17 years ago, I graduated from SMU. The weekend before graduation, the Sigma Chi graduating class made a run out to a brothers home in Arkansas. We played kickball. We drank a keg. We ate a lot of food...
...and four of us stayed up all night playing a Hearts game to 500. That night we made a foolish contract with one another...that we would play every year in a new state of the union.
We are probably not the first group of guys to make such an arrangement...and we will not be the last. The problem is that you get older and things change. For instance, it is no longer a natural thing for me to chug a full bear when I get dropped the 'lady' on me. Even a half a cup can hurt when it is your 5th lady out of 6 hands. I don't drink like that anymore. I have moved on.
The game hasn't.
This is our 17th year getting together to play this game...in a different state.
This year was going to be a tough year b/c I have moved Down Under to Sydney. I had surrendered to the fact that this would be the year that circumstance intervened. We could just not make it work.
Then Accenture stepped in and provided the means for me to get to the US at a time that roughly worked. Everyone made it work.
So, a couple of weeks ago, I found myself US bound to Atlanta, GA. I got really sick on the way and ended up having the worse flight in my history of flights. Not a good start. Despite this and upon my arrival, I immediately found:
I had a pecan waffle and hashbrowns "all the way". I also had a never ending glass of diet coke...without asking. I was definitely not in Australia. You get great service at the Waffle House counter. You almost apply a different label to yourself. You kinda cloak yourself in grease and surrender to the comfort of the South.
Despite being in the middle of the afternoon Sydney time, I found little difficulty in sleeping that night in Atlanta. When I awoke, I felt this strange craving. So, I found:
Patty Melt plate with the hashbrowns 'All the Way'...with the never ending glass of diet Coke (b/c I am watching my figure). I was heaven. My body was beginning to revolt...again. Not good.
I then had to make a run for US supplies to pack into my suitcases. I probably added 30 pounds to the load. Much of them from the women's isle. Much of them small and fragranced. I received a lot of looks at the checkout. Since I was a dumb mule, I did not react and opted to behave the part.
I then met up with my pledge brother and Senior year room mate Young Eric Hallerberg. Yes, Eric is the one who showed up late to our Rehearsal Dinner inspired by a prodicious amount of Wild Turkey. Yes, Eric is the one who slept in Minneapolis the night before my wedding. Yes, Eric Hallerberg is the one who backed up our septic system the day of my wedding. Yes, Eric is still single, drives a Mini, and lives in a suspect building in a more stylish part of Dallas. I love this man b/c he introduced me to Les Mis, enjoys soccer, loves Lord of the Rings, and is always up for a debate...even though we are politically aligned. We are, in essence, good mates. Eric has lost in the game of Hearts 5 times coming into this years game.
Anyway, Eric and I had a 5 hour drive from Atlanta to Charleston, SC. We made this trip b/c we had already played in GA in previous years. I think Hal had lost. Charleston is the spiritual deep South. It probably doesn't get any deeper. I didn't realize this until I realized that the 'War of Northern Aggression' and the Civil War were the same things. At that point, I realized I was in a different country...far from Minnesota...and even further from Australia.
We then met up with brothers Greg Webb and Graham Gibbs. These two are pledge brothers a year ahead of Eric and myself. They are both married with families. Greg is terrifically successful in whatever he tries...except the Game (he has lost 4x). He is naturally gifted, charismatic, charming, and extremely competitive. Greg uses this event to decompress in a paradoxically energetic way. Shotgunning beers and pounding nachos are fundamental aspects of the weekend for Greg.
What can I say about Graham. The friendship developed during uni pails in comparison to what we have now. Graham has that everlasting perspective that I am naturally drawn to. When I say he is my brother, it goes well beyond our fraternal ties. It is a statement of faith. God put Graham in my life to encourage me, to lift me, to guide me, to walk with me. He is a gift of God's greatness.
Moving on...
Our game is a formal affair. First order of business is to distribute the customary wine of choice...Boonesfarm. How we got this going...I don't know. It is aweful...but it is tradition.
We then review the historical record kept up to date by Graham.
We then read the formal constitution.
We then propose amendments. It is always contentious.
We then play the game. The first hand is always a warm-up Hold-em. I think I lost. That means I had to drink for the lady out of the custom made cup. We then started the affair. Eric was first to taste the hard sting of points.
In fact, after the first four hands, Eric had already assumed a commanding lead. This is pretty typical. We had already decided that the night would not be holed up in the hotel, but would be spent in beautiful Charleston.
We had a fun night...and I began to hit stride mid-afternoon Sydney time which is really late Charleston time. Both Eric and Greg went home. Graham and I stayed out to enjoy the night some more. What this means is that we have a lot of discussion on the blessings in our life. Graham and I spend hours talking about the amazing things God has done for us. The more we talk, the more inspired we got...the less we want to go home. We just have too much energy...too much Holy Spirit to go home. So we stay out. Unfortunately, we stay out beyond the reach of normal taxi drivers.
Fortunately, we found Dink. Dink's taxi car was not a normal car but a reconstructed, painted up towncar that has a bad stereo and muffler. It is a scary car. Dink was scary as well. Dink has a very scary neck.
Dink was able to turn a 15 minute cab ride into a 45 minute adventure. We even had to stop at a Kangaroo gas station to fill up. I was in the deep south so I stayed in the cab...protected by my faith. We got home...we tried to wake up our friends.
They look so innocent. So pure. So sweet. Don't be fooled. The room was hot, sweaty, and stunk of socks and flatulance. Very Nasty. They were not interested in what we had to offer. Which, of course, was:
3x in less than 48 hours is my limit. I went with the Pecan Waffle again. We were finally able to end the night..at 4AM.
That brings to a close this post. I am done for now, but I will post the remainder tomorrow.
