Super Bowl 2020

Spending time with my folks...10
My Mom's baked beans..............10
Looks like a win/win to me.

I like football, but if the Seahawks aren't playing, then I don't really care who wins. I just hope it's a good game to watch, and there are no cringeworthy Joe Theismann moments (when his leg was broken).

Update: Hooray for the Superbowl winners, the KC Chiefs.

Mr. Gibblet and I had a nice afternoon at my parent's home watching the game, and enjoying a delicious game-day dinner.  We had pork ribs, potato salad, and the aforementioned baked beans.  Mom gets 7 extra points for baking her famous apple pie.  So, I'm awarding the trophy to Mom.

Well, it turns out that the Chiefs beat the 49ers 31-20, almost exactly what Ed Morrissey predicted at Hot Air and the same margin (and close to the same score) KFZ had.

The baked beans would get no points from me -- when they have any beans or peas here I get something else (usually a salad or chicken noodle soup, occasionally a peanut butter sandwich).  But barbecued ribs and a good pie are another matter.  So what trophy did you give your mother?  And what type of potato salad did you have?  When I was young we sometimes had a mashed potato salad with a little sweet relish instead of the standard version with mustard and potato pieces.

Timothy, you would have liked the potato salad. Mom said she overcooked the potatoes (looked like yukon gold) so they where mashed by the time it was mixed with the eggs, mustard, mayo, and pickle relish. It was very good. (My brother, btw, makes potato salad using instant potatoes!)

Mom has always made the best pie crust, which she can mix up in about two minutes without a recipe. It is flakey and not too thick, and she always sprinkles sugar on the top crust. She uses whatever apples are on hand - Fuji on this occasion - and is generous with the cinnamon.

The trophy she earned was an implied and virtual trophy. I did, however, bestow an extra hug and kiss at the door as we were leaving, followed by a volley of sincere compliments.

My parents have been married 63 years, are both 83 years old, and are in good health. I treasure all the holidays, game days, and anydays I get to spend with them.

The 49ers looked manly enough all around. The gayness was in the hilarious costumes worn by the designated eunuchs dancing around the pretty chick with large thighs and not much on.

It makes one embarrassed as a human being to know that this is what is considered high entertainment. I was told that a Facebook group of Conservative Girls denounced it with something like: “Hey, I thought woman weren’t supposed to be sex objects?”

The commercials were almost without exception over-produced crap. Humor was once achieved by the Bill Murray groundhog ad, although I forget what was being advertised.

There was one, and only one, commercial with any class. I think it was for an Asian car company. I don’t remember which.

Basically the halftime show (and much surrounding it) was about Girl Power. You just can’t have the boys having their own time and place. That was shoved down our throats constantly last night.

Except for some of the football on the field, the whole event was trashy.

That’s a wonderful example of being held hostage to girl-power. An honest person would have said that it was just more pop-culture trash.

I guess I saw the beginnings of the Half-Time show when I walked in and viewed some woman who I did not know. (Her name is apparently Agulara or something like that.) In less than 30 seconds, I said to myself "this is trash" and walked back into the kitchen.

A few minutes later I went back into to the TV room and saw what looked like a striptease and I said to myself, "this is worse than that other woman" and again left the room. That was apparently Jennifer Lopez's act.

I said to my wife "this is verging on pornography and they claim the Super Bowl is for family viewing. More lies."

I saw nothing in either performance which required talent. Only a willingness to display skin and act whorish was necessary. Such is the state of our culture.