When In Doubt

Title of post has no bearing on content of post in this case. That I know of. I haven't written the post yet. But the title seemed apt nevertheless.

Reminder -- I am not a Deadhead. I've seen the Dead a couple of times, seeing as I came of age in the Bay Area, it was pretty inescapable; I enjoyed the band, but the whole deadhead-thing I never got. Just like to mention that every six months or so. It's not really a reminder. It's a disclaimer.

By an amazing coinkydink, my activites today actually relate to my previous blog entry. I made that Cinnamon Walnut Orange Craisin bread again. This time I skipped the raisins and went whole-hog for the craisins. And I cooked them the proper amount of time and they came out looking adorable! So now they are all wrapped in shiny tinfoil with gold ribbons ready to gift to the neighbors tomorrow. The teachers ended up with candles, Stories of Strength books, jars of preserves, and chocolate. Something for everybody. But no one got alla those things, ferhevvinsakes.

My other activity today was make candles. Mixed results. Jury not yet returning a verdict.

My other other activity was watch a little football. Mostly over the back of the couch as I worked on those other activities. I am rather frustrated with the networks and the NFL. In our house, football watching is a family activity. The girls won't sit through two solid games, but they do enjoy spending time sitting with their dad watching a bit of the game now and again. And they know the teams and certain players and can be duly impressed by a fine catch, throw, run, or block. But those commercials! I can't have my children seeing that heinous crap! Or hienous crap either. I'm never sure about that. Usually we turn the TV all the way off during the commercials. It's kinduva game to get the TV off before the commercials start and then, using a mix of skill and ESP, getting the TV on before the game starts -- but not while the commercials are still on. That helps a lot. Although some commercials are too entertaining to turn off. LIke the UPS one where the three wierd guys are grooving in an empty office and the uptight guy comes in worrying about everything and the three wierd guys can answer all his questions in 11 seconds, thanks to UPS somehow, and then they go back to bizarrely gyrating to the beat. That kind of commercial is rather fun. Victoria's Secret commercials have their aspect of fun too. But I don't consider soft porn appropriate fun for my children. Especially not WITH their parents. Sheesh. How sick is that? And then -- The Previews. That's the worst. The teasers for the wicked mayhem one can enjoy later that day or that week on this same station are truly horrifying and almost make it not worth watching the game. I can hardly believe I said that. Seems though, like it'd be a losing battle to complain. The whole reason football exists, if you boil it down, is to sell that other heinous crap.

Now that's a shame. Here's what I like about football. As a sport goes, it's an overthetop, overblown show. Sorta like opera. And we all like that, right? And it's a horde of men all touching each other with an utter lack of self-consciousness. Okay, not utter. But their guards are down, so to speak. Lots of hugging and patting. I think if someone did some scientific survey and broke it down frame by frame, there is probably more hugging and leaning and patting than there is hitting. And if you really really break it down, think of all that hitting and then getting up to go on and play some more. That is some precision hitting. I know they get hurt and must feel like shit after the game, but still, it's amazing that they aren't hurt more.

Why in the world am I going on and on about this?