Jackson was obsessed with seeing the Steelers run out on the field. While he was tugging on my hand winding our way through the North Side to Heinz Field, I was remembering all the times I had done that same walk to see that same team with my father. It was a spectacular night. Pittsburgh was sparkling, the Three Rivers looked like a wreath around a town gathering around their beloved team. The closer we got, the more the sea of black and gold surrounded us setting Jackson loose to banter with everyone.
"Are you going to the game?" "Are you a Steelers fan?" " I am from New Jersey, and live in Colorado but I still love the Steelers because my Dad grew up here." "Do you always wear yellow and gold makeup all over your face?" "My name is Jackson, what is your name?" He engaged everyone. The ticket taker. The people sitting all around us. The men in line for the urinal trough ( yes, trough -he stood up on my shoes to pee into the river. I know...nice image....). Jackson was determined to stay the whole game, which being a nationally televised night game with commercial breaks ad nauseum meant it ended close to midnight.
Since Asher, my four year old was not included, I promised him we could have a date with just us tomorrow. Asher asked, "is it okay if Jackson comes along?"