I recently attended the University of Maryland’s Homecoming football game against Iowa. It was a beautiful fall day with all the pageantry of college football – marching bands, cheering fans, cigar smoke and perfume in the air. I went to the game with my brother and a friend who I’ve known all my life who is a Maryland grad.
We showed up well before the game started and made our way to a designated tailgate area where several of our childhood friends were having a tailgating party. There were the pretty girls from my high school days that I had wanted to date back then but never could and the guys who were my high school football teammates. Most of these people were Maryland grads as well.
With music from our youth blasting (think the Rolling Stones and Bruce Springsteen), we all caught up on the many events that had occurred in our lives since we were growing up together in Four Corners. The conversations centered on family, our parents, brothers, sisters and our own kids. I loved the fact that we had known each other for so long that there were no pretensions or fronts needed. There was no “keeping up with the Joneses” bragging about how much better your kid is than mine – just real talk about life. The ups and downs, the battles won and lost and our hopes and fears about tomorrow.
It seemed like almost everyone’s kids were college graduates and – more importantly – had turned out to be great people. But we spoke honestly about our kids. One guy who is a successful, well-known executive said of his oldest son, “He graduated from college with excellent grades and got a good job. He is a great kid who sometimes turns into an idiot and does stupid things.” We all laughed and joked, “Like father like son!” He laughed at that as well. But it was all in fun, because we all know that all of our own kids do stupid things sometimes, too.
The more I listened to these life stories the more it hit me how strongly our shared childhood had connected us. We all grew up in blue-collar neighborhoods in big, working-class, Irish-Catholic families. We attended the same Montgomery County public schools, and many of us went on to attend the University of Maryland or (like me) other relatively close-by universities like Virginia Tech. Sitting there with these people, soaking it all in I realized that I was home with these people, and what a great home it is. I’m a Marylander through and through and I grew up here during a great time with great people. The next time I sing “Maryland, My Maryland” at a UMD football game, I will sing it a little louder and a little prouder.
“You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood … back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame … back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”
Thomas Wolfe (not the one who wrote the excellent Bonfire of the Vanities) wrote the above quote in his novel You Can’t Go Home Again. Since its publication in 1940, the phrase “you can’t go home again” has become a part of American pop culture, commonly used when someone tries to reclaim or relive their youth. But I disagree that you can’t go home again. You can’t relive the past again; that’s certainly true. But I believe you can go home and, every once in awhile, you might just look around you and realize that you’re already there.
Have a great weekend,
Ro
I would like to thank the wonderful folks from Coakley & Williams for providing the tickets and a truly excellent tailgateing experience. I really appreciated the opportunity to watch the Terps cruise to victory with you all! Please – no offense to all of my Hokie brothers and sisters. I’m still a Hokie at heart, but Maryland is my home!