Three o’clock, wide-awake. There was a bit of work unfolded next to the computer and it nagged at me in the darkness. I gave up and padded out to the balcony to see if it was still raining. I found myself in the cloud- the rain faint, the night air impenetrable and completely saturated.

I peered into the gloom, and sleep banished, punched on the computer and wrote a paper about the Joint Requirements Oversight Council.

Yeah, it was that bad. Though bad as it was, it sufficed to take my mind off the three issues of the day. That damned anniversary is coming up, will the game be rained out tonight at Nationals Park, and what is the President going to propose to jump start the economy before the Packer’s Game Thursday night?

I know, it is a lot easier to not take this seriously here in Washington. Reality lies somewhere west of the Beltway, I’m afraid. Word at Willow from John-with-an-H is that there is another trillion floating around.
He said the package would be made up by extending the temporary reduction in the payroll tax, among others, and pumping federal dollars into road-building and other basic infrastructure projects. “It is a throw-back,” he said with scorn. “They will play to the teachers, too, like he did in Detroit with Jimmy Hoffa when the Teamsters declared War.”

“Yike,” I said. “That is a little intemperate, isn’t it?”

“Not as intemperate as those uniforms the Terps wore on Monday night,” he responded with hint of wounded indignity.

“There wasn’t much talk about the uniforms at the game. Maybe we were too far away to actually see them.”

“They look like that black-and-white guy on the original Star Trek series- you know- the mirror image guy. I heard on the news that there are 30 different color combinations, and that the Terp Captains get to make the call on what they wear on game day,” he said in wonder.

“I am OK with the flag of the Calverts- it is the most unique flag in the Union.”

“No question.” I said. “I think it is a cool banner. Goes right back to Colonial times.”

“Not everyone agrees with you about the uniforms, but I thought that, too, but it is not true,” said John-with. “The symbol of the Free State is actually relatively new.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, taking a sip of Happy Hour white from the tulip glass that Tink had just topped up. “The Free State refers to the Mason-Dixon line, right? Free to the north of it, slave to the South?”

“No. Vic, you should learn your history better. The Free State nick-name dates back to Prohibition. In 1923, Georgia Congressman William D. Upshaw denounced Maryland as a traitor to the Union for refusing to pass a State enforcement act against booze. The Baltimore Sun ran an editorial sayng they should secede and establish “The Maryland Free State.”

“Well I’ll be,” I said. “I have always supported those sorts of States Rights.”

“The flag is new, too. The current flag first was flown in 1880 at a parade marking the 150th anniversary of the founding of Baltimore. It also was flown October 25, 1888, at Gettysburg Battlefield for ceremonies dedicating monuments to Maryland regiments of the Army of the Potomac. Officially, it was not adopted as the State flag of The Free State until 1904.”

“Yeah, but and not applied to football jerseys and helmet until this year. But the sybols are old.”

“Oh, indeed they are,” said Old Jim, gesturing at Liz-S for another long-neck Budweiser. “The symbols are the coat of arms of the Calvert and Crossland families. “Calvert” is the family name of the Lords Baltimore who founded Maryland.”

“Yeah, and the whiskey,” I said. “Good stuff.”

Jim ignored me. “The Calvert colors- the jagged gold and black- appear in the first and fourth quarters of the flag. Crossland was the family of the mother of the first Lord Baltimore, George. Their arms featured red cross bottony quartered.” He put down his empty beer firmly with a ‘thunk’ on the solid mahogany.

“Cross Bottony?” I said. “What the hell is that?”

John-with looked smug. “”The term “Bottony” in heraldry refers to a symbol having a bud or button on the end. In the case of the Crossland arms, it is a kind of trefoil at the end of the cross, furnished with knobs, or buttons.”

“Cross buttony,” I said. “I’ll be damned.”

“You probably will,” growled Jim. “And you have seen nothing until you get a look at the bogus throw-back jerseys your Wolverines are going to wear when they play under the lights at the Big House for the first time this weekend.”

“Oh, crap. That’s right. I nearly forgot.”

“What is the Big House?” asked Liz-S.

“Michigan Stadium,” I said with a note of pride. “The largest stadium in the United States.”

“Oh bullshit,” said John-with. “My Trojans play in the largest stadium- the LA Coliseum. They had a crowd of 115,000 at a Red Sox exhibition game a couple years ago, and a Billy Graham crusade drew 130,000.”

“That is where you are wrong,” I said. “That was with people on the football field. The Big House holds the record for a football game. Last year against U-Conn we had 113,090 paid attendance, the largest crown ever to see an NCAA football game.”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “But the throwback Jersies are still as ugly as those Maryland outfits. And besides, they never wore anything like that, so what are they throwing back to?”

I had to bite my tongue and have another sip of wine. One of the throwback jerseys is already hanging in my closet.

Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com