the shadow that passed the sun

The Giants won in the desert. They beat the Patriots. Very few people expected this to happen. I watched the game with friends at the Polish American Club over in the Mission. Much celebrating followed the Eli Manning miracle. The room was mostly Raider and 49er fans but by the end everyone was pulling for the Giants with almost reckless fervor. Beer was spilled and not a few of us lost our voices. America loves an underdog, especially when they are from New York and play defense like they were guarding a pill box on Saipan. How do you beat a bully? You hit him harder then he has ever been hit and then you do it again and again. You keep him from breathing. Yes, you could say I loved Super Bowl XLII. And through the game I paced because I was anxious to see what would happen next and also because I was dead dumb ragged useless tired. See, for reasons unknown but relating to Nada Surf, being soaking wet, hanging out with people that were soaking wet, Jameson and the darkness, I had only slept a few hours the night before. Instead of dozing the morning away on my couch I watched Mythbusters and counted my blessings. Better to be alive and tired then sleeping while feeling dead. Freedom came at a price you might say. For that pound of flesh you pay the dollar.

And Nada Surf? Awesome. Good band, good set, dry venue, recital setting, figure it out! There wasn't a person in the room that didn't know every little bit of the songs they played, the intimacy belied further intimacy and I'm sure plenty of people went home from the show feeling closer to connected with those they were with. It can happen that way when the variables cancel out and decisions are made about desire and not only the need for urgency. Let's not bother to beat around the bush, let's not mess around with what might of been. Let's find our way home and let's find each other's hand.