At last, the summer doldrums are over. Trying to watch television during the summer is like hoeing sugar beets: You hoe out two weeds and five more sprout up to take their place. I tried, I honestly did, to find something to watch. After all, I have been retired for eleven years and do not have to prepare lectures about how a progressive and equitable tax system takes a higher percentage from the rich than it does the poor. Nor do I have to answer the usual questions: "Do we have to know that?" and "Will it be on the test?" No, dear blog reader, I have time to twiddle my thumbs and flip the TV remote endlessly in a futile quest for something to watch.
My search for television fare was hopeless. At least five bra infomercial programs dominated the airwaves. I had no idea. I had no idea that women buying bras was such a technically difficult and profitable business. No, I did not watch them. Also, numerous infomercial and other programs were concerned with building sexy bodies, sexy swimsuit bodies, and, trust me, one program (which I definitely did not watch) was called "Brazilian Butts." What is a Brazilian butt? Is a Brazilian one any different than a US of A one?
I tried other sports. I know there are soccer fanatics and they revel in watching people run all over a big field for hours butting heads and committing unseen fouls while trying to kick a little ball in a tiny net. But I usually lost interest after the first five minutes. Then there was championship poker, bowling, and major league baseball. I am sorry, baseball fans, but I lose interest in a 13 inning game when I don't know anyone on the teams and all I get to watch is closeups on the batter and the pitcher. I wait until the losing teams all get weeded out and then watch the World Series playoffs and that is quite fun. But that doesn't happen until fall. Golf fanatics ooh and aah over each swing of the golf club while watching the ball float through the air and land anywhere from a half mile to six inches from the hole, but if you're not into golf, it's like waiting for water to boil at a high altitude. And then there are sports like pool, billiards, table tennis, and who knows what else. If you are a parent of a male heir of younger age, you will be spending all summer traipsing from one Little League field to another chronically certain that your little future major leaguer is getting short shrifted by the coach and that the umps are doing your own team in.
But I digress. Last night the summer drought was over with a string of football games. Yes, football. The sport where boys and young men beat the living tar out of each other to move a little funny shaped ball up and down the field while thousands of maniac fans act like juvenile delinquents and make loud noises from the stands. The Utah Utes raised questions about how ready they are for the Pac-10 as they played an anemic game against my master's degree alma mater, Montana State. I cheered for the Bobcats and they played a better game than the Utes in the second half ending up only a few yards short of Utah in total yardage.
When babies are born in Utah, they are mostly born Republican until they go to college and study economics, and they are born either red (U of Utah) or blue (BYU). What makes football so much fun and causes football to generate so much interest is that generations of genuine hatred exist between the blue and the red. Now we can skip the political bloviators with their perpetual bloviations and can ignore the two or three dozen GOP Prezidential wannabes for a little while as they weed each other out with imaginative name calling, creative dissembling, and ego swaggering. Yes, we can focus mainly on football and life is back to normal.
So wives, your dear ones will be sitting on the couch all weekend for several months. Go out and buy stuff. Stimulate the economy. Your couch potato maniac husbands are not going to make any trips longer than to the bathroom at halftime, so don't fight it. Thank your lucky stars they won't bug you for awhile except for cold beverages, sandwiches, chips, ribs, hamburgers, cheeseburgers, and other gourmet items. If you have little kids, do not trust husbands to take care of them or change their diapers during their football trances.
Yes, the summer doldrums are over. Now on to Ole Miss and BYU tomorrow, not to mention a few dozen other games. No more AhBra infomercials or gas producing bloviators. We have genuine entertainment to take our minds off problems like unemployment, trillions and trillions and trillions of debt that little Murgatroyd age 2 will have to pay off, and the people who enter WalMart through the Exit door and exit WalMart through the Enter door. Happy football watching.