We've got spirit, how 'bout you?

Our state is all abuzz with High School Basketball right now, as the state tournament is/was being played out.

Late last Saturday night, I was treated to a parade of pickup trucks, Pontiac GrandAms, Ford Tauruses, and a minivan or two, honking and dragging up and down our Main Street. The human contents therein whooping and hollaring to any and every person, dog, or cow who happened to be awake in the wee midnight hours.

I looked around and I appeared to be the only biped awake, standing on the front porch of the only house with the lights still on.

Several of the cars windows were covered in various team inspiring phrases, such as "Take State," "Onto the Big House," and "Seniors Rule," in addition to rhyming ditties involving the name of the school from which the caravan of revellers apparently originated.

From what my squinting eyes could surmise, the celebrating caravan was from the miniscule town just north of my small town. Then it dawned on me that they were raising a victory ruckus in our town not because they had beat our town's team, but because there was no Main Street in their own town to raise a ruckus on.

Their downtown area consists of several abandoned brick buildings, a smattering of churches, a gas station/eatery, a post office, and a few dozen occupied homes. The rest of the town resides far enough off the main drag or well out in the boonies to not warrant a drive-by celebration of any note. There isn't even a single stoplight to wait for and do a Chinese Fire Drill at (what we called them back in East LA...don't know what they call them here).

In the spirit of small town synergy, I waved my hand that wasn't holding my mug of brown rice tea, and momentarily joined in their celebratory spirit.

That was on their 3rd pass in front of my house and down Main Street.

By the 5th pass, I had stopped waving and just smiled as they drove by.

By the 10th pass, I acknowledged their presence by nodding.

By the 14th pass (yes, I was counting) I was chuckling and heading back inside as the local fuzz had decided that enough was enough and was escorting the dozen or so remaining vehicles out of town -- roof mounted light bars flashing, headlights pulsing, sirens politely silenced.

Go Team.