A monthly editorial piece of masterful opinionated writing (insert joke here) regarding life and times in the big town of Tuscaloosa coupled with the musings of a guy nicknamed “Oz.”
There’s already a conflict.
How on earth does this happen? Dost the masses not understand the unwritten rule of the south - the rule that states, and I quote, “Thou shall not schedule important and/or life-altering events during any given Saturday for the duration of the fall season?”
Yet somehow, it occurs. A blind eye is turned. The rule overlooked. The statute ignored. The priorities flushed.
In the college football fan attendance and viewing playbook for the upcoming season, November 7, 2015, looked to be one of those days of perfect gridiron engagement bliss. Alabama vs. LSU. Auburn vs. Texas A&M. Tennessee vs. South Carolina. Arkansas vs. Ole Miss. The list goes on…
The football scheduling brass looked down upon their work. They savored their craftsmanship, as they had created a gift to all SEC college football fans of the world. They celebrated their achievement with high-fives and self-adoration, while visions of advertising dollars danced in their heads. The people approved. And they were pleased.
Harmonious celebration was sure to ensue. Birds chirping. Children laughing. Fathers rejoicing.
But in the distance, a thunderstorm was evolving, in the form of an intrusive, upper-level low made up of everlasting commitment and impending nuptials - a disturbance caused by a jet stream of affection; a cold front of love.
Indeed, a friend scheduled his wedding on Nov. 7, and out of state to boot.
Suddenly, the vision of tailgating and grilling and chips and dips became blurry. The glory of the first game starting at 11 and the last game ending at 11 and never missing a moment of it became distorted. The outlook was grim, and the future uncertain. Gloom, despair and agony were soon to be followed by deep dark depression and excessive misery. If it weren’t for bad luck I’d have no luck at all.
After coming to grips with the certain doom, the football Gods smiled, and as luck would have it… the happy couple changed their wedding date. But there is no way I was going to erase all of this and start over.
Rest assured, something will come up. It always does, just like it did 10 years ago. And sometimes, certain events trump (not an endorsement) other events.
To be fair, and for all of those keeping score at home, yours truly got married in the month of October which, of course, is smack-dab in the middle of football season. It was a gorgeous day, with lovely weather and low humidity. But most importantly, it was to a beautiful woman who has managed to put up with my eccentricities for almost 10 years. She deserves an award, and she most definitely deserved her wedding day whenever and wherever she wanted it. And she got it.
That’s how it happens. And that, my friends, is priority.
Happy Anniversary, Honey.
I tweet insignificant things @ozborn34.
Derek Osborn is the Executive Director of PRIDE of Tuscaloosa by trade and writer by hobby. He lives in Tuscaloosa with his wife, Lynn, and daughters Savannah and Anica.
Article sponsored by Bradford Health Services.
Find them on the web at: https://bradfordhealth.com