It’s a sunny 10AM and my coffee was delicious. Thank you for asking.
One of my favorite things about my house is how quiet it is – a far cry from the never NOT busy Mission Beach Boardwalk; my old neighborhood. The thought of how I had the opportunity to live oceanfront for six years and very rarely enjoy it will haunt me for the rest of my life. Moving forward: we’re down a little-used street – a dead end off a “No Through Street” kind of area. The neighborhood, while not the best, is essentially VERY quiet. You’ll hear the sounds of dogs barking, cars peeling out, traffic waves (like the ocean, but a little less methodical), wind, people faintly chatting, landscaping tools, the strains of occasional music, gunfire, the hum (and sometimes roar) of a plane or jet.
We live near the airport – not quite in the flight path (there is NO WAY I could do that) – and also near a sheriff’s gun range. Several times every day there is that unmistakable sound of a plane with dropping altitude, and what sounds like fireworks. Both of these sounds were prevalent in my childhood (there was a gun range nearby as well) so it all feels very familiar and as-it-should-be. Noises that happen are generally never right in my ear; they’re far enough to create a nice sense of Things Happening and not This Place Being Too Goddamn Noisy. If things were quieter, it would be weird. There would be the feeling that everyone on the outside could hear everything on the inside, and no one wants that.
It’s October now though, magically, and that means Sundays are for Sports. Mainly football. Specifically Steelers football – and if it’s not football, it’s hockey. This is what happens when you live with someone who is a die-hard Pittsburgh Fan. Personally I don’t love football in the preseason or even early regular season. I start paying attention around my birthday (January 10th, woop woop), because prior to that my focus is set on Halloween, then set on NOT focusing on Thanksgiving or Christmas. The beginning of November marks the start of my two least favorite months of the year. January is my birthday, February has both my husband and good friend’s birthdays, March is my niece-in-law’s birthday, April is now my wedding anniversary, and May is our anniversary of being together. Thanksgiving is only good because it means hanging out with people who cook like it’s their job, and Christmas Season is awful because of how you get shunned if you don’t want to buy presents. Those are tangents for another time, much like how my ten-year anniversary of living in Sandy Eggo was August 19th and I was busy being hella sick. (It’s still kind of awesome though. Okay, REALLY awesome.)
The point to all these words is that I know it’s football season, and I kind of don’t care.
Yes, my heart roots for the Steelers and the Penguins because that’s just how it is (shoutout to the hometown!!), but football season has been ingrained in my mind with a bad flavor of Really Loud Noise and Obscenities. There are lots of memories that are acquainted with BAND!, one of my favorite things ever, but when your house is filled with Couch Coaching, it’s different. Not saying he isn’t good at sports or doesn’t know what he’s talking about (he is and he does), but my one hope is that he realizes that the people on TV (or the radio, or the internet) can’t hear him. Their actions and decisions will not be swayed by being louder.
Does that make me a bandwagon fan? A fair-weather fan? Not particularly. I just don’t have enough interest in football (or sports in general) to get me pumped up about it. I don’t play fantasy teams, I don’t follow the stats. Sometimes I’ll watch ESPN if it’s on, but I’ll never actively look for the channel. If any of my favorite teams are in the playoffs, then I’ll get excited, but my excitement really only spans mid-November to late February. It’s cool by me to tune in partially through the third quarter or even the last quarter of a game (ESPECIALLY during early season games). I have no problem heading out to the zoo, beach or park on a Sunday during football season because it will be EMPTY out there. It’s great!
One of the main reasons it sucked to live on the boardwalk was because of the sports fans that lived in very close proximity to me. Close enough to where it felt like my house was a bar EVERY DAY. None of them cheered for any of the teams on my interest list, which wouldn’t have made it much better, but at least might have made things a little more tolerable.
Oh, it’s also Chai Latte And Scarf season, or at least it would be if it wasn’t 76° outside.
Anyway, here’s a photo from what I’m pretty sure were ALL of the seniors in band for that year. That’s me in front because In Front is how I roll. It’s how all short people roll, and yes that pose was my own impromptu choice. Dunt dunt dunt!