Tuesday, February 05, 2008
I'm spending the morning with our one year-old before his minder arrives and I can head off to work. As he sucks on his brother's Crayola toothbrush, we watch our recording of the Super Bowl now aired by BBC2. (A great change, in the past we had to buy Sky Sports for the month.)
After you watch rugby for a while, you can't ignore how often they go sit down and rest while advertisements brainwash the fans. Or, how much padding those woosy little men are wearing as they run around with their rock-hard ... helmets.
The interesting realization which prompted this post, however, was how well trained the American football viewer has become. Past or present, it's an element of unconscious training. At just past 9 in the morning, cup of tea at my side and toddler playing with his inedible stuffed toys, I realized something was missing in my Super Bowl football experience: beer. Cold, delicious beer. I've no desire to have it right now, really; no ,thanks, that's ok, I'm grand. But something sparked in my brain (hopefully not part of the lurking alcoholic in everyone).
When I was in college, my best friend and I would be in our small box of a studio apartment drinking Miller Genuine Draft, eating Philly cheesesteaks, and waiting for the commercials. No better way to spend the afternoon instead of prepping for yet another exam.
Years later, it's also a great way to spend the morning with your son. Even without the fun ads, there's still something fun to watch as an American ex-Patriot. At the age of one, he's got so much to learn! So much to discover!
Ahhh, I love the smell of testosterone in the morning.