This UT grad cannot help but be drawn into Texas A&M's tailgate party: Graceland lives at Kyle

During college football season, my Saturdays tend to look something like this: Wake up early in Houston. Vacillate for an hour between whether to stay in bed a bit longer and spend a relaxing weekend at home, or subject myself to a two-day hangover.

After a barrage of text messages and phone calls and a few moments of quiet reflection, ultimately decide upon the latter. Drive to College Station for game day.

Herein lies the paradox: I graduated from the University of Texas, not Texas A&M. The two universities harbor an intense rivalry, but I'm not even remotely interested in football.

 Graceland's roof serves as a platform for ring dunks and beer shotgun races. Occasionally, a mariachi band stops by for a song, or Jackie Sherrill shows up. 

However, my entire family — grandfather, mother, aunts, cousins and sisters — embraces the Aggie tradition, and my parents can put on a helluva party.

They own a maroon and gold RV (fondly nicknamed "Graceland" for its ostentatious decor) that they park in a lot within earshot of Kyle Field, surrounded by hundreds of other campers with growling generators, flapping flags and good-natured Aggie fans in lawn chairs. No one seems to mind the close quarters, the lack of amenities (water and electricity hookups and clean restrooms are all wishful thinking) or the sparse grass.

Graceland's roof serves as a sometimes-platform for ring dunks and beer shotgun races. Occasionally, a mariachi band stops by for a song, or Jackie Sherrill shows up and agrees to a photo shoot, or my grandfather — a former Yell Leader — hosts an impromptu Yell Practice with family, friends and strangers.

I can't speak for all Aggie tailgates, but whether my parents are serving gumbo or barbecue, hosting opponent fans or staunch A&M supporters, the attitude at their site is always one of camaraderie, free from the bitter contention often associated with college football.

This is what makes the annual UT v. A&M game each Thanksgiving bearable.

For me, A&M's departure for the SEC and the possible end of that longstanding tradition is bittersweet.

It means that my family can finally spend the holiday away from the stadium and the television starting next year (Texas athletic director DeLoss Dodds sent an email to his A&M counterpart informing the Aggies that UT's schedule is full through at least 2018, making this year's game on Nov. 24 the last Texas/Texas A&M game for the foreseeable future). A deep, century-old rivalry is being eclipsed by something as silly as a scheduling conflict.

I certainly don't think that it warrants legislation, but is there a way to dismiss the tradition without more bad blood? For the love of Graceland?