Guess where I'm going?

All this fall, I have been wondering whether I would have a normal Thanksgiving this year.

On Saturday, I learned the answer.

The answer is yes.

Yes, I will have a normal Thanksgiving--normal for me for the last four years, at least. Each of them has been spent down to Detroit, where I went to cover state high school football championship games, played Friday morning.

For the fifth straight year, I will be doing that again. On Saturday, our team won its semifinal game 8-6. It wasn't a big win by any means, but a win's a win, and our team will make the 500-mile trip to the state title game again. Alas, so will I.

I have resigned myself to my fate for some time, realizing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it one way or the other. Would it happen again? I won't have to go down there five straight years, would I?

What a dumb question: Of course I would.

So on Sunday I worked on the article about the semifinal game. Then I start looking at maps, reminding myself where things are located relative to each other, what exits to take off the interstate, how to get from one place to the other and how to get back. I also have to make motel reservations.

Mind you, I don't mind going to Detroit when I can do it on my own terms. Like last summer, when all three of us visited my older son for a few days. But now the weather isn't so good. It's colder, and maybe there will be snow (though this week's forecast sounds pretty good).

My wife made the trip with me last year, but she will stay home this time--her training for her seasonal call center job starts Wednesday. But my younger son still wants to come along. So you don't have to worry about me not being well chaperoned throughout my trip. The chances of me slipping the leash and getting out somewhere for some fun are less than zero.

Let me say it plainly.

It. Is. Not. Fun.

I. Don't. Want. To go. Certainly not for the fifth straight year.

Especially this year. I wanted to spend part of Thanksgiving with my mom, since she is continuing to fade away. Every single bloody Thanksgiving since she went into the nursing home, I wanted to spend part of Thanksgiving with her. It hasn't happened, and it won't happen this year. God just doesn't want it to happen, I guess.

Here is a picture from Thanksgiving dinner at my mom's house back in 2001. Nothing elaborate, but we had venison and gravy, brown-and-serve rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, apple pie (somewhat mashed) and (not pictured) pumpkin pie. We ate well ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/T-daydinner-11-01.jpg[/IMG]
(Of course, such a Thanksgiving isn't possible any more, because my mom has been in the nursing home since late 2005. Sigh.)

Another thing about driving to Detroit for a title game is that I don't control the clock. We leave for the 11-hour trip south Wednesday morning and arrive in the Detroit area long after sundown. On Thursday, it's Thanksgiving: Everything in the States is closed. Everything in Canada is open, and I'm hoping we can cross over to Windsor (Ontario) for a little shopping and a nice dinner. That means I have to find my birth certificate.

We'll spend all of Thanksgiving with my older son. On Friday morning, my younger son and I get up really early so we can get on the freeway for Ford Field and the football game, which kicks off at 9 a.m. Central Time. This year, our team is a massive underdog, and I'm realistic about such things.

After the game, I get back on the interstate and can spend the next 11 hours thinking about what I'm going to say in my article as I drive home. We'll get home about midnight. I've got to bust my ass home right away so I have time to write about it Saturday and Sunday. The paper gets put together Monday morning, and all my work has to be done by then. I can only imagine how my neck and lower back will feel once it's all over. Maybe this year I finally call that massage therapist after it's all over.

But stop the presses: Now it appears I may have another option:

I have learned (from the coach) that I may be able to ride south with the team in their bus--and it's not a school bus, either. Right now, I am weighing the pluses and minuses.

Among the pluses: Since my younger son stays home, he can keep my wife company on Thanksgiving. I don't have to drive for some 20+ hours, with all the wear and tear on the car (and the driver). In a real rarity, I would go somewhere and not have to do 100% of the driving. I could get used to that. Don't have to book a motel room. Someone else is in charge and gets to make all the decisions.

Minuses: I'm not in charge and don't get to make the decisions. No chance of a side trip to Canada--so keep my loonies at home. Probably won't see my older son. Disappointing for my younger son--he can't come along for once. Waiting around during several football practices. And I don't get paid the mileage money--and though we only get 30 cents per mile, it's still works out to a nice profit on a 1,100-mile round trip if your car gets 35 mpg.

So now that I have been thinking about it, I am leaning quite a lot towards riding the bus. Even though I found the birth certificate. That's OK--my wife and I have been talking about applying for the new passport cards, so we can visit Canada next summer.

I have another adventure to tell you about, but I'll post that in a day or two (assuming our motel has wireless internet).