Saturday, January 13, 2007

Twelfth Man


We here in the Pacific Northwest pride ourselves on our laid-back attitude. Just don't get in the way of our coffee fix and you're pretty much fine with a native. Having lived in Texas, where I found the fabled Southern niceness to be about as thick as the ozone layer after all the oil refinery fumes get done doing their evil work, I must say that I find the general politeness and genuine all-around helpful spirit of the Northwest refreshing and homey. (Though people in a certain Eastern Washington city, we'll call it "Mokane", could use their turn signals a bit more often, and learn to let other cars merge onto the freeway. For future reference.)

But don't forget, peoples of the less north-and-western-y parts of the country, that beneath our latte-drinking, orca-watching, kayak-paddling, Birkenstock-wearing, Nordstrom-shopping, airplane-building exteriors lurk the hearts of SuperFans.

Qwest Field is the loudest stadium in the NFL. And tomorrow morning, fueled by the pound of Guatemalan beans my hubby just bought from our local Starbucks, our downstairs will be the loudest TV room in the neighborhood.

Here's hoping I finish Alligator Foot #2 in time to coordinate it with my Hawks shirt...and my Birks.

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