Friday at the pub:

- So, Greg, what are your plans for Superbowl Sunday?

- Uh...well, to me, it’s just a Sunday.

- You don’t watch?

- No.

(Embarrassed silence.  Then, a clattering of chairs as people move away several feet.)

Saturday morning at my place.  Professional beefy guys come by to fix something:

- So, man, who do you want to win the game?

- Sorry, you’re asking the wrong guy. I don’t tune in.

- What? I mean, okay, you’re not into sports.  But what about the commercials?

- Yeah, I was tricked into watching the game a few times because of the whole commercials thing. But then I realized the big secret: it’s not a one-time deal. They’ll actually recycle those commercials on regular TV for, like, weeks.

- (Laughs) I think you’re on to something there!

Sunday. Text message from Sarah B.:

- “DID YOU SEE [CHRISTIAN] BALE IN THE BATMAN BEGINS TRAILER?”

- (Replying) “I dont do the bowl!  But will download.”

Later: Trying to jog.  Notice police helicopters overhead.  Radio transmissions cut into my iPod:

- (crackle) That’s right, we’ve got a lone male, apparently out for a run.  He’s not inside watching the game. Will continue to monitor.  Completely expect that he will soon rendezvous with terrorists or communists.  Good thing, too—Philly’s getting trashed and that makes my trigger finger mighty itchy.