I'm a contranarian. I like to argue simply for the sake of arguing. Not because I like the conflict but because I thoroughly enjoy a lively debate and the discussions that it can spawn. I've presented myself as a ultra conservative to a die-hard Democrat and I've displayed a bleeding heart to a staunch Republican. But I'll never present myself as a vegetarian even for the sake of lively banter.
But my contrariness goes beyond politics or artificial debates. I tend to shy away from most things that occupy the mainstream of society. I like a lot of indy muysic and the stuff produced by independent labels. I nearly always root for the underdog when it comes to sports. And I shun any thing that comes with the term fashionable.
Why? Well that is an answer I can't answer in definite terms, but I will tell you my lack of conformity sometimes leads to ridicule, especially when it comes to football.
Now football is huge here in Texas. From high school on up to college ball and the NFL. Guess what? I do not root for The Texas Longhorns, Texas Tech Red Raiders, or even Texas A&M.
I bleed Nebraska Cornhusker Red and I have since elementary school.
Why? This one I can answer. My best friend in grade school was an Oklahoma Sooner fanatic. His room was decorated in OU paraphernalia and only his love for the TV show Dukes of Hazards compared to his passion for Sooner football. This was in the days of Barry Switzer. When every OU recruit got a free Uzi and prostitute. (Sorry Driller and Skeeter) Needless to say OU was a powerhouse in those days. Their only true rival at the time was Nebraska and the mighty Tom Osborn led Huskers. My buddy Mark hated the Huskers so my only choice was to adopt them as my team which they have been ever since.
My friend grew up, went off to Texas A&M and became an Aggie while I stayed close to home and rooted on the Huskers.
Soon enough Texas and Nebraska became rivals of a sort when their conferences were combined and suddenly I became a target for Longhorn fans. One particular year the two teams were scheduled to meet in the Big XII title game and Nebraska was heavily favored. I tried to find a few Texas fans to place a wager on the game but despite the fact I was spotting them three touchdowns not a single UT fan wanted to back their team with so much as a buck from their wallet.
Then in a shocker, Texas upset Nebraska and if that wasn't enough to ruin my day, I left work to find out my Jeep Cherokee had been vandalized. Orange shoe polish covered the windows, gaudy orange streams hung from the mirrors and antenna, and the hideous score was written across the hood in what appeared to be ready whip. This was early December and I froze my butt of cleaning the offensive material from my vehicle. With every shiver I plotted my revenge.
Putting my sleuthing skills to work I soon learned the identity of the culprit as one of my coworkers. A workplace buddy that didn't yet realize his was but the first shot in the war. Just for the record it does not pay to brag about your crimes.
One lawn mower, a dozen cans of red spray paint later, this is what my so-called buddies lawn looked like.
I wish I had a better, bigger shot of my artwork. For the record, that N is sixteen feet high and fourteen foot wide. To create it I cut his lawn as short as it would go and painted both sides of every blade of grass. All in broad daylight and without shame.
My buddies neighbor came out and asked what I was doing and without missing a beat I answered making a Christmas decoration. He replied with, "Don't get any on my yard," and went back inside without another word.
I only wish I could have seen the look on my buddies face when he came home.
The story doesn't end there. He spent some much time watering and raking that one area to get rid of the red paint when spring came he had a big green N which took most of the summer to blend in with the rest of his yard.
After that he declared a peace treaty with me saying under no circumstances would he ever do anything to me again no matter if Texas beat Nebraska a thousand times. I told him that was good because my other idea had involved climbing up on his roof and dumping a thousand pounds of feed corn down his chimney.
And for the record no I do not root for the Dallas Cowboys either. I am a New Orleans Saints fan and before you call me a trader to the Lone Star Ste let me remind you that the Cowboy owner Jerry Jones is an Arkansas oil man not a Texas and anybody who would dump a Texas legend like Tom Landry in such a callous fashion is the true traitor to our fine state.
Yeah I know this post was a rambling affair, but I given the fact I'm on the ever of vacation it's a miracle I strung anything together. This time tomorrow I'll be knee deep in a cool refreshing trout stream without a care in the world.