A-Day is a carefully orchestrated dichromatic waltz played smooth and slow, drawn out over several unsurprising hours. A-Day is sheet music. It’s following the rules because—because just because; that’s how’s it’s always been done. It’s tradition and manufactured advertised family. It’s new basketball coach introductions and Gene Chizik selling Bryan hot dogs.
The Old 280 Boogie is jazz, at least in concept. It’s free-form and flowing. Children twirl and gyrate to a rockabilly crooner with Elvis hair. Petite ladies wearing tie-dye shirts slither hula hoops around and around and around. Overalls and neon purple American Apparel shirts are paired. Pabst and moonshine. Cigars and old-man pipes. Small towns and hipsters.
It’s hard for me to imagine spending a more diametrical day in Alabama: from Southeastern conference football to a celebration of Southern eccentrics. I can’t say I love one more than the other. Or that one is inherently better or “cooler,” whatever you want that to mean. I love them both—stiff and slow-to-change football and look-at-us-aren’t-we-weird? festivals—but I don’t feel totally comfortable at either.
Maybe if the two were combined. If somehow Auburn could run into Jordan-Hare to the Fleet Foxes’ “Mykonos,” Cam Newton sporting an ironic mustache and Mario wearing a pink “Legalize Gay” shirt while playing the harmonica, I could be satisfied. Never going to happen, of course – Mario hates pink.
The two will forever remain separate, each side’s head swelling with smug superiority. And, people such as myself and Jeremy, who also attended both, get to write mini-essays both admonishing and praising the differences. That way I can pander to each crowd. A splish of athletics mixed with a splash of the esoteric.
A common criticism of Auburn is that it lacks diversity, in thought, dress and race. And that’s probably true, to an extent. To walk around Auburn is to see the same basic caricature again and again. And that’s bad. There should be something to shake these people (excuse the pompous term) from their safe and conformed lives. The sheep need to be attacked by wolves now and again.
But, at the same time, too much ain’t-we-neat, back-slapping from the “different” crowd does nothing. It’s a different verse of the same song. There is such a thing as conformity disguised as non-conformity.
I don’t really know whom I am writing to here. Maybe just to myself. Spending all day in the sun staring at girls in sundresses and skirts makes your mind think weird and circular thoughts. You’ve all probably figured this out already. At least part of this is me broadcasting my ability to watch and understand the subtleties of football while also being able to drink Miller High-Life, browse antique books, and enjoy alternative country with the “weirdos.” Impressed? (Ladies…)
Though my love of Auburn football is not where it was at 12 or 16 or even 19, it’s still present. Watching Terrell Zachary break three tackles and tightrope into the end zone was thrilling, even if it was a scrimmage, and even if it was against Auburn’s defense. I scream “Our receivers are awesome!” You scream “Our tackling is awful!”
I will be there next fall, screaming, cheering and jeering, my conscious mind telling me football doesn’t really matter while my body, rebelling against all higher thought, is racked by chills from the student sections’ rendition of “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
It’s a cliché at this point to mention, but football doesn’t “matter.” Neither does the dancing and the smoking and the drinking. Education and too much of the book learning lets you know that.
But they’re fun. And we need them.
So War Eagle and skiddilydoo.
Ben is a student at Auburn University. Most of his time is spent doing as little as possible, eating and controlling manageable vices. He will one day graduate with a degree in journalism and maybe find a job. Fingers crossed. Write to him at [email protected].
Auburn and everywhere else does need them. Thanks for the cool article.
I would say that it’s not that your love of AU football is less now, it’s just that other things (rightfully so) start taking higher priority. This maturing will keep you from standing in line at Wal Mart for 4 hours for a picture of a glass trophy. Great article.
“There is such a thing as conformity disguised as non-conformity.”
Been there, done that in my time on the Plains. I hung with the Polo crowd at Bodega and Bourbon Street many nights, and then many lazy afternoons at Webster’s or Earth Day festivals with the hippies, and also plenty of beer drinking with the Wire Road vet school straight country folks at the old Strutting Duck or Champs. So I totally get what you’re talking about. Anybody that tries to only paint themselves within one group in college (particularly in Auburn) is missing out on a hell of a lot fun. For the most part, the blending of the different folks seemed to go fairly smoothly 90% of the time. But then you had the folks that just liked to cause trouble and thought they were superior in some way to the “frat boys” or the “hippies” or the roper and wrangler boys. They just didn’t get it. They probably still don’t. Good people are good people regardless of what they wear or drive.
Chris Shelling Jr. says
For the record:
I am superior to every hippy.
well it is funny –
as i read all of these comments i am somewhat proud of what waverly has accomplished in putting the 280 boogie on for 10 years, but overtly astonished as to what onlookers perceive. as a member of the 280 boogie production staff, a waverly town council member and an auburn professor i am entrenched in the traditions and histories of both institutions. our goal with the boogie is to celebrate the bypass of the highway and the return of waverly’s hometown feel and idyllic country setting. waverly is diversity personified as its census records detail. And we are proud of our “weirdoes.” although if a snapshot of the ENTIRE crowd on waverly day was taken you would have noticed a relatively small percentage of “weirdoes” to “non-weirdoes.” Also attending the boogie other than “petite ladies wearing tie-die shirts,” “small town hipsters,” and “look-at-us-aren’t-we-weird? Festival” goers there were a large number of families with happy, well-raised children, groups of red blooded retirees, gaggles of kacki clad college students, and scores of plain old gainfully employed individuals, and many many many non-weirdoes (most of whom had left the A-day game at half time) who were attending the boogie for a great afternoon of wholesome entertainment free to everyone (75% of which do not fit the description of weirdo as prescribed “overalls and neon purple American apparel shirts,” pabst and moonshine,” cigars and old-man pipes”). now don’t get me wrong. there is neon and tie dye and long hair and all the “weird” you want at the boogie (me being one of them – but then neon is hot right now – i teach color theory in college thank you). our african american friends and neighbors also come out. And yes, if you can even imagine, our lesbian and gay friends were there too!!!! waverly likes everybody. and if are brave enough to come on over (before during or after any ball game) we will even like you. Kacky or no kacky