Piss Me Off One Last Time

An Essay about family and fall

Every year when I’m able to put on jeans and a sweatshirt for the first time I get tickled pinker’n a pig’s rear end, yall! Of course being from the south I’m aware that we have about 10-12 “false falls” before the real one sets in, but I’m giddy nonetheless.

Everything just seems a little better this time of year. Summer moves too fast if you ask me, and I’ve done put the president of Gold Bond’s kid through college and still got chafed thighs to show for it. Sorry, that may be information you didn’t care to be privy too, but when you’re built like me (Tina Turner in her prime) the summer sweats are hell on your nether regions. Screw windmills, hook a turbine up to my nads when I’m bout to go on a July park-stroll and I’d have a Brooklyn city block lit free for a year.

I can already tell that I’m gonna gain some weight in the next few months. Every year we swear we ain’t gonna let it happen this time, don’t we? We sit there and lie to ourselves and right to the good lord’s face by uttering such foolishness as “I will only have one bowl of Mama’s chili” or “you know, I suppose we don’t have to make Buffalo chicken dip for every football game”. Horseshit. Yes we do. And as far as Mama’s chili is concerned, why, she’s getting older and we don’t know when it’ll be the last time she makes it! Is a couple lbs on the scale really worth hurting her feelings anyhow? I don’t think so, and while she’s at it, she should make some cornbread too so she don’t get rusty!

What is it about 40-50 degree weather that makes cobbler taste so much better by the way? Has anyone got the science on this? Don’t get me wrong, I can pert near go to town on any type of dessert year round, but there is something about the fall that makes baked goods seem like a perfectly normal addition to any meal. Cinnamon hides out all spring and summer only to burst on the scene when the leaves change color and take the nation by storm. If cinnamon don’t make you happy then you need Jesus or professional help. I don’t necessarily believe in Jesus, actually, but cinnamon does let me know that there’s at least something out there that loves us. Maybe it’s Betty Crocker hell I don’t know.

To add to all the wonderful things I’ve already mentioned, it’s football season baby! Of course it’s possible that there are many of you reading this who do not like football. First of all, that’s totally fine, we are all allowed to be wrong about some things. But secondly, even if you do not like football, you can still benefit from it! How, you ask? Well the next time one of your Uncles or Dad starts going on some sort of Fox News rant at Thanksgiving, just look them in the eye and repeat after me: “Boy I tell you what, these players today wouldn’t have survived back in Johnny Unitas’s era!”. Trust me… they won’t be able to talk about anything else for a few hours, and you can slowly back away and make yourself another plate.

That’s what makes Fall so wonderful, I reckon. All the opportunities we have to get together with those we love, even if only to be reminded why we only do this once a year. We bicker and fight, but we do it in person with a belly full of Sweet potato casserole instead of online filled only with hate!

As we approach the holiday season I can’t help but think about the ones who aren’t with us anymore. There is a family real near and dear to my heart that just had a tragedy befall them. I feel so guilty that I’m sitting here writing about the weather and how excited I am while they pick out a casket. I’m making jokes about Mama’s chili while they upload pictures for a slide show. They also have to see me wedged in to a button down shirt with my bald head exposed at the service..that’s never made anyone feel better!

That’s life though, I guess. We gotta be happy in the moment we are given because as Granny used to say “we ain’t promised tomorrow!” I’m gonna try to think about that this Holiday season when I start to let something stupid bug me. Instead of trying out a smart ass retort, perhaps I’ll put another bite of pie in my mouth instead. I can burn off the calories, but I can’t un whip my own ass!

Some things need to be argued about, that’s for sure, and I reckon I’ll always stand up and have those fights… but as for the rest of the petty squabble, I’m gonna let it pass. Who knows how many more times we will all be together again, and lord knows there have been people in my life who I wish were around just to piss me off one last time.

‘ Corey