Why I like living in a party town
You need to keep your spirits up when your senator can't name the three branches of government
Our flagship university here in Alabama ranks No. 5 among the nation’s top party schools, and you might attribute that to its exuberant football culture.
But there’s another reason why people might want to kick up their heels up in Tuscaloosa: You need to keep your spirits up when your senior senator is a former football coach who misidentified the three branches of government, inspiring a social media meme: “Tommy Tuberville thinks the three branches of government are offense, defense, and special teams.”
I live a few hours south of the university in a town quiet enough that big-city journalists call it Mayberry on the Bay. But people here party as they never did on The Andy Griffith Show.
In my native New Jersey you needed a logical reason to pop a few champagne corks, such as that the Giants had won the Super Bowl or a jury decided that Sen. Bob (“I have never been anything but a patriot”) Menendez should show his patriotism in ways that don’t involve taking bribes from agents of foreign governments.
Here in Mayberry, any excuse for a celebration will do. One of my neighbors has a watch party for every new episode of Yellowstone. Who cares that Yellowstone National Park is two thousand miles away?
The high season for parties begins two weeks before Mardi Gras, which brings hundreds of parades to my part of the Gulf Coast. Mayberry has five, including a walking parade for dogs sponsored by the krewe of the Mystic Mutts of Revelry, which supports an animal shelter.
Tailgate and other parties erupt when the University of Alabama is playing, especially in the Iron Bowl against in-state rival Auburn. During the run-up, you’ll see flags flying from front porches saying “A House Divided.” That’s your warning that one member of a couple went to Alabama and another to Auburn.
But Halloween holds its own. The thinking seems to be that even if you don’t invite the neighbors over for orange-and-brown cupcakes and Good People Pale Ale (“legally brewed since 2008”), you can flaunt your party spirit by having a “Trunk or Treating” extravaganza in your school or church parking lot. One of our elementary schools had one that asked children to dress as their favorite fictional character. It handed out free books instead of candy from open trunks. What’s not to like about that?
You need a few after-hours parties when you’re a writer, as I am, and spend your days trying to reroute words on a screen so that they’ll reach their destination instead of flying off into the Van Allen Belt. Whether that means tailgating at a stadium or going to a Mardi Grass ball at a hotel, festivities like those can keep me from feeling as though I’m living in a custom-designed witness protection program.
Trunk-or-treating won’t start until next month. But do you even have to ask if yards are already frothing with the Halloween spirit? Not if you were here a few years ago when two of my neighbors posted a sign announcing that until Oct. 31, you entered their house through their Pearly Gates.
Jan is an award-winning critic and journalist in South Alabama.
What an informative essay about a state that probably doesn’t deserve high-quality peeps like you supporting the tax base.
Your co-residents surely do elect some wieners, er, I mean winners. (Or do I…?)
'Bama fans also like to travel. The Madison airport was full of 'em yesterday!