the house’s unnatural color that he never once went inside. My brother took one look at it and said, “nice job, genius.” And while I’m sure he meant well, I’m not sure that dog house qualifies me for genius status.

But I’m convinced that one day I will do something great. One day I will invent something. Or perhaps I’ll sculpt something beautiful. Or maybe I’ll become President of the US or start a multi-level marketing company. Until then, however, I’m a genius waiting to happen. I show all the signs. I’m truly an Einstein in the making.

Thanksgiving - The Forgotten Holiday

It's that time of year again. The post-Halloween sugar rush has come crashing down upon us and already store-fronts across the nation are littered with the debris of Christmas commercialism. Their blinking lights and neon Santas herald the dawning of another "Holiday Season" a good month and a half ahead of the most sacred day in the religion of materialism. Ironic, isn't it? Christmas is supposed to be about the birth of the Messiah who was so humble, even in his long anticipated arrival on planet Earth, that only a few earthy shephers and a stable full of smelly animals were allowed to participate in his welcoming party. Yet these days we kick off the celebration a month and a half early with all the discretion of a drunk monkey and invite everyone to come but the Messiah. Life is good here in bizarro world, isn't it? But this rant isn't about Christmas. No... that one will come later. This rant is about the forgotten holiday - Thanksgiving.

Poor Thanksgiving had the unfortunate assignment of being nestled between the 2 most self-indulgent of all holidays. And because of this unfortunate position, Thanksgiving is the holiday that nobody pays much attention to. Oh sure, we all just love turkey (which, if that's true, why do we only eat it on Thanksgiving?), but holidays shouldn't be identified with a bird. It's degrading. My wife once asked me what our marriage meant to me. I froze. I said the first thing that came to my mind, "home-cooked meals and unlimited sex." Didn't take me long to realize that wasn't the answer she was looking for. And yet, if you polled 100 people and asked them what Thanksgiving was all about, the vast majority of them would mention turkey. Thanksgiving is the red-headed step child of holidays.

And I know a thing or 2 about being a red-headed stepchild. I just so happens that I am a stepchild and yes, my hair is reddish-brown. I come from a family that was very similar to the Brady Bunch - only we didn't have a live-in maid and, to my knowledge, none of my brothers and sisters made out with each other "off camera". I was the youngest of 7 and often the forgotten one. I remember one Sunday, when I was 5, walking outside the church after the morning service where I spotted my parents and all my brothers and sisters sitting in our station wagon as it pulled out of the parking lot, headed for home. I was devastated. I cried violently as I noticed that one of my punk brothers was actually waving at me as the car sped by. I'm not so sure how far into Sunday dinner they got, but at some point the light went off and someone noticed that I wasn't there. Of course not - I was sitting on the church steps with a Sunday School teacher who was ready to call Child Protective Services. They eventually came back for me, but their point had been made.

You'd think that once would be enough. But you'd be wrong. A few months later, my mom and dad decided to take the whole family to a high-school football game. And so they did. Must have been a terribly exciting game too, because it was half-time before they noticed that I wasn't there! Once again, I had been left behind, only this time, no Sunday School teacher's shoulder to cry on.

And so I write this blog with strong emotional ties to the forgotten holiday. Like Thanksgiving, I too am a victim of cruel and heartless people who take perverse pleasure in destroying any fantasies one might have experiencing joy and love. Like Thanksgiving, I know the pain that comes from the blows dealt by the calloused and indifferent. And yet, like Thanksgiving, I find myself coming back for more... year in and year out... holding desperately to the belief that one day they'll come around... one day they'll appreciate me for who I am. Yes Thanksgiving... I too have played the part of the fool. And that's why... this year... I'm your biggest fan.

Thanksgiving... if you were a kid... I'd never leave you at church. And Thanksgiving, I'd take you to any football game you wanted to go see, and I'd make sure you saw the whole game... not just half of it. This year, Thanksgiving... is about you. We'll do what you want. If you'd rather have ham than turkey... then by all that is holy, we will eat ham! We'll show those no-good, flashy holiday lovin' people a thing or two. And if they give us grief, then we'll play for keeps. See... I know a guy who knows a guy... and I'm just sayin... if it comes to it, Thanksgiving... there's ways of dealing with those who stand in our way. I'm gonna make you a star, Thanksgiving. I'm gonna make people like you. You stick with me, pal... and everything's gonna be just fine.