Fellowship. Seeing old friends. Fish stories. Regular stories. Half stories (now, where was I?). Oh yea, bantering about football games from Tulane to Harvard to LSU to whichever team wins, as is the favorite for one fair weather SUMO. Good times. Who am I kidding?
It’s about food. No food, no stories, bantering, fellowship, etc. It didn’t take long to figure that out when temps dipped into the mid-20’s and the annual Fall SUMO gathering at Eagle Point had to move indoors. Nobody missed a beat. Why? Because we still got to eat. That, apparently is the heart of the matter. The gist of the fellowship.
Since it was the day before the Arkansas-LSU game, we decided to mix our story telling with the good food and have a “Tale Gate”. One of the biggest debates is when H gets a little carried away with his support of LSU and we win, at which time some SUMOs chime in, “It’s just a game.” Bah, Sumobug! It was pretty well unanimous that Arkansas would win this year, and we were right. But on the food. The menu was quite scrumptious (menu below). One member, there’s really no reason to single h out here, started telling these long jokes. After a couple of them, and realizing that he really needed to stop for a breath, we just started laughing and slapping our knees after the first sentence. That way he didn’t have to worry about remembering the whole thing and we didn’t have to listen to it ….again.
Our group is a bit odd, and I don’t mean that because there are SEVEN of us, and Hi Ho, there are no dwarfs among us. We are all true SUMOs.
To protect the guilty, we just go by initials of sort. We even have our own SUMO preacher (that’s p) to bless the food, but I did notice that while we all had our heads bowed, he somehow worked his way up to the front of the line. And he isn’t even Baptist! Dr. C drove in from his Texas day job to deer hunt near his home in Arkansas and found his way here. Dub comes from Arkansas. He still “works” for some brothers named after a soft drink company that actually make paper and he usually brings Dr. Pepper 10. The rest of us (Big H, little h, KB, TC and p) all live a little bit closer, but we’re scattered. Everybody has a job for these official gatherings. Dr. C keeps up with honors and awards. KB keeps up with the paperwork and brings pounds of Slayden’s potato salad. TC grows food for coach Miles. And h brings the best nana puddin’ around. The key word is “brings”, not makes. I understand he isn’t even allowed to peel the nanners. H catches the fish, buys the fish bait, cooks, cleans up the mess and handles public relations issues the group leaves in its wake. And in this case, burns some candles down to the nub to kill the “inside fish fry” smell…
SUMOfest 2014 went pretty much within incident. It was too cold. The whole day was wonderful, even though I knew some member would try and practical joke me. Fortunately, I have a guardian neighbor who watches out for the place when a “code yellow” situation exists. The surveillance caught a SUMO culprit placing an obscene bumper sticker on the front of my truck. I won’t go into details, but it was crimson and had some big elephant head on it. It was promptly removed and placed in its rightful place in the trash. The END.
If you want to hear more about previous SUMO gatherings and even see a flattering (almost left the l out of that word…) photo, just put “SUMO” in the search box on this page and catch up.