College town weirdness

David and I just stood on our patio and lawn (at least, the small strips that aren't covered with cars) for about an hour. It was quite surreal. A dark night, with a bright moon, the Goodyear Blimp circling steadily overhead (see photo), two State Police helicopters zooming low over the house about every 5 minutes, people jumping out of airplanes with trails of fire and parachuting into the stadium, and 109,000 people yelling at the tops of their lungs exactly one block away. Not to mention that Main Street is closed to cars and there are police everywhere (tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of 9/11 and everyone is on edge, leading David to look up dirty bombs on the internet to see if we should try to outdrive one or just hunker down in the basement). The best part of football games, for us, is always during the game itself. I don't hold any grudges against the cars on our lawn, even if I often find the people driving them to be quite annoying. (The exception is a few of our season parkers who are great .) We had 4 spaces to sell today--the rest were pre-sold to our regulars--and are $210 richer tonight for it. How crazy is that? And to stress how insane football parking is, a car full of people left our lawn at halftime after paying $50 to park. Anyhow, during the game we can sit on our patio and pontificate about how weird life in a college town can be, with a soundtrack of 109,000 and helicopters and blimps and parachute-jumpers to back us up.