Meat On a Spit I Wish I Had But Instead I Was Working

A couple weeks ago on a Sunday morning I found myself bleary-eyed--and of all things working-- when I was interrupted by a strange sound coming from my portable cellular telephone. Apparently I received a text message (something I wasn't even sure my phone could do) from a lifelong friend who two years ago sent me my last text message with a picture, that one of a jar full or fried chicken skins. When I eventually opened this message, a picture even more spectacular than that of the jar-o-skins appeared:

With it the message: "Pastor in Bears parking lot." I fumbled around furiously with my keypad: "34443-0-99988666-0-3328-0-444811111". For those of you operating with phones in which you do not have to meticulously thumb through a numeric keypad (I also used a rotary phone until 1998), my message read: "Did you eat that?" The response was negative, but he did report that in addition to the best tailgating food a man could ever want was a stripper pole. And a DJ. That, if you are wondering, is hilarious.

While stripper poles and football are not everyone's cup of tea (I prefer foul poles and baseball), one has to respect (respect is not the right word) the dazzling, overboard display of fans like this. This was opening day at Soldier Field. How did Denver do? Anyone seen any Pastor spits yet? I might become a football fan yet.