Happiness. It's relative.
So what would you do for love? Walk across the country? Swim the English Channel? Sit on a metal bench at Lambeau Field with 80,000 football zealots in -30 wind chill? For four hours while the sun went down and the wind kicked up… Continue Reading “The Frosty Limits of Love”
Unless I was protesting some great injustice, someone would have to ask me to sit down only once and I would do it. Today at the Packers game, a Panthers fan sitting next to me stood up to watch every single play – when… Continue Reading “Go Figure”
I am married to a football fan. No, wait. I am married to a FOOTBALL FAN. He has gradually become more intense as a fan the longer we’ve been married. So I am beginning to think there is an enabling dynamic here. Some feminists… Continue Reading “Two a Day #13: The Frosty Limits of Love”
I’ve always had a healthy interest in sports. Mostly because sports involve men and I’ve always had a healthy interest in them. So, for instance, when I was divorced and lying around on the couch all weekend while my daughter was off visiting her… Continue Reading “Game Day”
At Lambeau Field, fans wear hats their fathers wore because they brought good luck once and might again; those with new hats defer to history, their sameness mass-produced offers scant chance of inheritance.
So what would you do for love? Walk across the country? Swim the English Channel? Sit on a metal bench at Lambeau Field with 80,000 football zealots in -30 wind chill? For four hours while the sun went down and the wind kicked up… Continue Reading “The Frosty Limits of Love”
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