Tailgating

Tomorrow marks Week 4 of my 16th season as a New England Patriots season ticket holder. By my very rough calculations - using a bean bag, silly putty and an abacus - I have attended approximately 130 or so games.

Being a season ticket holder to an NFL team is a pretty neat experience. Unlike folks who watch the games on TV, season ticket holders have a unique and close relationship with their team. After all, we don't just invest money for tickets, we invest time to attend the games and energy to cheer. For those who tailgate, the time and monetary commitment are even higher. Although I root for all of the Boston teams, the Patriots will always remain my priority because I am not just a fan, I am a participant in the experience. Boston will always be considered a Red Sox town, but I would suspect that many of the 68,000 fans who attend the Pats' games share my perspective.

My dad, who procured the tickets back in 1994 and went to the games until 2000, was not exactly the tailgate type. However, since he retired to The Place Where People Go to Die, Florida (zip code: 25, which is also the average driving speed on the highways), I take every opportunity to tailgate.

Why? Because going to a football game without tailgating is like being a vegetarian. Sure, you could do it, but why on earth would you want to? And if you are a vegetarian who tailgates, then please stop reading this and just go away. And take your tofu burgers. You disgust me.

While there are some obvious benefits to tailgating - such as bonding with pals while drinking beer and eating grilled meat - I have come to appreciate the hidden benefits. For instance, being outside in December for approximately 7.5 hours builds character, stamina and endurance. For the record, I am talking to you, Sox fans, who bitch and moan that it is "only" 55 degrees at the game in late September. Wimps. Try sitting - not moving around or exercising - but just sitting, in temps of 10-20 degrees all day. It does a body good. And keeps the outdoor sports stores in business.

Tailgating makes going to the game an all-day experience. For a 1 p.m. kickoff, I am usually out the door at 8 a.m. and pulling into the lot by 9. Eating and drinking quickly commences - usually about 5,000 calories worth - and lasts until around noon, when we pack up and head to the seats. On an average day, we are back in the car by 4:45 and I pull into my driveway by 6 p.m.

If you think tailgating is expensive, you would be mistaken. A decent beer inside the stadium is $10 (this is not a typo), hot dogs are $6 and popcorn is $5. So, if I had 3 beers, a dog and bag of popcorn, I'd spend $41. Most of my pre-game activities average about $50 or so, which buys a 12-pack of beer, a bunch of snacks, an "entree"," sides and a dessert...for two people.

So there you have it. As a Jew, I can't afford not to tailgate. Think of all the money I'd be wasting.

As much fun as tailgating is, the highlight of the day is always the actual game. To me, the worse the weather gets, the more I enjoy the game. I come across lots of folks who would much rather watch football on TV then in person. That is too bad. Watching at home or in a bar is warmer and more convenient (food, bathroom, etc.), but nothing beats being at the stadium.

Not only do I see many components of the game that don't show up on TV, but the energy of 68,000 lunatics, which can simultaneously boost the Pats and stress their opponent, is contagious. On opening night, when the Pats came back to beat the Bills, I can say with absolute certainty that my experience was twice as intense and emotionally fulfilling as someone who was watching from their couch.

Come 9 a.m. tomorrow, the ritual continues. I'll be sitting in my camping chair with a beer in hand, getting ready to fire up the grill. There will be meat in the cooler, snacks on the table and the smell of smoke wafting throughout the lot. And there will be no place I would rather be.

Except Vegas.

Booze

I discovered the pleasing and nutritional effects of alcohol at a fairly old age - 18 (shhhh...don't tell my dad, he might try a retroactive citizens arrest. Or a real arrest. Not sure if he still has that authority).

While I consumed a drink or two back in the day, the first time I experienced intoxication was in January 1993 - it was the first night back at school following Christmas break. I was a freshman about to start my 2nd collegiate semester. Yes, you read correctly - I spent the first three months of my adult life at one of the country's biggest party schools, and did not once get drunk. In fact, now that I am staring at these words, I feel so pathetic that I can't even come up with a snappy one liner.

Anyway, I somehow ended up at a random gathering in another dorm. And somehow I ended up consuming 13 Busch Lights. The fact that it is possible for a person who has never before gotten drunk to consume 13 Busch Lights ought to tell you a little something about the potency of Busch Light, but I digress. At the end of the night, I somehow stumbled back to my room, although if you have ever seen someone spin their body around the end of a baseball bat and then race down a field, you can get a fair idea of what I mean by "stumbled." Amazingly, I somehow did not get sick.

But I did spend the next 5 days hungover.

I'm not kidding. The party was on Sunday night and I was supremely hung (oh yes, a double entendre) until lunchtime on Friday. I may have consumed a total of 600 calories that entire week, which proves two things. First, I am not a smart man. Second, there may be money to be made by designing a weight loss regimen around really bad beer.

Like most everyone, I have done some pretty dumb things as a result of alcohol, many of which can be found here. Now that I am a responsible adult - albeit one with very few actual adult responsibilities (praise Jesus!) - it is extremely rare for me to drink enough to fully inebriate myself because the negative sensations associated with hangovers far outweigh the positive feelings associated with getting drunk. This is mostly because I have the pain tolerance of France. It just isn't worth it.

Today, I actually imbibe more than ever before, but at a reduced volume. There is something about coming home after a long day, having a drink and relaxing. One drink. Good enough for me.

Interestingly, while most people enjoy a wide variety of cocktails, for me it is either beer, wine or whiskey. Maybe it is because I have always been somewhat hesitant to try new things. Or maybe it's because I don't feel like taking out a loan to afford the gimme-all-your-moneytini at the lounge-of-the-month. I am a bit curious, however. Do other people have as limited a palate for drinks as I do? Or is it common to have a few favorites and stick with what you know?

Fun fact: During my fairly frequent trips to the Holy Land, my alcohol consumption is nill. Why you ask? How could I possible resist free booze, which is readily available in a variety of forms at a casino? Easy.

First, the booze isn't free - you have to be gambling in order to get it, and given that the majority of people play games where the odds favor the house, that "free" drink can actually cost you a few hundred dollars.

Second, as much as I love Sin City as a vacation destination, my time there is a business trip. I am there to make money and remaining sober - thus increasing the small chance that I actually play smartly - is typically more successful than getting plastered. Go figure.

And while you may be tempted to have me examined by a mental health professional for not drinking when in Vegas, just remember: you can't fight genetics.

Got Food?

(WARNING: audience participation requested)

I'm a bit of a couch potato. Always have been and probably always will be, although I don't feel as guilty now that I actually exercise. It's not that I don't like to get out and about, but for me, relaxation is plopping down on the sectional, feet propped up on the ottoman, watching the high-def big screen...ideally with a beer or cocktail (and pizza) in hand.

Although Jenn and I have about 391 channels at our disposal, one channel reigns supreme.

Wait for it....

Wait for it....

Yep, the Food Network...and if you didn't get the foreshadowing, then you obviously don't watch this:



Food Network probably makes up close to 50% of our TV viewing, which is curious for a couple of reasons. First, because I typically handle the remote, meaning that I'm not watching under duress from Jenn. And before you start thinking about how much of a control freak I am, here's how it works in Casa de Jesus: I handle the remote when I am home and Jenn handles it when I am not home. Considering that I can either be home or not home, this means that we each handle the remote 50% of the time. So there.

Secondly, I probably wouldn't eat 75% of the food that gets made on the various shows. I have a rather limited palate and classify myself as a "meat and potatoes...and Italian and Quiznos" kind of guy. I don't like seafood, many vegetables, lamb, some pork, most anything considered fusion, and Democrats. However, I enjoy watching the best of the best at work. Plus, in HD pretty much anything, even frogs legs looks delicious.

(Note: I am pretty sure Jenn is hotter for Giada than I am, so I feel no guilt linking to her photo.)

Sometimes, when watching Rachel Ray make a 17-course dinner in under 30 minutes, I'll think of the hypothetical "what would I have if I had only one meal left on earth?" question. Even being the picky eater that I am, it's a tough choice:

A visit to the middle of nowhere for outstanding ribs? Stay local for the best veal saltimbocca that money can buy? A trip to Antonio's for ridiculously yummy pizza? Or, the best comfort food of all time?

If you know me at all, then you know the answer is none of the above. If I had one meal left on earth, it would be a hunk of manly beef (stop snickering Stacey). Specifically, the Del Frisco's Double Eagle - a 26 ounce, bone-in strip steak that is as close to heaven as I am ever going to come (Jenn putting in a good word will not help). Add a serving of mac and cheese, and I will go a happy man.

And now it's your turn. If you had one meal left, what would it be? I would ask everyone who reads this to leave a comment. There is no wrong answer...if you would choose to have a can of chunky soup, well then, fine. You're a bit odd, but then again, you're not the one whose last meal would cost $150. Feel free to mix and match: i.e., a Big Mac and pepperoni pizza.

I'm asking for comments for two reasons. First, it's a fun topic and will be interesting to see the diversity in people's tastes. Secondly, it will help me start to get an idea of how many suckers, um, I mean friends, actually waste their time reading this blog.

It's easy to leave a comment. Simply click on the "comment" hyperlink at the top of this post and type up an answer in the text box. If you don't have a Blogger account, select the "name/URL" option and type in your first name...for URL, just type a period or dash.

Look forward to reading the responses. As for me, I am off to find my favorite candy bar.