Airing Out The Bacon-A Unbelievable Fiction Account

Somewhere in the bitter cold darkness new year tidings introduced themselves, declaring good cheer challenging a young man, wearing Rural A&M University sweatshirt merchandise, pondering his existence. Expecting a glowing sunrise, Harry Theodore Jr.’s long neck bottle beverage provided thirsty relief when the college student finished off the contents.

Behind him a few feet, the wooden door needing handyman attention slowly revealed, “you are home really late,” acknowledged a parental voice.

“Happy New Year, Mother,” the athletically built junior responded back.

“Morning chores are the days priority no matter what the calendar states,” hearing the quote reminded the ambitious growing adult, about life’s realities.

“I guess you’re right, I will dispense of this pop bottle,” Harry Theodore Jr, took a swig, “and make sure important things are dealt with,”

“We need the bacon,” the Mother’s honesty pleaded.

Throughout the years, Gladys Theodore watched her son play a game a hundred yards in length. Running up and down the grassy stage, wearing overbearing protective equipment, trying to score points by obtaining field goals and touchdowns.

Her offspring confirmed football credibility, proved when the local state resident higher education campus offered a scholarship, encouraging him to contribute his mind, body, being a Rural A&M Roadie. “For his entire life he sweated and getting used to the smell only made him stronger knowing his destination was spending the whole day at the barn,” Gladys contemplated.

As for her husband the late Harry Theodore the original, he was a real dedicated committed man until the day when loved ones placed his casket underneath the earth only a few steps from where the cows loitered around chewing pasture green turf, naturally mowing the family-owned landscape.

Lunch break hour struck, announcing the first day maturing process spiraling down, welcoming the evening, “Mom, been throwing around the smoldering melted cheese pig skin, it seems we have enough sour cream to impress the market executives.”

“You mean those who lost their way, ironing, pressing tie required dress shirts, while occupying air-conditioned offices.”

“Oh Mother,”

“Well Harry Jr. do you see what is on television today, well-manicured flowers all garden to perfection for what? I ask. “

“To look pretty on a float, Mother,” Harry Jr. answered, defending his academic decision priorities.

“Why isn’t Rural AM playing in these holiday bowl games? Don’t you have any motivation?”

“We only won one game last year,”

“Why is that?”

“Mother,” Harry Theodore, Jr. struck back quickly, “we are more concerned about other things?”

“Like what?”

“Serving up better bacon.”

Over the next few months, while reading the campus student newspaper, picked up during a midnight walk back from the library, Harry Theodore, Jr found out, a national championship title tournament developing.

“With a winning record we may be National Champion,” Harry Jr. thought putting his head on the pillow requesting a good dream.

A lingering summer heat wave terrorized Rural AM’s season opener despite the month stereotypical behavior. Fourth quarter, the numbers revealed Rural AM leading until the final play when the higher temperatures overheated the defensemen allowing an offensive wide receiver a Hail Mary completion opportunity.

This losing moment hinted Harry Theodore Jr., ‘return to the project, get it finished “

Listening to the fatherly advice, the senior hit the books, conjuring proper vibes, and crisp weather settled into the scene sparking positive results. Magically, the Roadies did not lose another game and found themselves qualified for the playoffs.

“This is great,” Harry Theodore Jr. pondered, “we may win the big title.”

Reflecting haunting memories lurked, if that simple unbelievable, unfolding events did not occur then Rural AM would earned a bye and headline role in the showcase featuring many blossoming floral arrangements.

Lecturing discussions and studying finally concluded and the sporting professional audition exam was handed out signaling Harry Theodore Jr., no turning back now. Already, deemed a successful season record, posting good enough grades for a nice festive time resort trip gift, filled with publicity teases, making a fitting recreational climax concluding the former adolescent fantasy, but the alluring new alternate format change offered an exciting temptation, National Champion honors.

Unlike the past, the clock stopped at two minutes and Harry Theordore Jr had a strong feeling his playing career survived another week. Hope dwindling, the opponent still had a chance, and the Hail Mary scenario played out.

“Cooler temperatures and we have electricity,” Harry Theodore Jr. mumbled inside his helmet, instigating a Father style inner voice to comment on the situation.

“You really should spend the holiday vacation time finishing the project, it is your ticket to getting a degree.”

It was then a miracle took place commanding Rural A&M’s gridiron unit, ‘pack your bags, go home, enjoy Christmas and New Year’s.”

Still stinging from the double Hail Mary whammy Harry Theodore Jr. waited patiently for the January 1st sun to rise. Suddenly, the porch door opened, standing there holding a coffee cup, his Mother.

“Are you getting ready to play in one of those games with the flowers?”

“No, Mother I am here drinking my long neck soda pop,” Harry Theodore, Jr. stated, “then I am going to test the project we completed the night Hail Mary provided those who wanted something,”

“What project was that?”

“A machine that airs out bacon, make it fresher before selling it to the market.”

Harry Theodore Jr. held his degree in hand, smelling the sweet personal success, after the Rural AM graduation ceremony. Giving his Mother a hug, peering into his eyes, “what kept you so motivated?”

“Our project had to work, and it did,” Harry Theodore Jr. explained, “I have a degree and an invention that will air out bacon, meaning one last thing, I have to put the PAT through,”

“Point after touchdown,” Gladys remarked.

“No Mother,” Harry Theodore Jr. clarified, “a patent. Then enjoy a million-dollar payday.”

“Amen,” His mother smiled and the two walked towards the future together realizing when you air out the bacon, a wonderful egg might hatch creating healthy breakfasts each morning.