Roll Tide, War Eagle, and the Great Fairhope Hat Confusion

Let me just get this out of the way up front: I am a fairweather fan, and I regret nothing.

 

I know, I know. Where I come from, that's practically a punishable offense. In Pennsylvania, loyalty to a team is a birthright, passed down like grandma's china and just as fragile if you drop it. You pick your team in the cradle, and you stick with them through fifty-loss seasons, bad quarterbacks, and owners who clearly hate joy. That's just how it's done.

 

Except I never got that memo. I loved the Eagles right up until Andy Reid left, and then — plot twist — I decided I loved the Chiefs instead, because apparently my loyalty follows coaches, not cities. Then Kansas City started winning every single year, and something in me rebelled. I don't want a team that wins all the time. Where's the fun in that? Give me an underdog. Give me heartbreak I can recover from by Tuesday.

 

So last year, fed up with how political the NFL had gotten — I just want to watch a game, not sit through a lecture — I switched my allegiance to college football. Specifically, the SEC. I started with the Tennessee Volunteers, because, duh, I love Country Music. It seemed fitting.

 

Then I took my Southern road trip this summer.

 

Somewhere between falling in love with Charleston and falling in love with Beaufort, I started daydreaming about a lottery-winning future where I split my time between the two. And then I landed in Fairhope, Alabama, and promptly fell in love all over again, because apparently my heart has no loyalty there either.

 

Naturally, that meant I needed a new team. South Carolina Gamecocks? Alabama Crimson Tide? I didn't even know if the Gamecocks were SEC (they are — I looked it up). But "Roll Tide" is just so much easier to shout than anything Gamecock-related, so Alabama it was.

 

I wandered into the cutest little boutique in Fairhope, the Cat’s Meow,  and found two ballcaps: a red one with a big letter A, and a blue one with the same letter A. Obviously — obviously — these were both Alabama hats. Red, blue, who's counting? I grabbed the blue one, and declared loudly to everyone that I was officially Team Roll Tide!

 

The sweetest, most helpful employee panicked. She looked at my hat. Then she looked at me. Then she asked, very carefully, if I was from Tuscaloosa.

 "No," I said, “I’m from Pennsylvania!"

 “Oh, NO. No…that is not an Alabama hat, honey, that is an Auburn hat!”

She kindly steered me toward the red hat, the actual Roll Tide hat, and saved me from a lifetime of confusing strangers and possibly a stint on Alabama’s most wanted list, as this particular mistake is basically a felony in these parts.

 I told my husband the story later, fully delighted with myself. He said I should be embarrassed.

 I said — why? This is a great story. This is peak me. A Pennsylvania girl, several states from home, accidentally pledging herself to both sides of the Iron Bowl in the same sixty seconds, laughing about it with a stranger in a boutique. That's not embarrassing. That's Southern charm doing exactly what it does best — turning a tourist's mistake into a memory worth keeping.

 So here I am, red hat on, hollering Roll Tide with total confidence now. Underdog status pending. Loyalty subject to change without notice.

That's just my nature.

And y’all know what’s coming next…

Roll Tide!

 

Chasing Southern Charm: Day One of Birdie's Southern Book Tour!

 Guys! I did it! I’m currently at my first stop on “Birdie’s Southern Book Tour” (this name may change. If you have any ideas, please email me!” 

I left Bucks County Pa, to start my Southern Spirit (Southern Soul? Southern Romance (like, I’m in love with the Southern culture – I think I’m in love with the culture – the slower way of life, the manners, the food, the stories. But maybe, once I’ve been immersed in it, maybe I will find I fell under the influence of books like “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil” and “South of Broad.” And Michael Lee West (wherever you are, I hope you are ok).)

But I feel like I’m going to love it. 

As soon as I left Pennsylvania, the traffic thinned out. There were a few stretches of road where I was the only car! As someone that loathes traffic (I mean, we all do, right?) this was thrilling. Some people might be thrilled going to a Morgan Wallen concert; I’m thrilled when all drivers keep at least three car lengths away from each other!

I almost backed out. Four a.m. this morning, I woke up, the house was still. It was that time of morning when all inside and all outside the house are quiet. It was the hour where questions of sanity push all confidence aside. The mean girl voice: WHAT IF YOU DIE. WHAT IF YOU GET KIDNAPPED? WHAT IF YOU GET LOST AND CANT FIND YOUR WAY BACK. 

I texted my daughter who was working. She texted back: You’re going. And that’s that!

And so I said, “Yes, that’s that. I’m going.” 

Also, I spent two days packing, unpacking (Chanel’s advice – but traveling wise: pack what you think you’ll need, then, subtract a few things.) and the thought of unpacking it all, trying to reschedule this bucket list/life is short/book tour was more dreadful then heading into the bad weather that the radar was taunting me with. 

I’m here in Harrisonburg. It’s just a quick stop. So no bookstores today. 

But I did stop at a Hardees in Virgina! I grew up with Hardees, and there hasn’t been one in our area for at least 15 years. 

I started out around 7:45 – hit some rain, some fog, some traffic, and then the sky turned blue and I had the windows down because the air just feels…more energetic, more…pure? 

As soon as I arrived at the cutest Airbnb- a big clap of thunder shook the sky. 

Which reminds me, the trip started off on a rocky note. My cooler tipped over and leaked all over everything. I had to pull off the road and ended up throwing the whole thing out because the water had collected in the fabric holder of the cooler. Note to self: only hard coolers while traveling! 

The second incident: I got off an exit for gas. Only, the exit I got off at was under construction and I went at least 8 miles in a slow moving narrow cattle shoot. I will admit to not being a Southern Lady at all with the foul language that was captured on my car camera. (Which has since been erased!). 

All the streets were closed off, and Google kept saying “rerouting” “rerouting” “rerouting” and then Apple wanted me to keep driving for 21 miles (21 miles! Are you HIGH right now Apple?)

So, I used common sense (which I doubt all the time when it comes to travel because my sense of direction is like a five year old chasing fireflies) and made the first left I could, then I reckoned I should stop for gas since it was right there, and the kind gray haired man with the racing t-shirt told me how to get back to 81 South. And then, he did the sweetest thing, he waited for me to top of my car, and I followed him out. When the split came to get onto 81 South, he stuck his arm out the window and pointed to the right, to make sure I found my way. I really appreciated this. And, this is exactly what I mean about the South and manners and a kinder way of life!

Anyway, I’m going to be stopping into bookstores and libraries along the way, as well as doing some touristy things! 

Day 1 is in the books. 

See you tomorrow!