Hullabaloo, Caneck, Caneck

If you're an Ag, you'll totally get this post. If not, well, I hope I can convey at least a fraction of Saturday.

Mom (aka "Grandma" to the critters (yes, she even has a shirt that says "Ask about my GrandDog." She adores my dog? She uses them as the substitute because I've not given her human grandchildren? A little of both. And that's just fine.) So anyway---Mom and I were up early Saturday to head to College Station---after a stop at Starbucks, of course. (being from such a small town, though, means the nearest Starbucks is twenty miles away! Yowza!) We were headed over for what's called "Final Review." It's the day when all the outfits of that Corps pass in front of the officers essentially checking 'em all out---making sure the commanders are doing as they should and that the outfits are looking alright. And it's the last thing on campus at A&M in the spring. Graduation's over. Most folks have moved out of dorms. It's indeed the final thing of the academic year. (well, except Boot Dance---more on that later.)

Venti (iced---it's a hot one today) nonfat latte, and we're back on the road.

During that drive, though, I realized how much nostalgia was involved with that trip. Not just seeing family I hadn't seen in a while, but visiting the ol' hometown, recalling college days, and . . . .

Driving past what once was a Pizza Hut---it's now a Mexican restaurant, but still in the Pizza Hut-shaped building, and yes, that looks quite odd---where I had my first date. Seeing a house of an old boyfriend on the drive . . . later, after seeing a few young men sitting on that same counter where he'd been sitting when we met, recalling meeting another college boyfriend, Mike, . . . (funny story--I wound up dating about three guys in a row who were all named Mike. My brother called me one day and said, "Hey, it's Mike." He wanted me to have to say, "Mike who?" But ha! I knew his voice. :-) Man, caller-ID has spoiled a lot of big-brother jokes, eh? ;-) . . .

Okay---enough of that nostalgia. Back to Saturday.

What a day! The drive is gorgeous. Mom's in the eastern half of Texas very near Huntsville, so the tall pine trees rise like cliffs on each side of the road. Getting closer to College Station, the hills really start rolling. Everything was so green, dotted with patches of yellow black-eyed susans and purple vetch.

Upon arriving in College Station, though, the memory floodgates open, and it's not hard to think back to eighteen years ago when I lived there. (wow---to put in writing that it's been eighteen years since I graduated. Hello, reality. Nice to meet you.) Harvey Road. Post Oak Mall. Texas Avenue---all the same. Granted, the restaurant where I worked has changed names. But so much is just the same.

We made it to the "Quad" (the area where the Corps (that's the Corps of Cadets) dorms are--- the quadrangle) and found Judd's dorm (Judd's my nephew---the oldest of that generation & my older brother's older child). As of that time, around noon, he was still classified as a junior. And in the Corps, it's all about what class you're in. Shortly thereafter, we found Judd!

I'd been to Final Review for my younger brother---his third and fourth years in the Corps. But I hadn't seen the stuff in the hall. Umm Hmmm. That's a whole other side. The upper classmen call out the "fish" (freshmen) and have quite a time. Judd calls it "good bull." Okay. Being there for that was something. Then they all run out to line up in formation, getting ready for the first "Step off."

We followed along---and Judd found us, dutifully stopping to pose with Grandma as I took a few pics. And we went to the designated area of the quad for his outfit---Squadron 23. As we snapped more photos and watched Judd, along with other juniors, um, well, explain to the Fish what was wrong with their appearance, their expression, etc., BOOM.


Ahhhh---the Aggie cannon. what a sound. And it rocks you to the core. In a good way.

Then...the sound that stops every Aggie I know:

da ta ta ta da daaahhh da ta tah ta ta ta da ta ta daahh. [Whoop!]
and a little higher pitch...
da ta ta ta da daaahhh da ta tah ta ta ta da ta ta daahh.
and you sing in your heart...
Hullabaloo Canek, Canek. Hullabaloo Canek, Canek.

Indeed. It's the band. The Fightin' Texas Aggie Band. And it's the War Hymn. (Umm Hmmm---other schools have fight songs; we have a War Hymn.)

I hear that band start playing the Aggie War Hymn, and talk about nostalgia. I showed Mom my arm---it was a hot day, and we were standing in the sun, but all the hairs on my arm were standing at attention onceI heard that intro. Man, that band. That sound. It's the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band, people! Whoop! There's nothing else like that sound.

I soak that all in then turn my attention back to the man of honor for my day---my nephew. his outfit, the final one to step off, finally heads out.

Mom and I walked over to the area to see them march past, snapping, of course, even more photos. Along the way, though, we noted my stellar parking job.


The Corps marches on, over to Reed Arena for commissioning of the officers, and Mom and I decide to take this time to shop. Okay, actually, she indulged my desire to do so. Moving out of state, Aggie gear might not be so easy to find. So today was my day to stock up.

And stock up I did! I am now wonderfully armed with a long-sleeved shirt, two short-sleeved shirts, and other goodies to keep my Aggie spirit lively. I found the cutest wooden cutout (about 3 x 1 x 8 inches) of the Dixie Chicken building---perfect item for any and all of my future offices. And then we stopped at the music section. I made the mistake (had the fortune?) of picking up a four-disc CD set: all the Dixie Chicken classis songs. From Luckenbach to You Never Even Call Me By My Name to Redneck Mother to yes, Goodnight Irene. I have road trips coming up. I'm leaving Texas. I had to have it. And yes, I got it. (along with a CD of the Aggie band, but of course!)

Shopping done, and now it's time for Grandma to finally meet Northgate. And first stop has to be, but of course, the Dixie Chicken---the place where I spent way too many a late night while in college, the place where I drank my first beer legally in College Station (the day I graduated college, I was only twenty-years-old (yes, twenty: I've always been a bit of a nerd---but a fun one), and Dad bought me a beer that day, making it legal), and the place where I try to visit each time through town.

Lunch. A beer at the Chicken. But of course, we had to also have one just down the road at Duddley's, and finally, a walk through bottle-cap alley. Indeed: Grandma has seen Northgate.

We drove around a little after that---finding Dexter Rd first, where Melissa and Allen lived (Melissa, my best friend whom I met in college, has two dogs now---Dixie and Dexter. See a pattern here?) and snapping a pic of the duplex that's still there, and to me, still looks the same. Then we drove past my place, continuing down this journey on memory lane. And eventually, it was time to head back to the quad.

Finally. There he is. My nephew---a SENIOR in the Corps! And how handsome he looks!



















Lots of photos, meeting some of Judd's girlfriend's family, and my opportunity to get over to the main area in time to watch the band step-off. And hear---no, feel---that special sound.

Next, we head over to Kyle Field. (Final Review used to be held on the drill field, but it's been moved---fortunately because today we got some shade.) The outifts are taken through a few drills of commands and such, the band plays, they all march past us, and that's it.

Well, not really. See, at A&M, this is unique. Most military institutions hold one "pass" of the cadets marching past the folks who review 'em. But we hold "first pass" of all the cadets in the Corps that year marching then we---and this is what's different---hold a "second pass." And thus, for Judd now, it's the very start of a new academic year; he's officially a senior in the Corps. And he's in senior boots.

Judd is my only nephew, and a special man he is too. He was scholastic officer of his outfit this last year, and in the coming academic year, he'll be the Executive Officer of his outfit. I'm very proud of him and the man he's become. What's he going to do after this coming year? I'm not sure. I just hope for him that he'll find the path that will make him happiest. Sure, money's nice, but you gotta be happy at what you do too. It took me a long time to figure out that I had to find my own path---not that of a parent, a teacher, or anyone else. I hope he finds his path too. It doesn't matter what that path is, but I do hope it's the one that he wants.

And yes----it was indeed a fabulous day. But it wasn't over quite yet---there's still dinner! We enjoyed some icy margaritas and good ol' Tex-Mex (I'm soooo going to miss good Tex-Mex!) at Los Cucos (ironically, the same place another half of my family and I had dinner at the night before my younger brother graduated from A&M). And then, it was indeed time to call it a day. And what a good one it was.

Good Night Irene.