The Blessing that was Super Bowl XXXIX

On most other days I would consider three consecutive hours watching television to be three wasted hours. All I have to do is jog my eyes fifteen feet to the left of the tee vee set to see all the unread books stuffed into the bookshelf. How many words could I have scanned in 180 minutes? I could also think about the idle objects in the basement underneath me; treadmill, free weights, washer and dryer. Three hours could equal a few loads of clean laundry and a vigorous workout. I could even read while I worked out with the washer and dryer both running. None of that happned today.
It's okay today, though, because today is Super Bowl Sunday 2005. It is because of SB XXXIX that today's three hours were not wasted. I was not merely sitting alone staring at the tube. No no. I was participating in a societal event the whole time. After all, I have to get out of bed on Super Bowl Monday, go to the office and answer the question "Did you watch the game?" Everybody watches that game, wether it's compelling or boring. Do you really want to be the guy who flatly says "No, I didn't watch it?" That's a fun and awkward moment to be sure. I don't want to be that guy, which is one of three reasons why those three hours were passive, but not wasted today.

Reason one: As Patrick Bateman says in Bret Easton Ellis' novel American Psycho, "I just want to fit in."

Reason two: Something good might happen, and I don't want to miss it. Case in point being last year's Super Bowl. I'm talking about the game not the nipple.

Reason three: Even though it means I have lost a battle with my better instincts I do enjoy eating and drinking and sitting or laying down for three hours by myself with nothing to show for it except the guilt that I am trying to live down by writing this entry despite the run-on sentence which concludes an otherwise consice blog-blogity-blog-blog-blog.

© 2005 by justin michael cresswell