What happens when a tailgate drops?

This blog is designed to be an expression of my appreciation and love for life in the South in general and my native state of Virginia in particular.  I hope to express in my words and images some of what makes the South a unique culture unto itself.

The name, "When the Tailgate Drops" is inspired by a quote I heard on one of the most memorable days of my life.  When I entered college as a freshman, my parents helped me settle into my dorm room on move in day and soon left to return to Richmond.  My roommate, who I knew from high school, was moving in as well and his parents, or rather his mother was helping him make his half of the spartan room more comfortable.  His father sat silently to the side and looked every bit a combination of a Civil War general and biblical prophet with a long white beard and face that had experienced its share of sun and an outdoor life.   My roommate was an only child and his mother appeared to want to linger, not looking forward to the drive back home.  As the afternoon waned, his parents began the process of saying their goodbyes and leaving us to the business of making both the dorm room our own as well as needing to get dressed in our ties and blazers to attend the formal ceremony where incoming freshman signed the honor code.

After my roommate said goodbye to his mother, his father began to follow her out the door silently.  Just as he began to walk out the door, he turned to both of us and said all the words I heard from him for that entire day.  He looked us both square in the eyes and said, "boys....when the tailgate drops, the bullshit stops....its time for both of you to get down to business" and then he turned and walked out the door.  Having someone that looked and spoke like he did, I took his words to heart but didn't understand their meaning.  When I asked my roommate, he explained that his father was a lifelong hunter and he kept a kennel of dogs that were trained specifically for hunting.  These weren't considered pets but were tools highly prized for their tracking abilities.

To get to the forest or field where the dogs would be released to find the scent of deer or raccoon, they would be transported in cages in the rear of his pickup.  As the hunters would gather preparing to hunt, there would be always be joking and laughing as the men would welcome each other and renew friendships.  However when the time came to start the hunt, the men would immediately become deadly serious as they dropped their truck tailgates and released their dogs to pick up the scent of the game.   So when the tailgate drops, the bullshit stops.

Now, all definitions and stories for that matter often have alternate meanings and endings and this is no exception.  When speaking of tailgating at football games, it is fair to say that when the tailgate drops, the bullshit starts.  But as they say, that is another story entirely.