An old friend and I went to a Montana State football game back in, I think it was, 1987. Him in galoshes, me unwisely not, we’d tromped up the shiny, slick aluminum steps to the stadium’s eastside bleacher’s topmost row, mouthed our “Skuuzmee”s edging past early bird fans to a couple of vacant spots, and “Howzzitgoin’”ed our neighbors. We were about to park our fannies on the blanket we’d surprised ourselves remembering when I heard, “Oh my! Isn’t that just beautiful!” Being a little deef, as some are still wont to say in the eastern neck of the Big Sky...

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