How to wake up on Superbowl Sunday, hippie-northwest style:
Roll (fall) out of bed, after staying out to the wee hours two consecutive nights for a Tool concert and bad Norfolk house dance music.
Stumble to bathroom.
Grind Wisconsin coffee beans, dispense into natural filter brew with exactly allocated water.
Crawl onto floor, NYT in hand.
Saunter through pages, savoring Arts, promptly recycling Sports.
Decide you are wound up and want to go through the trees.
Don running gear and drag brick-like legs through the woods.
Feel happy.
Collapse into shower.
Eat leftover tofu scramble for breakfast.
Ready to start the day.
How to watch Superbowl, surrounded by ESL Asians:
Declare that you are uninterested in Football.
Accompanying person wholly agrees.
Decide to eat at Japanese Sushi restaurant which happens to have two flat screen TVs.
Drink sake & miso soup.
Watch Madonna. Wonder how much plastic surgery she’s had.
Notice the game is close in the fourth quarter, and become interested, since they have kindly made it exciting.
Secretly cheer for New England even though you are with someone who lived in Brooklyn for several years.
Unsure why you are cheering for New England but it is what your heart is telling you. You trust your heart.
Secretly enjoy that you are aware of the rules of football, and not completely lost watching the game.
Think that this is good enough for the next 10-25 years- the next time you are likely to view the Superbowl, based on the interim time between the last time you watched it and today. (You think the last time was when you were about 12 at the Skatium in Minot, ND.)
Decide that the whole thing is rigged and stupid but enjoy the experience anyway.
Happy to be American and able to talk about football the next day at work.
Wonder if you are insane.
Traversing backroads paths.
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