It's Someone Else's Turn

You Don't Live There Anymore Even if it Just Means More

All eyes are on Norman, Oklahoma this weekend for the big game. While the storylines write themselves, many questions will be answered by the end of Saturday. The biggest question around Norman, as evidenced by spending the day there Thursday is none more than “What are your plans for Saturday?” It’s replaced the obligatory and meaningless pleasantry of “How are you?”

For my non-college football friends, do those exist, this is often the question from September to November around these parts, further solidified by OU joining the SEC and thus declaring Saturdays in the South are for football and nothing else because it just means more. People plan weddings, baby deliveries, and funerals around football games, it’s a big deal and I was once one of those people. I lived for Saturdays mainly because they were a relief and escape from a job I hated and a miserable life. Gamedays meant I had survived another week and provided a weekend binge to escape from life. I had earned another paycheck only to spend it all on football. I don’t just mean game tickets, I mean all-day tailgate parties, hotels, travel to away games, the perfect outfits, etc…followed by the major bar tab afterward to either celebrate or commiserate. It wasn’t just a game, it was an event that occurred every Saturday in the fall. This is still happening but to steal a phrase from Laura McKowen and many in the recovery rooms, “I don’t live there anymore.”

You don’t live there anymore.

This isn’t a phrase that refers so much to a physical address, although that too is applicable in my life, it’s symbolic of you are no longer the person you used to be. While others may still have you living at that address, you know deep in your soul you are no longer that person. The old identity is gone. Permit yourself to release that version. Get rid of the old furniture, you are free to start over.

So on Thursday when our young waiter at our favorite ¹pub asked if we were gearing up for Saturday, yes we used to start on Thursdays and yes there were many others in the pub doing just that, even some clad in orange, I never felt more confident in a simple “No.” It’s someone else’s turn and we have the Facebook memories and scars to prove it. Gamedays were what my mom and I did together and after she died in 2019 those never felt the same. For a few years after there was a longing to continue, some FOMO, and a bit of clinging to the past. I tried to insert myself into gamedays but they ju

st weren’t the same. As I’m designing my dream house, OU football no longer owns a room there. People seem confused by this. To be clear, I got sober I didn’t have a lobotomy. I still watch, cheer, support, and hate all things orange but much like alcohol no longer controls my every waking moment, neither does OU football. I don’t have the brain space or emotional capacity for it anymore. I’m at a place of full acceptance, I don’t live there anymore it’s someone else’s home now. Treat it well and give it the same love that I did for many decades.

Me and my mom the last time we played Tennessee.

Much like people send out a change of address or a family newsletter, this is mine. In the words of the great Tom Petty, “It’s time to move on.”

Boomer!

PS…It’s still not acceptable to send a wedding invitation for October.

1. Where I used to go for bottomless mimosas but now go for the yummy salad and assortment of NA beverages.