The Square Peg - Super Bowl Sunday
© S. Bradley Stoner
I’ll admit it. I watched the Super Bowl. No, I didn’t have a horse in this race so no favorites for me. Frankly, it was a little hard on me. You see my eldest son’s favorite team is the New England Patriots (unless of course he happens to be at a Texans game). Counter that with an old and good friend whose favorite team is the Atlanta Falcons. I was in a quandary. After all, if I rooted for the Falcons I’d make my friend happy, but then I remembered the look my son gave me when he was little and the team I was rooting for beat his favorite team. At least he didn’t call me Benedict Arnold. I’m sure he thought it, but he didn’t say it. It took almost fifteen years before we could talk football together again. I’d like to say he grew up, but maybe we both have.
Anyway, the game didn’t start until 5:30 our time, which of course is the real time because the game was in Houston. Yeah Texas! The east might have claimed the title, but we claimed their tourist dollars and made more than a few converts to Lone Star long necks and Shiner Bock. That’ll keep those tourist dollars comin’ in. That’s right y’all... come visit, spend your money, and GO HOME! We’re friendly here in Texas, but not that friendly. If you don’t know how to pronounce “chaps” (the kind you wear at a rodeo or on the ranch, not some English dude), don’t like guns, or cactus, don’t overstay your welcome. By the way, chaps is pronounced with an ”sh” start... You know, like Chanel, dip stick. Only drug store cowboys use the other. Sorry... I get a little wound up over that. And, once again, I digress. Seems to be a habit.
Where was I? Oh yeah, start time of the big game. The question was, with the game starting so late, “What to do?” Okay, I killed the first couple of hours in the morning working on my novel... I’m not going to say it’s going to be epic... I’ll leave that to others... if I ever finish it. After that, well fishing season is all year round down here and since I didn’t have time to hit one of the local fishing holes, I thought I’d find a fishing program on the TV. There are usually a lot of them on early Sunday morning. And it was early. Did I mention that since my wife switched her hours she has to be at work by 6 am. That means we’re up at 4:45, so yeah, early.
I hit the couch after doing my walk and weights, picked up the remote, and cranked up the old set (no, I don’t own a flat screen... I own a good old fashioned CRT that I bought in 2004 and it still works great). Do you have any idea what is on TV early Sunday morning? Besides the tele-churches? I’ll tell you what is on. Infomercials. They have shows hawking everything from cutlery to lingerie, jewelry to pressure cookers. You’ll find out that the “new Shark Vacuum” really sucks... literally. That must have copper pan that will revolutionize your cooking because “nothing sticks to it.” Oh, and there’s one that promises you that you will “get ripped” if only you use their method. There’s a bunch of those featuring muscle bound men and svelte women. They kind of offset the plus size and big and tall men channels. There’s even one with some guy who sounds like he’s from Jersey that promises you his “secret” will improve your sex life and goes on to explain how the male apparatus functions. Really? On Sunday for crying out loud. Bottom line, out of the 800 or so channels I get on my satellite dish, I’m pretty sure 720 of them are devoted to infomercials on Sunday morning. Now that sucks!
I turned on the weather channel. They were screening footage from Tornado Alley... not anything recent, just exciting scenes from past seasons. I couldn’t even get the cotton pickin’ forecast. Then I remembered I had an Echo, so I asked Alexa for the weather. Even the weather sucked. High of 67, low of 52 with low clouds, mist, and drizzle all day. Thanks, Alexa... you suck. Her response, “That’s not very nice.” Great, a PC VOX device.
“Alexa, what sound does a whale make?”
“Splash! Just kidding...”
At least now she explains that whales have songs. She used to just start some stupid song about whales that nobody else has ever heard of. And don’t ask her why Google can play whale songs... she’ll just tell you that “Google is a search engine. I’m a different kind of device.” Oh and don’t tell her she’s stupid... you’ll get same answer as when you told her she sucked. At least I can ask her to play The Eagles or CCR and get a couple of hours of music I like.
Where was I? Oh yeah, waiting for the big game. With CCR in the background, I killed the rest of the morning doing laundry, the dishes, and other chores I inherited when my wife went back to work. Oh, I don’t mind. I did them for years before I got married, and then she did them for more than twenty years, so turn about is fair play... and I’m experienced at it. That killed the rest of the morning. Then lunch. I suppose I could make the midday meal a gourmet affair... I have the time, but that’s not the way I roll. I do a tortilla wrap with mesquite turkey and jalapeño jack, a few pita chips and another cup of coffee. At least I found a fishing show to watch with my lunch.
I went back to writing until my lovely came home and we spent the next couple of hours catching up on the day’s events. Mostly hers, my day was, well, in a word, boring. Then it was time to throw the pizza in the oven and turn on the game. Wow! What a game. The first half I gleefully watched Atlanta build what the announcers said was “an insurmountable lead.” Second half, guess what? Brady and crew surmounted it and sent the game into the first overtime in Super Bowl history. The rest, you probably already know... it’s been all over the news today. I’m sad for my friend and glad for my son... I hate being conflicted, don’t you?
Oh, and just so you know, Bingo Bob is going to be impossible to live with. We’ll be lucky if Duncan Donutz doesn’t shove his American Eagle up Bob’s wazoo and pull the trigger before the year is out.
Y’all have a great Monday!