Calvin and Lawrence, bowls of ice cream ready, in their pre-Superbowl viewing positions.
Watching the Superbowl is a cultural experience. Superbowl ads are like a corporate state-of-the-union address. This year we learned Detroit will sell electric trucks...soonish, the snack and beer industries seem healthy...financially, the cryptocurrency tide has...gone out. Tech companies in general are less ostentatious this year, working hard to strike the right tone following their early-year layoffs.
We almost turned the game off before it began. There was a pregame ad for a bear movie with title-creativity not seen since Snakes on a Plane. I won't name the film here, but its trailer is on the internet. When the 30-second spot ended, I was horrified as my precious 3-year-old repeated its money-line: "That bear really loves cocaine!"
It made me reflect: what is this culture? A culture that can abide domestic violence in pursuit of athletic excellence? One that knows at least some player behavior comes from the head trauma sustained performing these athletic feats? A culture that cannot abide stands against police brutality, or nuanced tellings of international conflict?
I started thinking about that, but then it was kickoff. So we watched the game.
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Another story from this weekend:
On Sunday morning, we went to the park. A little boy Calvin's age was there with his grandmother. We'd seen them before, maybe a year or two ago. I know they live in the neighborhood.
The grandma smiled at me, and I asked her to remind me the boy's name. He and Calvin played together, with Lawrence following along. As we watched from the bench, the grandma asked me about Calvin and Lawrence. To make small talk, I asked if her boy had any siblings.
"Oh no, he's not so lucky."
I thought that was an odd way to describe a family's size. I thought maybe something was lost in translation. Then she continued:
"His daddy died, in a car accident."
And all at once I was watching the moment from a new perspective. Watching three little boys laugh. Watching three little boys chase each other. Watching three little boys and knowing one of them wouldn't get to read a bedtime story with his daddy that night, or any night. All at once, everything else seemed really insignificant.
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I know those two stories don't match tonally, but they're all I've been able to think about this week. I'm holding Calvin and Lawrence extra tight every chance I get. I've never felt so lucky.
Calvin: When the milk car crashes into the gasoline car, that will be funny.
Me: Why is that Calvin?
Calvin: It will make a milk shake!!!
I think Calvin was influenced by the Fast and Furious Superbowl trailer.
​Ironies of Luck by Morgan Housel​
​Andrew Luck finally reveals why he walked away from the NFL by Seth Wickersham​
​Ten Thousand by Randall Munroe​
I wrote a new essay ...or is it a poem? ...A blogpost? ...A new i-don't-know-what about Calvin's bedtime routines.
​Bedtime Prayers​
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Hope you enjoy.
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Until next week, and for many more!
​iamJoshKnox​
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Hi! I am Josh Knox. Read more of me here: 👇
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