Counterprogramming: Path to Treason?

For the next couple of days, I know that I am going to be called on, by both colleagues and strangers on the street, to know the name of the team that wins the SuperBowl today. And there are years when I am actually able to do that. But it’s a challenge for me, and in fact at this moment, with the game theoretically underway, I am only able to name one of the teams, and none of the players. Which, as we all know, makes me something just below “enemy of the state.” That I have been following with great expectation the upcoming cycling season and the tremendous number of team changes going on makes me even more suspect, I know.

Anyone who knows me even slightly would not be surprised to learn that there could hardly be a less important sporting event in my pantheon than the SuperBowl. I have nothing against football or those who watch it, though I have nothing for it, either. I have enjoyed any number of games live, but it’s really not my thing. Giant steroid cases bashing into each other, a couple of hours a week for a few weeks — something less than I expect from my sports. And so for a number of years I’ve found something wonderful about this supposed national holiday, which is that grocery shopping is just amazingly improved when there is no one else in the grocery store. In years with snow, we have even specially enjoyed skiing, because many people seem to find themselves so hopped up with anticipation they are unable to go skiing that day.

Not feeling up for grocery shopping tonight, so here I sit before the television, and have decided to go with the strongest counterprogramming I can find — “Le Divorce,” as chicky a chick flick as one can find. And I’m enjoying it just fine. Call me un-American if you will — there’s even French all through it!

I’m just a rebel.