MORE FOOD? IT’S NOT A QUESTION

There’s more food on the table.

Have another plate.

If it’s Super Bowl Sunday you’ll ruin your team’s chances if you don’t gorge yourself.

The barbecued little sausages won’t eat themselves. Grab a toothpick.

Homemade Buffalo wings? Right there.

You’ve been to a Super Bowl party, or hosted one.

That’s how you know the way you want to watch what could be THE GREATEST GAME EVER.

Since the Cowboys aren’t playing it won’t be my greatest game ever, but my team still won.

I want to like the 49ers but I’ve got a long hangover from the time of The Genius.

The new 49er genius isn’t outwitting everyone; at least not yet.

The problem with San Francisco is the same problem the Seahawks had in their second Super Bowl:

Give Marshawn the ball.

Give Christian the ball.

Or let Patrick Mahomes run you down.

 

Start More Food Early

C: What time does the game start?

Me: About a week ago, that’s when the team’s get down to winning, that’s when the distractions end.

C: I mean tomorrow.

Me: It starts the moment you wake up. Start by running through the channels for highlights of every Super Bowl played, then the interviews over the week of everyone. Do you have a favorite Super Bowl memory? Dust them off.

C: I don’t.

Me: Then try this on for size. The Kansas City Chiefs were the first Super Bowl team out of the old AFL, the American Football League, which was the new start-up to the long running National Football League.

They started out as the Dallas Texans the same year the Dallas Cowboys started, 1960, then moved in 1963.

They lost the first Super Bowl, but came back and won the fourth.

Now they’re on the verge of winning back to back titles with the same guys.

C: And Taylor Swift. You want them to win because of Taylor Swift.

Me: What I know about Taylor Swift the football fan is what I learned from going to my nieces’ softball games when they were kids. They cheered for each other the same way Taylor Swift cheers her team. She knows how to be a good fan.

Most of the news of NFL fans is about drunks swinging on each other in the stands, then women falling over, and everyone getting tossed.

I know all I need to know about that power couple I need to know, and they know the ropes.

C: Okay then.

Me: Otherwise the game starts at 3:30. Bring some sparkle.

 

I got up early to write that because I had bean dip to make.

The chili was resting, the wings thawed, the buffalo sauce ready.

To get in the right mood for what might be the second best game ever, but most definitely the last game of the passed season, I walked the dog, did forty minutes of targeted weight lifting, played guitar, and took a 210 degree sauna.

I felt swole enough for the big game, ready to clap and cheer.

Most of all I did what I needed to do so I’d be the first to hold grand baby.

(Guess who was first? My game plan worked.)

 

Game Recording Experts

I’ve had a couple of recording duties that didn’t turn out.

You know how it is watching college games with the long commercial breaks while some guy wearing a red sleeve on his arm keeps time.

So I recorded one game to skip commercials. It was national championship game.

It worked to perfection until the game went into overtime and I hadn’t added overtime.

Since we’d reviewed so many plays on the recording while we watched, the game was over in real time when the channel switched to the awards part of the program.

I learned my lesson, got scolded, and for the next Big Game I showed how much I’d learned.

The same thing happened. I banned myself.

Yesterday the group showed up and I snagged baby.

“Is the game recorded?”

“Yes.”

“Did Dad do it?”

“No.”

 

Just before halftime the recorded game skipped to the third quarter.

“Don’t look at me.”

But because no one had changed the channel we could rewind the game in real time to the end of the second quarter.

I call that lucky.

My nearly 1/6 year old little grandie and I were set.

Until? Until more food.

 

Checking Results The Day After

The best time for a ‘gut check?’ Not the Monday after a Super Bowl of more food.

Not after one last beer because why not since you’re not driving.

This isn’t the time to reflect on the differences between ‘fat’ and ‘skinny fat.’

No triceps flap? No shoe-tying problems? Just big and getting bigger?

Or just another average, every day, American?

Go ahead and beat yourself up, but why not give it a couple of days until you’re back on schedule with nothing on the horizon to change things up.

Get some targeted exercise.

Walk the walk over 4000 steps.

Sleep enough.

 Find the right light.

Eat more food with less processing. In other words, cook for yourself.

 

The guy in the memes can check what he might look like forty-some years down the road.

If he’s lucky.

I’m lucky. I feel lucky. After going through a few things, I still feel lucky.

Best of all, I know what good luck sounds like:

 

This will not beat me.

I’m tough enough to get through the hard parts.

There’s too much I want to do to stop now. (Hey Abby)

 

If you’re a writer writing a blog like boomerpdx, then you know the good parts.

Bloggers get an immediate rush after pushing publish.

Someone in India might find a post; someone in Japan might buy a book.

Thoughts left in comments give new ideas.

The reading I enjoy most is stuff that points out where to go, but finds someplace better.

I like a story with a surprise ending that seems inevitable once all the parts click into place.

Sound like the season of the Kansas City Chiefs to you?

Now go lay down.