It's a Long Way To the Top, If You Wanna Rock and Roll

Today is the big game. When I was growing up, there was this constant rivalry between family regarding football. NFL, to be specific...Packers vs. Vikings to be downright to the point. Both my parents families are from WI. All but one of their siblings found their search for the American dream in Minnesota. Thus, the conflict. Sundays, Vikes at Lambeau, potluck, green-jello, homemade rolls, real butter, chocolate cake, kids everywhere, yelling, (dirty bastard!!!!, SOB, goddammit)-and THAT was only at the dinner table. Wait, just kidding. Football and our family gatherings was intense, but mostly I have fond memories. Our Grampa Ed was Vince Lombardi's servant. Well, tongue in cheek, Grampa loved his Packers. The rest of us offered up due respect.

So here I am, after living all of my adult life in Minnesota, and being a "Purple-People-Eater" fan, now living in Chippewa Falls, finding myself surrounded by folks I think should join Cheesehead's Anonymous, and gradually getting into, and understanding that all this reminds me of the days of my youth. It was a much simpler time.

Fred and I usually partake of game day at our local tavern, Poo's on the Pond (more on that name, later). It's a blast! Each game day, someone cooks up a culinary surpise. I have offered up my services on a few occasions, and today, I was invited by the Master of all Poo-dom...the honorable Poo himself-to bring on the mess.

Half-time means opening up the roasters and bringing out the plastic spoons and foam plates and enjoying whatever gustatory delights available. Sure, there's yelling, and swearing. Just like when I was a kid. It's great!

So far, no one has brought green-jello. But, there's hope.