Love Contrivance (8)

   
   "Love Contrivance (8)"
   
   I lifted Grandma out of her wheelchair, my ectomorph-like frame aching afterwards, but I chewed some Tylenol and had a cool glass of iced green tea; next, I felt better, locked up the house and jumped into my powerful Plymouth, cranking the 8 cylinder to a furious life.
   Driving through the bucolic backwoods merged with suburbia, I spotted a Ten-Point Buck, though never kill a stag--my opinion, but I don't live off the land like them fellas up in Alaska.
   So, at the warehouse where I rolled the newspapers, I cranked the Plymouth off, and smoothly exited the classic muscle car, strolling casually inside the blue collar work area.
   I was greeted by coffee-drinking types from all walks of life.  City architects attempting to make extra cash, and hillbilly dudes, kinda like me, slinging the news as an entire lifestyle concerning economic support.
   Football season was approaching, and as I rolled the political headlines, I started talking to a tobacco-dipping dude name Wally.  Wally was a Tennessee Volunteers fan, used to say stuff like:  
"I bleed orange; plus, shoot black and gold."  The last comment referring to Vanderbilt and the animosity that thrived between them and the University of Tennessee.  Next, Wally stated:  "Gotta watch the Big Orange play the Gators this weekend Simon, for they'll be playing way down south, in The Swamp."
   I thought about, and figured hell, I might just do that.