This post brought to you by Project Reclaim My Blogging Mojo & the color orange

I love writing. I really do. When I go back and read the last months or years of this blog, I remember that. Still, I haven't been motivated to write here as I'm sure you've noticed. I'm not going to blame it on the business of life or teaching or anything else because, let's face it, I have plenty of time to read blogs and a hundred other thing out on the web.

So why am I not writing? I think it's just been plain old laziness. I have blog posts swirling around in my head all the time but I haven't been disciplined enough to write them out. Well, enough is enough. It's time to get disciplined. So you heard it here first- I will post every day this month, my birthday month.

I'm going to have to ease into this, so here's a little pictorial blog from a few weekends ago. For the first time ever, Jason and I attended a University of Tennessee football game together. It. Was. Awesome.

Behold....

{I swear, my top has orange in it.} 

{One of my sweet students from last year. Love that kid.}

{Seriously. How awesome are those pom pom pants?}

And really, is there any better way to end a post than with orange checkered pants? I didn't think so.

Military Training. Football Fan. It's all the same.

When Allie was down in Birmingham for Officers Training School, she was selected to help train the new lower class for their first six weeks. This training began at Day One, the minute they stepped off the bus. From how to salute to how to stand at attention, the new OTs were responsible for whatever they had just been taught as soon as they were taught. That included how to greet an officer/fellow OT. One unfortunate group of brand new OTs gave a less than enthusiastic response to Allie's greeting and...well, see for yourself.



I've said it once, I'll say it again: I would last exactly 2.6 seconds in the military before I left weeping.

Cut to this weekend and some intense Tennessee Volunteer football.



Let's just say I escaped to the kitchen to make those no-bake crack cookies towards the end of a very disappointing game.

Apparently, I'm not cut out for intense football viewing either.

Here's hoping the Vols season gets better!

Neither sneezing nor migraine will keep me from this post.

Such is my commitment to sharing the last part of what I believe Traci correctly called “the best inaugural UT game experience EVER.” So, continuing on. After a photo op with a slightly larger and fuzzier version of Smokey, Sarah and I headed for our seats inside of Neyland Stadium.

As we wound our way through the ramps leading up into the stadium, the anticipation built and my grin got wider and wider. And then, there it was…

Vast and glowing, an architectural behemoth checkered in orange and white.

After my initial peek into this Tennessee landmark, Sarah asked if I wanted to head down to the Lettermen’s Club located on field level. Um, am I willing to chase a celebrity and ask him for a picture? Heck, yeah! Down we went and shamelessly worked her husband’s letterman status {thanks, Kyle!} in order to get in. And then, there it was. The checkerboard, mere yards from me…

Oh yeah, and there was this other guy there, Johnny Majors.

I heard he was a big deal or something.

After stocking up on free snacks, water and cokes {take that, overpriced concessions stands!} we headed up to our seats and the gorgeous view that spread before us. And this is where our tale takes a sad turn. I took this one last shot…

…and my camera battery died. Kaput. Done. And like a total moron, I hadn’t brought my extra battery with me. So the rest of my pics are courtesy of my cell phone. Sigh. But what better to snap me out of my camera funk than a marching band? Bring on the Pride of The Southland Marching Band! Go Vols!

{We weren’t sitting on the home side, so just flip these pics in your head, m’kay? Thanks.}

The Power T

And here they come! We settled in for the first half in which I sang “Rocky Top” at least fifty times as we rolled over the Memphis Tigers.

At halftime, the alumni band joined the current band and taunted me with the first formation for the famous Circle Drill. If you haven’t ever seen this, click on over here and watch {it starts around 2:30}. AMAZING. We didn’t get the whole deal {teasers} but it was still a pretty great show. They even had the guys who first recorded “Rocky Top”, the Osborne Brothers, out on the field to perform. Pretty sweet!

Game won and “Rocky Top” sung another fifty times, we headed down for one more shot with Smokey and one last shot with the checkerboard.

Blissfully happy and deliciously exhausted from the wind, cold and hollerin’, we headed home to Chattanooga. But not before one last stop at Waffle House for a late night snack and “Don’t Stop Believing” on the jukebox.

Trust me, someone had to redeem the terrible frat band cover we heard that afternoon.

Go Vols!

Good Ol’ Rocky Top

It’s official. I am now a full-fledged Tennessee Volunteer fan. Until yesterday, I had only heard of the wonders of Neyland Stadium, the Vol Walk, Smokey and the Pride of the Southland Marching Band. But now? Now, I have tasted and seen. And it is good, my friends, it is good.

{Now, please bear in mind that this in NO WAY violates my loyal and undying devotion to my beloved UNC Tarheels, particularly in the arena of college basketball. I’m a Tarheel born and a Tarheel bred and when I die I’m a Tarheel dead. No matter how many orange shirts I may don.}

The grateful recipients of two tickets and a much valued parking pass near the stadium, Sarah and I headed up to Knoxville for a 7 p.m. homecoming game versus the University of Memphis. Sarah twirled baton with the marching band back in her UT days and I was thrilled to have an alumnus show me around and initiate me into the ways of the Vols.

Having lived my whole life in college town, I was giddy with glee as we drove through the main streets of Knoxville and the UT campus. The fans, the bright orange everywhere, the sounds of tailgating all around- it was a happy soundtrack indeed to a gorgeous afternoon. And then, one turn and then another, and there it was…

The largest stadium I have ever seen, it towered above everything.  The tailgaters were in full effect and everywhere you looked was orange- orange shirts, orange chairs, orange coolers, orange tents, orange cars.

Sarah’s husband played football for Tennessee and so we were able to take a peek into some spots that were closed off to the general public.  I’m not going to lie, I am all about the exclusive-behind-closed-doors tour. Behold, where the magic happens…

{Blurry, I know, but I was so stinking excited about standing on the actual field where the football team has trod!}

  We found a few familiar faces hanging around as well.

{Sarah’s husband, Kyle. Hunka hunka, yes?}

Then it was on to the band room. I could not hardly believe that I was standing in the middle of all these talented musicians, the only collegiate band to have been asked to march in thirteen inaugural parades, more than any other college or university in the U.S.

I love nothing more than walking around a college town on a game day and Knoxville was no different than Chapel Hill. Tried and true fans everywhere and the happy sounds of fight songs, cheers and tailgating music from all directions.

It’s Smokey! Bless him, he was distracted and wouldn’t properly pose for us. Head in the game already, I suppose.

After the Vol Walk {when the players and coaches walk from the bus to the stadium, we were too late to get a good spot and my picture of this is more of the crowd than the team}, as the crowd dispersed, I looked to my left and spotted a familiar face. “Hey, is that Mike from ‘Desperate Housewives’?” I asked to no one in particular.

“Yeah, it is,” said a random stranger.

In my twenties, I would have gazed after him wonderingly, wishing I had gotten a picture.

And now? In my thirties?

“Are you kidding me?!?!” I hollered and promptly made a beeline for him through the crowd. There he was, James Denton, alumnus of UT and a proud southerner. I caught up to him, stepped quietly to his side and asked, “Would you mind taking a picture with us?” He was adorably gracious and obliged.

I am not going to lie. Sarah and I stood in that street after he walked away and jumped up and down like thirteen year old girls. It was awesome. And more awesome was still to come…Tomorrow, the game!