Monday, February 6, 2012


I'VE DONE IT MORE THAN ONCE. Super Bowl Sunday is rated almost as high as Christmas or Easter or Halloween, I fear. I don't know what that says about our culture but I'm totally out of step in this reverence for sports. Only in the last few years has the realization of the coming event entered my mind.

In the book business, it's a tricky thing to stage successful autograph sessions with authors and illustrators. We had some good ones in my time, but other times when I sat and visited with the dignitary just because there were few people there to get books signed. It's even happened with some well-known people. Rosemary Wells, who is about as high on the children's author/illustrator ladder as one can get, sat for minutes at a time with no one but me to talk to.

One year I scheduled a little known author to appear on a Sunday afternoon at the store. I don't know at what point it dawned upon me what I had done in arranging it for Super Bowl Sunday, but suffice it to say that no one came. Oh, maybe one or two did, but it was a tortuous day as we sat there honoring the time we'd announced for her appearance. It went on and on and on, into infinity. When she was gathering up her things to depart, I said that perhaps we could reschedule an appearance? and she opined, "Yes, maybe on the afternoon of the Oscars." Mortification.

Then a couple of years ago I did it again. Susan was visiting from Alaska and I wanted to arrange a gathering of family and her friends to greet her. Darned if it didn't turn out to be the same Sunday as the Super Bowl. How could anyone do it twice in a lifetime? There wasn''t another available Sunday, so I fell back on the old saying which I absolutely love, "If you can't hide it, paint it red." That seems to be the theme of my life. And when you stop to consider it, it works pretty darned well.

In the room for entertaining at the Manor there is a television set, so sports fans could watch to fracas on the field while the rest of us visited. We served sporty snacks and it all worked out quite well, actually.

But I'll try never to make that sort of faux pas again, Twice in a lifetime should be plenty enough. And yes, one of us watched it on television yesterday, the other was on the periphery, lurking. All I came away with was a wish that my stamina could halfway match that of Madonna's. 

Being in politics is like being a football coach. You have to be smart enough to understand the game, and dumb enough to think it's important.
                                                                                                                    Eugene J. McCarthy 


  1. Funny....What an awful time for that author. Love her sense of humor with that snappy comeback on another date in the future. It sure is amazing to see how the super bowl day is built up in such a way that for 4 hours on one Sunday, business slows way down. Glad you had a little for everyone this year. There is something delightful that happens as people talk of their super bowl feasts....Yum yum. I made chili, veggie soup and a salad. Yum. Stocked up for a week of meals. And a 10pt. Weight watchers portion of lemon meringue pie as desert! At least you remember super bowl events and have fun stories to tell.

  2. Super Bowl? Television? None of them for me!
    A Non Y Mouse But, glad that yo had a good time. " )

  3. Oh, I'd have been the same way, since Superbowl Sunday never meant that much to me, Jane. I'd have been one of the stragglers who came in and actually met the author! Although Superbowl Sunday has been on my radar ever since my son was born on Superbowl Sunday in '77. Needless to say, no one came to visit me in the hospital that day, which suited me just fine. I was exhausted!

  4. Once again, we are of the same mind....rusti

  5. Susan H writes: That was such a fun party, Super Susan Party. The food was wonderful and all the people that came to say hello. What a great day. I'll always remember as Owen was leaving the room, Susie Russell shouted, "I love you Owen" and without skipping a beat he shouted back, "I love my mom"