It’s Super Bowl sunday, as close to a sports holiday as this sports crazy nation gets. Millions of people all over the country, regardless of what team they root for, whether their team made the big game or not, whether they even made the playoffs or not, are partying, or getting ready to, with a scant few hours left before kickoff of the greatest show in all of sports gets underway.
And here I sit, quietly typing away on the keyboard of my computer, while listening to the monotonous sound of the fan that is currently working overtime trying to keep my (far too old) computer cool enough to actual run long enough to actually get one of these overlong articles I write done. No lights, no sports, no munchies, no tv pregame, no pregaming myself. Just me and the cats hanging, relaxing.
It’s about time for headphones, some light classical music on siriusxm perhaps, maybe some political talk radio, left wing, there is some left wing media left out there. Not much, but you can still find true blue Americans out there in the sea of red radio. But I’m not sure that I’m looking to get overheated about politics at this point in my Sunday.
I worked today, on looking for work. Now I know those of you who pay attention to this site know I got a part time job that started last week. YAY, and all that. It isn’t however, a full time job, which is what is needed. So the search continues. There were a number of jobs out there that I sent in for, including one for work overseas doing construction. I won’t turn my nose up at work, I don’t care where the job is, or what the circumstances are, I’ll do the job. The Gaza strip? Kabul? Islamabad? No worries, I know how to use a hammer, and I can learn whatever equipment they need me to learn. Can do.
My head is anywhere but the super bowl, as against my better instinct, I turn on Dave Marsh on America left, instead of listening to Beethoven’s Fidelio overture or Strauss’ Emporer Waltz, or being sports guy and throwing on some football oriented stuff.
Viddy of the day: Beethoven – Fidelio Overture
Listen to him talk to a black caller about Huck Finn, and about how publishing an edited version of the original, taking out the objectionable references, to make it more palatable for modern tastes, is a foolish thing to do. Let the world see what life was like back then, show exactly why Twain wrote that story. He wrote it to show man’s inhumanity to his own kind, and others, to show that people filled with hate, real hate, are slaves to their own thought and emotions, and it makes them lesser men. To show the foolishness of looking at others as inferior when they are merely different, when we are all different from one another, and different is therefore, never wrong.
Dave’s thought, my word rendering. Dave was more subtle and stronger than I in his description, though.
Turn the station. Listen to a song that sounds like it was written by a man in desperate psychological pain over an event he can’t quite get over, and is trying to find an answer to why it happened. Decide that despite the fact that I love that song, I’ll turn elsewhere, then realize that I can’t. I hear the words, the lyrics that speak as from my heart, know how it feels to feel exactly that. Reminds me of a life I left, happily, years ago. They may sound innocuous enough to you, but they move me.
When I was a child, I had a fever, my hands felt like two balloons. Now, I’ve got that feeling once again… I … can’t explain… you would not understand… This is …NOT ….how I am…
Pink Floyd, Comfortably Numb
(Overly dramatic rendering, but I like it.)
I turn it off, find Beethoven’s Fidelio overture, drown myself in the sublime and subtle beauty and strength of the music, if for no other reason than to get away from that beautiful song and the tumultuous emotional undercurrents that run through that song for me. It ends after a few minutes, and I recover myself enough to find a Thom Hartmann repeat on another network.
2 hours to kickoff, I think it’s about time for me to step away from the computer and go do things. I sit in front of this damned computer too much.
I’m getting soft in my old age, that’s no damn good.
That is all from this end, America. Enjoy the game.