Well, another Super Bowl has come and gone--another drunken orgy of bombast and violence and, now, for the first time in American history, evidence of America's decline into third-world-ness. We are in debt and bankrupt in so many ways, we can't even keep the lights on.
At least no one was shot on the field, during the game, though my guess is that as a country we've kept up our daily average of 33 gun deaths.
I turned off the game before it got interesting. I looked at the clock around 9:30--I had already endured three hours of noise and I said to my wife "I've had enough." I went into our bedroom to see if I could still read after 180 minutes of inundating dumbness.
We had people over, Uncle Slappy and Aunt Sylvie as I had mentioned in an earlier post, a cousin in from San Francisco and my brother-in-law, his girl friend and my 15-year-old niece. We ate deli sandwiches and cake and drank about half a beer each and talked over the announcers who were talking over the game.
I didn't have much luck shhhsing people quiet when the commercials came on, but that, too, was ok. I had seen most of them online before the game.
Nothing stood out for me. I enjoyed some of the spots, but no new car is on my shopping list and my refrigerator is devoid of Bud and Beck's.
In all it was a not-unpleasant diversion.
That said, I'm glad it's over.