My brother is old enough to remember The Super Bowl. The first one. Men in my family were always football fans. I lost all but vague overall interest in it over the years, and as the cesspool of convicted felons and repeat offenders populating the field deepened and then became a soapbox for people who've never even read a history of political science book, I turned my back on it completely. The last Super Bowl I remember watching featured Black Eyed Peas at the halftime show. I couldn't tell you who played.

Couple of days ago, big bro calls to see how I'm doing. He mentions the upcoming game, and how he struggled making a choice in the big game between Packers and Bucs because he also loves Brady. I asked (completely serious, "Oh, is that who's playing in the Super Bowl?" He laughed and responded that they had played in some playoff game. I said, "oh, gotcha."

I could tell he was trying to figure it out, and he asked, "Do you not know who's playing in the Super Bowl?" "No," I replied, "and I really don't give a shit either. The NFL's as good as dead to me. I'd just as soon watch a foreign language country music opera as watch the NFL for any reason."

He paused and said, "Not even for the commercials?" "Nope," I replied, "I'll just look online tomorrow to see a list who advertised so I know which products I don't want to bother with from now on."

He was flabbergasted. I wrapped it up by asking, "So, when they all knee before the game, do you get on your knees in front of the TV? or do you just hang your head in shame and ponder your white privilege?"

"Man!" he began to answer, "We've really had a lot of snow here..."