Super Bowl

I have long been a sarcastic commentator about the Super Bowl. My assessment has been that the game is intended, primarily, for the unwashed masses...the less intelligent among us, the morons who somehow equate their own abilities with football players who are both dim-witted and hyper-muscular.

Maybe I've been right.

But tonight I watched most, though not all, of the Super Bowl. And I found myself mezmerized by the event. I certainly do not equate my bulbous and weak body with the bodies of the athletes, but I connected with them, or someone, somehow. I didn't really care about the players,nor their coaches, nor most of their fans...but I cared that the New Orleans Saints might give the citizens of that city a boost if they won. But it grew beyond that as I watched the game. I actually enjoyed it. And that was despite the fact that I didn't want to. I wanted to watch it as a show of solidarity with the people of New Orleans, but I ended up watching it because it was exciting. And the game kept me on edge right until the end. I didn't sit glued to the TV, but I watched most of the game. And I liked it.

So maybe I've been wrong. Maybe my haughtier than thou attitude has been elitism of an ugly sort. I've not converted to a football fanatic, but I have changed my attitude about one game, and I've changed my attitude completely. I've allowed myself to consider myself "better" than the riff-raff who watch football. And now I'm among the riff-raff. And that's OK. It's better than OK. Maybe I'm getting over my self-induced snobbery.

But, no, I won't go to the next high-school football game with you. Rabid Republicans go there. I would just get into a fistfight.

Miscellaneous Recent New Mexico Shots

Click on any image below to embiggen.

Seeing Through Shadows

A former friend of mind (I say that because I've tried to contact him for years and he never returns my calls, etc.) once wrote that my mother "saw through shadows." He wrote that in an appreciation and acknowledgement in a book he and another acquaintance wrote. It was an English composition book, I believe. I always thought he was referring to her ability to understand issues that were complex and "foggy." But now, I wonder if he was referring to the fact that she helped him proofread the book even though she had cataracts and was "seeing through shadows."

This entered my mind tonight only because I'm seeing through shadows in my left eye. It hurts like holy hell and I don't know why. Blink drops don't do any good. I can't go to an ophthalmologist tomorrow because I have to leave town until Thursday. Shit. But now I wonder what my former friend meant. What did those words mean? My mother helped the two of them by proofreading their book; did she see through the shadows of meaning, or did she shee through the shadows of cataracts and still offer good advice to them?

I need to know this. I just do.

Scotch

I successfully cajoled my wife into going out for breakfast this morning. We went to The Deli-News, a very expensive deli. Two eggs, 2 pieces of sausage, some hash browns, and some toast for each of us...and a cup of bad coffee for me. $20. I'm not going to complain. I'm just not going back (at least not for breakfast).

Then, a full and productive day at the office.

Now, we're home and I'm drinking a Scotch and water...first time drinking one of those in my own house in 15 years or more. But I did have a few of them while I was visiting my brother in Mexico over the Christmas holidays...so it hasn't been long since I've imbibed in the good stuff.

Attitudinal Alignment

I'm going to go out today and enjoy it, despite the fact that I have to spend it at the office and then do errands I'd rather not do. I'm not going to let my attitude ruin my attitude. And just to prove it, I'm going to try to cajole my wife into going out to breakfast with me before we go into the office.

No Tengo Cajones Grandes

Just a few more days until I leave for Washington, DC. Monday, to be precise. I have as much interest in going to DC as I have in slitting my own throat...less, actually. And it's a long trip (relatively speaking, of course). I don't get back until late Thursday evening. And then I get to pick up the boatloads of work I did not do while I was out of the office. And then, the following week, I'm out from Tuesday through Friday. Only to return to even more bullshit.

I overheard someone speak tonight, on what I think was a reality show on television, about what's really important in life. And he gave advise that, as trite as it sounds, should be my marching orders. What he said, essentially, was this: "Don't put off what you want to do, not for another minute. For tomorrow you may die."

Why does it take me (and most of us) a lifetime to finally "get" it, only to find that it's too late to make the most of it?

If I had any balls, I'd walk in tomorrow and announce the closure of my business and my departure for an entire new life. But I guess I don't.

At the Moment

I spoke to a former boss today...he called me out of the blue. He retired on December 31 and is loving it. He said he has told his colleagues and former clients he'll be happy to have lunch or dinner or drinks with them and would love to visit with them by telephone, but he insists any such interactions must not include any conversations about the work he did or the associations he managed. I can relate so well to his restrictions. That's the aspect of retirement I most anticipate! Utterly erasing from my life everything about the day-to-day bullshit of dealing with clients and staff is so appealing.

Maybe I could do it...but I'd have to start dealing drugs or become a hitman specializing in right-wing fanatics to make enough money to pay my expenses, and that's definitely not on my radar at the moment. At the moment.