HOW BIZARRE

NOTE: The seconds, minutes, hours, and days of retirement are often filled with the minutiae of “nil.” That feeling of less responsibility, more leisure, and a lot of hardly anything is both positive and negative. This blog attempts to paint a few slices of the sort of life that reflects the “nil” that retirement can often be.


It was Super Bowl Sunday yesterday. And, as usual, I watched the game. I have watched most of the 52 Super Bowls. Even checked out a few puppy bowls over the years.

But this Sunday was different.

It was a Sunday in which, oddly enough, I was looking forward to watching a football game, a halftime show, some good commercials…and then a death. And to be quite honest, it was the death I was most looking forward to witnessing.

How bizarre.

I like football. I like music and entertainment. I like well-done commercials. But like every other normal person, I hate death. But there I was…secretly sort of hoping the football game was not a long, long game so that I could get to the after party. Which was a death.

And I was not alone. The media told me so. Millions were looking forward to the same death I was looking forward to witnessing. Millions were desirous of finally seeing this death, which had been teased and anticipated for more than a year.

And is that really all right? Is it?

Sure, it’s entertainment. Nobody is really going to die. It’s drama.

But it’s death. Probably death by fire (but actually not). A little gruesome. A whole lot sad. A whole lot devastating.

Yet I was looking forward to it, and felt so, so sad as I watched. Really pulled out all the heartbreak a television drama could actually possible give us. Yet, as I was feeling so, so sad, I was also feeling so gratified that I was finally seeing the beloved father on “This Is Us” (whose name is Jack) finally die.

And as I took it all in, as I finally contemplated the whole segment of the day from beginning of the game to the end of “This Is Us,” I felt a bit weird.

Every anticipation…fulfilling game…entertaining half-time…some excellent commercials…and the death of Jack…had been successfully fulfilled.

And I had been looking forward to seeing that death.

And, at that moment, weird somehow just didn’t seem like the weird that was a good weird to be.

How bizarre.

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