Pull yourself away from those Super Bowl commercials. It’s time for some adverbs!
When I was a kid, I would often dismantle various broken household items. It could be anything from a clock to a calculator. I never aspired to be an engineer or any such thing; for me the draw was always looking at the clever ways the little pieces fit together to make the bigger thing.
A few weeks ago, one of the kittens caused my Kindle Keyboard to break. It wasn’t her fault. She jumped off a dresser where I had set it – out of its case, stupidly – and it fell onto the hardwood floor, cracking the screen. Yesterday I decided the time had come to take it a part. In case you’ve ever wondered, this is what the inside of a Kindle looks like:
…is obviously Super Bowl Sunday. I was rooting for the ’49ers, but running back Frank Gore’s hateful comments about gay men in the NFL has me ashamed to root for his team. Since the Ravens are the only team I hate, I don’t care at all who wins. I’m just gonna make my pizza and nacho dip and open the Sam Adams Octoberfest I’ve been saving and enjoy the game.
But I can’t hit the Sam Adams too hard.(1) Ashley and I have to wake up early and drive to Pittsburgh for a transplant check-up. We were supposed to go last December, but it’s taken us this long to figure out how her health insurance has changed since we got married.
This is why I get so pissed at people who are rabidly against universal healthcare. My wife shouldn’t have to make different choices about her healthcare simply because she chose to be my wife. Her marital status doesn’t make her any more or less a human being, and a U.S. citizen, in need of long-term, specialized care. In fact, we considered never legally getting married just to make sure we’d be able to afford the healthcare she needs. No one should have make those kinds of choices, and I, for one, am completely willing to pony up more tax money to prevent others from having to do so. And going through the hassle we’ve gone through in the past four months. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.
Except maybe the Baltimore Ravens. And Frank Gore.
- Or the food. The last few Super Bowl have resulted in what I can only term a “food-hangover,” which is basically like a real hangover but with more time spent on the toilet rather than over it.