Monday - The Wrong Religion
Feb. 6th, 2006 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about how glad I was that the Super Bowl was over because I would not have to field the question about what I was doing for Super Bowl Sunday for another year.
Football is the State religion of Texas. When I was a kid, the minister at my family's church would give a 5-minute sermon on Super Bowl Sunday so that everyone, including him, could get out early and not miss a minute of the game. Back then, it started at noon. It is very awkward in Texas to tell people that you do not celebrate Super Bowl Sunday or watch football at all. They look stunned, then embarrassed for you. Sometimes they will gently ask why you don't watch the Super Bowl, in case some traumatic childhood event may have somehow robbed you of the joy of this special, special day.
"I just don't enjoy football," I tell them, "I never have." The disbelief and amazement in their faces are stark. "I'm a freak," I offer up as an explanation, to put it out in the open so that they don't have to.
"No, no, not everyone does," they will try to reassure me, "I mean, I've heard of other people who don't. You're okay." I know they don't mean it.
"So," they will venture, their curiosity piqued, "what do you do on Super Bowl Sunday, if you don't watch the Super Bowl?"
I treat it just like any other Sunday, I tell them.
"Oh, yeah, I guess you would. I never thought of that. Weird."
Yes, I agree. Weird indeed.
Football is the State religion of Texas. When I was a kid, the minister at my family's church would give a 5-minute sermon on Super Bowl Sunday so that everyone, including him, could get out early and not miss a minute of the game. Back then, it started at noon. It is very awkward in Texas to tell people that you do not celebrate Super Bowl Sunday or watch football at all. They look stunned, then embarrassed for you. Sometimes they will gently ask why you don't watch the Super Bowl, in case some traumatic childhood event may have somehow robbed you of the joy of this special, special day.
"I just don't enjoy football," I tell them, "I never have." The disbelief and amazement in their faces are stark. "I'm a freak," I offer up as an explanation, to put it out in the open so that they don't have to.
"No, no, not everyone does," they will try to reassure me, "I mean, I've heard of other people who don't. You're okay." I know they don't mean it.
"So," they will venture, their curiosity piqued, "what do you do on Super Bowl Sunday, if you don't watch the Super Bowl?"
I treat it just like any other Sunday, I tell them.
"Oh, yeah, I guess you would. I never thought of that. Weird."
Yes, I agree. Weird indeed.
