When my daughter visits Nashville at Christmas, she always wants to go out to the Opryland Hotel to see the lights and decorations. Actually, we've been doing this since she was in high school and I was at V'bilt, and, almost always, we've shared the pathways not just with ferns and poinsettia (or an occasional wedding) but also with cheerleaders. I think some high school cheerleading competition must be held there during the holidays. Everywhere we walked in past years, they were in front of us, three or four girls side by side, swinging long hair, flipping short uniform skirts. I remember once when my brother was with us. He's the same age of my daughter, Christie; they might have been about 17. Everywhere we went, Tommy mocked the girls behind their backs. He was so good at it that we all laughed, even though Christie was a cheerleader herself. I like to think about it because it made everything both more surreal and, somehow, more "right" for the place and time.

But you haven't lived until you've joined a packed Southwest flight to Florida with the entire UT-Martin cheerleading team on their way to their first national competition. They woke me up in a wonderful way. One girl sat beside me, others all around me, the sponsors across the aisle. All of them bright blue and white from head to toe. They were so sweet; I don't think I've ever seen people more excited. Most had flown very little and two of the guys never before, so there were all kinds of comments about every detail of the flight. (This is in contrast to children who fly alone: I find that most of them want to show that they know exactly what is going on) They reassured each other about oxygen masks and the slightest turbulence. Everyone worried about the two terrified boys, who were as big as linebackers. Each one of the cheerleaders carried blue plastic dufffle bags and enormous bags of penny candy which they ate from all during the flight. The girl beside me would lean over to give her candy wrappers to the attendants every time they passed. And some of the girls were playing those games I remember from elementary school, the ones in which you ask each other questions like, "What are two colors you'd like to have for your wedding and one you'd hate?" So this girl, with her Holly Hobbie quilted pillow on her lap, was throwing answers over my shoulder: "Hummer. Four-door Chevrolet. Aliyah. Shanika. Alexander. Light purple. Yellow. Brown."

I think it was a good reminder for me of how "adult" college students can be. But these seemed different from Belmont students, generally. More country, I'd say. Two girls in the back called out: "Wer'e back here plannin' our out-fits"--that last word with four syllables, just like in my hometown. They all wore really heavy make-up and one of the most made-up was turned around, telling one of the sponsors how she makes cornbread: "I just put in a little more flour than my mama and cornmeal and a egg, oh, yeah, milk and I wait til the pan is makin' a noise and I put it in." She said the secret to good fried chicken is to "marinade it in egg and some kind of spice like Greek." Then she said, "Yeah, I'm all set. I'll make somebody a good wife." In a way, it was like going back in time.

They were truly all happy, sweet, and friendly, though they'd be up since 4:00 traveling to Nashville. I think they all learned the life stories of the people they sat with, and I saw a man up on his knees during the flight, turned around to reassure one of the scared boys. I think the cheerleaders turned a commuter plane into a family; I hope they have a good time and fare well.
posted by Sandy at 12:20 PM