Sunday, February 3, 2008

In Praise of the Mighty Owl


Today marks the annual mindless American media-driven utterly idiotic total waste of time, commonly known as "Superbowl Sunday". Oh, please. I am unwaveringly content to be the truly rare, straight, American male who doesn't care in the least about this "event", other than what it does to television programming, and conversation among strangers. And I don't care at all about television programming, either.
I'm not even going to waste cranial steam on a tirade or fulmination here, either. I'm still getting over a particularly sapping respiratory infection that's kept me under the weather for over a week now... and I have better things to do with my remaining reserve of energy than give the so-called pastime of football further attention.
So with no further ado, I'm actually going to post a rerun of one of my own blogs (why not? it's mine, and I just recently passed the one-year mark), this from last year's "Super" Bowl event. My name is Aging Child, and I fully endorse the opinions expressed below, and have no interest in giving this silly endeavor further mind, since...
...I DON'T CARE.
Got that, Booboo? I don't care!
Here I am: the American man, leaving my mid-forties later this year. I am a US citizen (heh-heh, with German citizenship in my back pocket), I vote in every election I can get to (missed the big one in 1996 because I was overseas… but fortunately the election turned out all right), I once owned a car with fins on it, I prefer to buy American-made, I eat hot dogs in the summer and apple pie perhaps a little too often (though in the autumn, pumpkin's my downfall).
I am straight, reasonably intelligent, open-minded, college undergrad; I go to Mass every Sunday (and sometimes in between), I love my kids and my mother, miss my dad, try hard to listen to my boss; and if I weren't so heaven-bent on entering a monastery or seminary, I'd be on the market for one more open-minded ( = desperate) woman to finish my life with.
I SIMPLY DON'T CARE about bloody football!
I don't care that today is (let's all bow – no; you bow; I'll tap my toes impatiently) Super Bowl Sunday. I don't care about any sport – professional, academic, amateur, olympic, whatever. I grumble when the latest "Simpsons" episode is preempted by yet another screenful of overweight, overpaid men in tight pants chasing each other and a weird-shaped "ball" up and down a striped field.
Do please understand that I'm not anti-football; rather, I simply don't care for it, and care little about it. This has called for much patience from my mother, a brother-in-law, and my older daughter, all of whom are very sports-focused and seem happiest yelling at a fumble or dropped pitch.
Nor have I any desire to see this sport wiped out of our universe, or relegated to pick-me-up games in the park on fall weekends. A lot of time, money, and economy are tied up in sports of all levels and – aside from where it fills too much of many children's schedules – their loss to the powerhouse of western civilization would, in all likelihood, be of near-catastrophic impact.
In school, I did play some football in gym class… and fortunately the other players never looked to me for anything pivotal during our games. This was not a bad experience, folks; I didn't know how to play, didn't want to learn, and fortunately was not pressed to be a great part of it.
In 1996, I actually enjoyed watching a high-school game in north New Jersey with a girlfriend, whose niece (IIRC) was a cheerleader there. But I couldn't follow the action, was baffled by a yellow flag thrown onto the field more than once, and totally confused when suddenly each team began defending the other end of the field.
Bless my daughter's heart; during one game a few weeks ago, which was being shown on one of the large-screen TVs at my brother-in-law's house, she explained some of the basics, and objectives, translated the yellow line and the blue one, and so on, with great patience and no condescension. She enjoyed being my tutor for this impromptu class, and I do have to admit that – while noncaring about the sport – I am mildly curious about it… just not curious enough to tune into a game under ordinary circumstances. So Dear Daughter Shellie's information has since evaporated again from my cranial grooves; this is not her fault, of course, and I do appreciate her effort.
At about this same time of year in 1991, I suggested to a girlfriend (not the one I attended the high-school game with) something for the tiny minority of straight American men like me: on this particular hallowed Sunday evening each year, throw a "Superb Owl Party", complete with stuffed, wizened bird in the corner. My girlfriend suggested the slogan: "For those who don't care a hoot about football!" We could have the usual football fare – beer, beans, bucket o' wings – and put on an action film or "chick-flick".
Heh; we guys would be in a delicious minority there, too, because (I suspect) most of the attendees would be the football-widow type, and nonmarried gals who've been shoved aside for the day by their obsessed men.
Anyway, I never held one of those parties, but every year I give it some thought, and likely will continue do so. But the point would not be to make a point; it would simply be to provide an alternative get-together with friends, and friends of friends, who care as little about football as I do.
But when it comes to a good football game, I'll pass.
 

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