Roll Tide

https://x.com/japan_nobunaga/status/2076688497340244463?s=20

In Alabama a man said “Roll Tide” to me as a greeting.

Later that same day, the same man said “Roll Tide” as a goodbye.

I asked a woman at the store what it means.

She said, “Roll Tide.”

I asked what it means.

She said, “It means Roll Tide, sugar.”

So I began collecting evidence. I kept a list. I am not embarrassed about the list.

I have now heard “Roll Tide” used as: hello. Goodbye. Thank you. I am sorry. Congratulations. That is unfortunate. I agree. I disagree. And once, in a hardware store, as a complete set of instructions for installing a ceiling fan.

I heard it said at a funeral.

It was appropriate. It was the most appropriate thing anyone said that day.

I began using it. Carefully at first, the way a man handles a borrowed sword.

I said it to a cashier. She said it back.

I said it to a police officer who had stopped me for a broken taillight.

He looked at me for a long moment. He looked at my face. He looked at my taillight.

Then he said it back, and nodded once, and did not write the ticket.

I wish to be extremely clear that I am not claiming those two events are related.

I am also not claiming they are unrelated.

A man at a gas station heard my accent and asked where I was from. I told him Japan.

He said, “Roll Tide.”

He meant welcome. I knew he meant welcome. There was no ambiguity at all.

I have been in Alabama eleven days.

I have one word.

It has been enough for everything.

I have started saying it in other states.

It does not work in other states.

I said it in a warehouse store in Oregon. One man turned around.

He was from Alabama. He said it back. We did not speak after that. We did not have to.

I say it anyway.

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Terrion tried for sure but them Florida cops weren’t having it

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Accurate.

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Reminds me of the word Shit…so many uses :grin:

I like yelling “Oh Aytch!…” in Michigan, then pointing to the guy next to me.

It’s ok, I sent him flowers.

I love NOBUNAGA

He had a good one a couple of days ago about going into a diner and ordering a “Girled Cheese”

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It’s Bama’s “Aloha”

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There was another one about standing at the grill during a backyard bbq with the cook that was fantastic, I’ll see if I can dig it up…

Found it, I pulled out the text:

USA. A backyard. A man. A grill. Four hours.

He never left it once.

Everyone else drifted, drank, wandered, laughed.

He stood before the flames, turning meat with a long fork, immovable.

I knew him at once.

The keeper of the sacred fire.

I took my place beside him.

I said nothing.

This is the first rule.

You do not speak first to the man at the grill.

After a long while, he spoke.

“Low and slow,” he said, eyes never leaving the coals. “You can’t rush it. Rush it, you ruin it.”

I bowed my head.

A blade. A tea. A life.

None can be rushed.

I had crossed four thousand miles of ocean to hear my grandfather’s words spoken by a man in a “KISS THE COOK” apron.

“Everything worth doing is slow,” I said.

I have never cooked meat in my life.

But I said it as if I had said it a thousand times before.

He glanced at me.

Something passed between us. A current older than language.

His voice dropped, low, almost ashamed.

“My wife says just use the oven.”

He shook his head at the fire.

“She doesn’t get it.”

“They never do,” I said.

And this is where the man transformed.

For the first time in years, he had been understood.

He rose to meet it.

His back straightened.

His shoulders set.

His voice fell half an octave.

A teenager reached for the grill.

He lifted one hand without even looking.

“Not yet.”

The boy retreated. He did not argue. He could not have argued.

A woman asked when the food would be done.

He told the flames, not her.

“It’s ready when it’s ready.”

Three people approached.

Three were turned away with a single word each.

By the fourth hour, no one questioned him.

The whole party had arranged itself around the man and his fire, the way a village arranges itself around a shrine.

Then he turned to me.

He held out the fork.

“Watch it a sec. I gotta pee.”

I have stood at the gate of lords with a naked blade in my hand.

Nothing has ever weighed as much as that fork.

I did not move my eyes from the coals.

I did not touch the meat.

I did not know how.

I would not learn.

To learn would be to break the moment.

When he returned, I handed back the fork without a word, as one returns a sword to its rightful master.

He served everyone before himself.

He ate last, standing, still watching the fire.

We never traded names. We did not need to.

He believed he had finally met a man who took grilling seriously.

I believed I had finally met America’s last samurai.

Neither of us will correct the other.

Not now. Not ever.

So I have made a vow.

Every summer of my life, I will return to this country.

I will find a backyard. I will find a man at a grill.

I will stand beside him and say nothing until he speaks.

And when he says “low and slow,” I will bow my head as if my grandfather had spoken.

I will die before I tell him I do not know how to cook meat.

“KISS THE COOK,” his apron commanded.

I have obeyed.

I will obey again.

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Tahmato, tuhmotto.

Alabama, shit.

Yep, it works.

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Ncaa Football Sport GIF by ESPN College Football

https://x.com/i/status/2076804101896364485

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Is it just me or has Proctor & Gamble missed a marketing opportunity here? Who cares about Auburn the fan base’s detergent sales. From what I can tell they neither shower nor launder their garments.

How am I doing, @HSVLion?

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There are people who will seriously put a roll of toilet paper on top of a container of Tide, thereby making “Roll Tide.”

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I’m not surprised. Jefferson Davis loved puns.

Got any fisherman buddies ?

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ROLO !!!

Forget Yolo, thug life, roll tide, and aloha

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We’re now in Rollo Tomassi territory. They think they can get away with it.