I got lost once and drove past this. When I wanted to show it to someone, I couldn’t find it again. (No, my GPS apparently isn’t programmed to find Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox statues.) I had an errand to run this morning, and I drove past it again.
I just finished reading Duma Key by Stephen King. Anyone else read it? (Besides my brother. I read his copy.)
Yeah, probably not the best thing to read in the middle of your first brutal Iowa winter when you’re missing the comfort of Tampa. Either that or the perfect thing to read. Maybe si maybe no.
In any case, it made me miss Tampa, The Bone and trying to run into Stephen King at Skipper’s. Sigh. Thanks, Steve.
I have a few things in common with President Barack Obama and his family (aside from the whole “leader of the free world” thing). He’s just a few year older than I am. He’s been happily married for 16 years. So have I. He has two beautiful daughters. So do I. They had a Super Bowl party yesterday. So did we, though on a much smaller — and less bipartisan — scale.
I wonder if Malia and Sasha had their 3D glasses too.
“Enhanced? Hey, Daddy, what are they talking about?”
“Daddy? Why is that girl taking off her shirt?”
The Nielsen Company says in its Super Bowl guide that 37.7 million women are National Football League fans. That’s 42 percent of the viewing audience. I wonder how many children regularly watch NFL games.
How do women football fans reconcile the game and all the “Go Daddy” stuff that comes with it? Or do you? Does it just come with the territory, even though you’re almost half the viewing (and spending) audience?
How would you answer the questions I imagined Obama’s daughters might have asked? What would you tell your sons?