Heroes

For a long time, my hero was Lewis Grizzard, the Atlanta-based sportswriter turned humorist turned comedian turned actor. His writing flowed so well, it was like he was sitting on the porch next to you. He loved college football, barbecue and his dog. He believed in the Southern way of being a gentleman, taught to him by his father and grandfather. His columns spoke to me like nothing else. Then, Lewis and I began to grow apart.

As I grew and learned more of what I liked, I realized that despite all our similarities, Lewis didn't always agree with me. He hated soccer. I was starting to decorate my wall with posters of Europeans my friends had never heard of. He loathed the Filet-o-Fish. That was my favorite item at Mickey D's. Suddenly, my hero wasn't perfect.    

I left Lewis for many years. During that time, as my life took me from the small town South to the bright lights of Miami, Lewis' dog died then he did, both way too soon. Time passed and no longer was I surrounded by the people Lewis talked about (except Yankees -- Miami is full of 'em). Now, I  can't get a dog without a fence approved by the city. College football fans don't show up if you're losing. And I still can't find real barbecue.

But I did find Lewis again. In Miami of all places. I found books full of his columns and audio of his comedy routines on iTunes. And while I have found other heroes along the way, Lewis remains one of them.

All for tonight....