What it was, was football...

I think it is because this Sunday is Super Bowl Sunday, that I have been thinking about Andy Griffith. Well, not so much Andy himself but a recording he did when I was just a child. I clearly remember my father coming home, being so excited, holding a little record and wanting us all to gather around to listen. The record was a recording by Andy Griffith called “What it was, was football…”.

I remember my father laughing and laughing and laughing and I probably laughed, too, because I thought that was the appropriate response. The truth is I did not understand the point of that record then any more than I understand the point of football today. I WISH I understood football. I have tried for years to understand football. My husband, my son, my brother, my nephew…multiple understanders of football have tried to explain it to me. Sorry, I just don’t get it.

For years I avoided any invitations to Super Bowl Parties because how was I going to fake it for an entire evening about this game that everyone else seemed to understand and adore? But then I had an awakening. I didn’t have to understand the game, because there was an alternate reason to enjoy the Super Bowl. No, not the commercials (though those can be quite entertaining) and no, not the halftime show (because half the time I don’t know who on earth the person is who is doing the entertaining).

The reason to enjoy Super Bowl Sunday was—you guessed it—the food. My husband knows how to fix a feast, even if it is just for the two of us, for Super Bowl Sunday. He understands football even though he doesn’t really like football, but let me tell you, the man can cook!

So a few years ago we began to have our own little mini-Super Bowl Sunday gathering, just the two of us, with food that we don’t have any other time of year. Tom, the husband-chef, cooks chicken wings and even though I am not a usual fan of those bony little pieces, they are delicious on this particular Sunday. Crispy and juicy.

There is also a bowl of tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa. For years, because of my onion allergy, there was no hope of enjoying salsa, until our son discovered Mario’s Salsa which is onion free and spicy and perfect. The chips now have a buddy for the taste buds. And yes, we make queso. Melted down Velveeta with a little Rotel thrown in for zest and the chips have another friend at the table.

And don’t forget the guacamole! I have become a professional guac maker as avocado toast has become one of my favorite breakfast delights. So our menu is set. Sometimes there have been deviled eggs but they seem to be slipping off the Super Bowl menu.

We wait for the game to start before we feast but feast we do and it is fun even though I have no idea why those men in their colorful suits are running this way or that way. I am thankful they are wearing helmets as regardless of one’s physical ability, we each only get one brain and it seems there are a lot of challenges during a football game to keep your brain intact.

I do know when a touchdown is made and I am always impressed if there is a kick that goes between the goalposts, but that is about as intricate as my football knowledge gets.

But we enjoy our tiny Super Bowl party. I try to find a team to cheer for but it doesn’t break my heart if my chosen team does not win (unlike when my UNC basketball team loses and I weep and moan).

So Sunday is Super Bowl Sunday. Will you cheer for the Chiefs or the Eagles? Will you have some party foods to celebrate? Will you know what is going on?

Even though I hope it doesn’t disrupt the menu, I am going to suggest to my husband that we skip watching the Super Bowl this year.

There is a lot that is going on right now that does not feel like a party. There is a lot that feels like the right thing to do is march in the streets and I am grateful that some who are more physically able than I are doing just that.

What is happening right now is despicable. It is not a celebration, not a party, it is a coup. Yes, what it is, is a coup. A coup heartily supported by a President and what appears to be the entire Republican Party.

But I also know that we can’t go at it 24/7 and sometimes we need a break. Sometimes we need to fill a plate with chicken wings, some chips and salsa and guac and give our brains and hearts and bodies a break. If only for an afternoon or an evening.

So party on if you need to party. Enjoy every minute, every drip of the queso as it runs down your chin. I am sincere when I say this.

You know what you need but I just can’t watch this year. When they got rid of the words at the end of the field that said END RACISM because they knew that President Trump was coming to the game and replaced it with CHOOSE LOVE and IT TAKES ALL OF US, fine sentiments but such cowardly ones right now, and then defended those with pretend reasons, I thought, “Yep. I am done.”

Because what is happening right now in this country, this country that we love so dearly, is not a game. It is not a game.