It is well documented in this blog that I don't like Sunday night games and like Monday night games even less. Night games compete with precious sleep, getting my blog up before Sunday night TV prime time, and do no one but the networks any good.
I asked the man who runs the office rate-'em-how-you-feel-'em pool how he feels about Monday night games and he said, "I hate 'em. They just drag out the whole process." In other words, how can you have a winner if the networks dictate the schedule? Yes, yes, Monday Night Football is one of the longest running shows on TV (now moved to ESPN so not really TV any more, is it?), but is it necessary? No, no, a thousand times no, I say.
What to write about when the Bears aren't doing their thing? Birds, it would seem, except no, not birds. The birders went to Michigan for a visit. I don't like to schlep so I have been keeping my binoculars in the trunk of the car that carries the birders and me to birding destinations. Yes, the binoculars accompanied the birders to Michigan and I trust that they all had a very good time. And so welcome to my own Sunday punt.
This morning I made a semi-serious attempt to pay attention to the NFL but was only befuddled by the number of announcers/broadcasters/analysts/commentators employed by various networks to give the blibbety blab about professional football and, wow, they are all enthusiastic. I take that back. They are ENTHUSIASTIC!! And each and every one of them has something to offer. They talk so much that I suspect they could talk the labels off cans, the friendly bacteria out of yogurt, and the paint chips off that unpainted garage up the block from me that was not scraped before it was painted so you can just imagine what that looks like and how big those chips are going to be and way sooner than the owners think. (They also have a wooden spike fence and decided to paint the pointy parts white except when they laid out tape for the line at the bottom of the white part, they didn't bother to check that it was straight before slapping on the paint so it's kind of a undulating, suggestion of straightness. I call this fence "Fort Ticonderoga.")
In other words, I could not stand a single word. I left my place of residence, got in my car, and did the girly thing: I shopped at a store that sells sewing supplies and crafts. After all, I had a coupon.
Yesterday featured shopping, too. I got a new sweater and a pretty and pretty heavy-duty bra. I had my eyebrows waxed. I got stuff for my hair and a new tote bag. I was pleased with my acquisitions and also got to meet up with my friend who also made acquisitions, and to see my friend's nephew's girlfriend, a personal shopper with a great eye for fashion, who knows how to put things together for people, and helped my friend to amass outfits. My friend has a very good job and has meetings that mean something and socializes for business so she needs outfits. I have a sub-mediocre job so I need neither outfits nor new clothes just clean clothes but it's nice to have some new and tidy things now and again. They were having a cosmetics event at one of the stores and women were sitting in chairs being transformed into various versions of themselves -- crazier, prettier, edgier, older, but not younger because that is too hard to do with mere cosmetics -- while too-loud music thumped. Better than the spectacle of make-up was that I got to sit and chat with my friend at a lunch.
Today featured another amazing spectacle of shopping. The store was stuffed because this store offered a coupon for 25%-off everything you bought, including things already on sale. There were sale racks with fabrics for 50%-off the already-discounted price, then knock off another 25%. There were young men with their male friends who sewed trying to figure out what some of the notions were: "It's a small wheel and it perforates ... what?" There was a young man picking out various fabrics for his fabric stash. There were young women loading up carts with plenty of fabrics -- fleeces, ducks, denims, and silks -- to make wonderful things of their own creation. Women studied the pattern books. People bought Christmas papers and tags and bags and boxes. They accumulated flower pots, yarn, knitting needles, felt, picture frames, thread, snaps, and scissors. There were dozens of people ahead of me in line when it came to check out, just 10 minutes later.
Unemployment is very high and I know if I tried to change job it would just be an exercise in futility and heartache and there are too many people who have been unemployed for so long that they no longer receive unemployment benefits. But this was not in evidence at the mall yesterday and it wasn't at the fabric store today. People were spending and happy to be doing so. Yes, there were bargains being had which gets everyone initially motivated, but at the mall and at the fabric store, happy days are here again.
The birders and the binoculars come back tonight and the Bears go to Philadelphia tomorrow to see Michael Vick and the Eagles. Last year, the Bears won. Fingers crossed that they will do it again.
End of punting.