According to my wonderful wife, Friday night is the best one of the week. I started thinking about that statement and realize that she’s right—again. Friday has always held a special place in all of our hearts.
During my life as a student, Friday represented the end of long week filled with homework, tests, and all the other trials and tribulations of school. During elementary years, it meant that I could play outside longer without being dragged in to complete the next day’s assignments. We didn’t leave the home place for activities. After Friday night supper, which many nights consisted of Mother’s spaghetti or hamburgers and homemade fries, Jim, Dal, and I would then gather around the television to watch our favorite show, “The Twilight Zone.”
For high school students, Friday was the best day for social activities. Ball games were big events for all of us. We were filled with school pride in those days and cheered our teams in victory or defeat. Some guys were lucky enough to have a girlfriend, so Friday meant dates and dances. The rest of us piled into cars for an evening of cruising the Copper Kettle, driving to Broadway to circle Shoneys, and then setting out for Oak Ridge to see what girls might be at McDonalds. It was cheap fun since gas was no more than 30 cents a gallon. Later in the night, some guys gathered at the red light in Karns. Cars lined up on both sides of the highway, and when the light turned green, they raced for the community center which was a quarter mile away. Races were suspended when cars came toward the racers or when “Everett the cop” came to break up the fun.
During college years, Friday nights brought a sweet break from the grind of mind-numbing lectures, hour-long labs, and late night study groups. Big schools were surrounded with businesses that catered to the interests of college students—drinking and the opposite sex. Smaller schools became ghost towns on Fridays as students threw bags of dirty clothes and textbooks in the backseats of their cars and then raced for the Interstate that led home. I knew a couple of guys who went home every weekend during their freshman year. They didn’t have a vehicle during some of that time, so they walked the ramp to the Interstate and thumbed down rides to home a hundred miles away. It’s hard to imagine doing that these days.
Young parents today spend many of their Fridays at some activity in which their children are involved. Baseball, softball, soccer, and basketball are just a few of the things that suck every minute of time from Friday. Sometimes weekend tournaments in those sports consume entire weekends as well, and moms and dads say a “thank you” when they can return to work for a rest.
Some couples make Friday a date night. They hire a babysitter and enjoy each other’s company without the constant harangue of children. At other times, parents load up the kids and go out for a meal on Friday. It’s a treat for moms who have worked hard at work and at home every day. The food doesn’t have to be special; it only needs to be prepared by someone else.
These days, Amy and I forego the dining out experience on Friday nights. It’s not worth the effort to fight for a place to eat or to wait for an hour to get a table. We have Tony’s Pizza on speed dial. Anymore when we call, they ask how we and our dog Snoop are. Netflix provides our entertainment. At least it does until one or both of us is falls into a deep sleep in our recliners. Fridays are now times to stay at home and sleep as long as we please on Saturday mornings. It’s a treat only offered by that one day of the week.
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