Thursday Night Football at the Hitching Post

I worked on the Prov project for Koop for a couple of hours in the morning. Sue did laundry. Then we went for a bike ride — ‘our loop’ with a detour through Mountain Brook. After lunch I restrung my guitar while Sue finished doing laundry and went to the pool. I wanted to try an antenna on our bedroom TV but I need a cable adaptor — a project for another day. After sundowners and a bit of putting in the backyard we had supper (shrimp) and I thought I’d watch Thursday Night Football. Oh no, now we don’t get Sportsnet on our Shaw! So I emailed the Bishops and headed out to the Hitching Post, a pizzeria and bar just across the road from Vista Point (our ‘community’). Yep, they had about 6 TVs showing the game. There were about 4 tables with customers, and a couple of guys sitting at the bar discussing the Buffalo Bills of days gone by. I sat down at the bar and ordered a Bud! I fit right in! No sound. Well, no TV sound. Everyone is looking up at the big flat screen TVs but way back in the far corner of the restaurant, far removed from any occupied tables, stands a sad-looking weary old ‘cowpoke’, holding a guitar and singing along with a ‘karaoke’ soundtrack. One table applauds sympathetically after each ‘song’. So I’m listening to the football fans next to me with one ear, focussing on the TV, and trying not to cringe too much every time old Hank there goes for one of those high lonesome wails! An email from the Bishops hints that they are going to try to get my channels back for me. I ‘facetime’ call Sue to find out if there’s any luck with our TV. Yes! By now the game looks like it will be an easy win for Miami, and I pay for my beer and walk back home. A million stars but it’s dark as pitch out here in this unlit development. Back home the game is on TV, although not in HD. Oh well, neither of these teams deserve HD. Sue makes an ice cream concoction with our Costco-sized barrel of Grand Marnier and the day ends on a happy note. No, EVERY day here ends on a happy note.