It was kind of quiet yesterday, like everyone was inside watching TV at the same time. Were a lot of you watching? Just kidding.
I have watched past Superbowls but this year I found myself severely disinterested. Maybe this is due to my recently waning interest in pro sports in general, or maybe I just hate the stupid Patriots and stupid Tom Brady. Or maybe I preferred to spend Sunday sharing meaningful moments with my children. Not indoctrinating them into this annual spectacle. Maybe wait until they’re older and can choose for themselves if they want to watch television. Maybe not even then if it means they sit around watching grown men smash into each other hard enough to cause injury.
Creative play and intelligent conversation, nurturing them further along in their long journey through life, seemed better to me than having them sit for hours in the same room with adults imbibing alcohol watching steroid users crash into each other and inflict broken limbs and concussions, the violence and booze dilating our pupils so advertisers can swoop in for the kill with sexualized ads to brainwash us into buying their products.
I did end the day with a certain sense of smug self-satisfaction. But in this Facebook world saying you enjoyed spending time doing something hidden from full public view, quietly off the grid, brings you strange stares and ostracism rather than admiration and respect.