The weekend has arrived. It will end Sunday night and, thankfully, so will the Super Bowl.
I am already tired of the Super Bowl and rapidly beginning not to give a darn which team wins. It might help that my team can't lose. Nevertheless, no football game is worth all the energy the local stations put into the Super Bowl. Gator Wife asked me if we could just turn the darn TV off until Monday. Well, she may not have said, "darn."
I can remember a time when the local stations presented us with news.
Except for that which is force-fed me on the news shows, do you know how much of all the advanced stuff I'll be watching? And that includes all the non-news shows on network television. Yup, you guessed it. Zero. Absolutely Zero! Sure, I'll turn the game on at kickoff time and watch it until I go to bed. I'll bet I don't see the whole game. And I love football. The game, that is, not all the ridiculous pre-, post-, analysis, and on and on.
I saw another of those Super Bowl commercials. It didn't entice me to buy a Chevy. And that "Ferris Beuhler" one, isn't that a car commercial, too? I've already forgotten which car. Actually only two Super Bowl commercials from the recent past remain in my mind: Betty White being tackled playing mud football and the Darth Vader one with the little kid and the car from last year. I remember the scenes but have no idea what was being sold. I doubt I'll even remember the product of the two I seen so far this year. I've already forgotten one.
I'll be glad when this weekend is over. The Super Bowl will be behind us.
Puxatawney Phil saw his shadow Thursday. That means we'll have just (or another, depending on how you look at it) weeks of winter. Considering how this winter has gone, that may not be a bad thing.
Just one other little thought: Another sad thing about this weekend is the realization that the national Republican Party has committed suicide.
Oh. I hope you have a super weekend.
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