Thumbs Up on Sunday
By ice rivers
Okay, I got this. It took awhile but I got it.
Last Sunday I left the teevee off while the national anthem was playing. I went into the kitchen and began by locking my arms together in unity with the NFL, myself, Tom Brady and I guess Trump. Normally when I fold my arms, I have my right hand on my left bicep and my left hand under my right bicep. Today in honor of awkwardness and OCD awareness, I reversed that position.
Now I knew how the other folks lived.
Next I dropped to one knee, in honor of Kaepernick and everything that he was protesting and in recognition of Tim Tebow and the values that he projected. Then I dropped to two knees in remembrance of my altar boy days in gratitude that I don't have any of those sexual abuse experiences that I can remember. While on both knees, I said a quick Our Father in honor of the patriarchy that is the NFL. I threw in a Hail Mary just in case the Bills needed one. I bowed my head made a sign of the cross and whispered "offense. defense. special teams, coaching". I raised my head and said aloud "Go Bills".
Then I went to stand up and realized there was no way that I could get up: an homage to being overweight, out of shape with bad knees, shattered sense of balance, bad hipped Baby Boomer.
I dropped to all fours in honor of dogs everywhere and did a reverse evolutionary crawl as I headed Towards and into the water instead of out of and away from it.
I reached the base of the kitchen sink. I threw one arm up towards the granite countertop. With my arm upraised, I made a fist in honor of black power and then I gave a peace sign in honor of John Lennon. Then I put my other hand up making at one and the same time the gesture for "touchdown" and the "I am powerless sign" in recognition of everybody suffering from an addiction.
I grasped the counter top and pulled myself up in tribute to the concept that "we will rise" as well as the Horatio Alger vision of "pluck not luck". I stood on my own two feet in homage to the Revolutionary War.
I tapped a glass of water from the kitchen sink and poured it over my head as a form of baptism as well as a reminder of whatever we were pouring water over our heads for a few years past.
I dried my hair in reminiscence of the "wethead is dead" commercials that were prevalent during NFL telecasts before erectile dysfunction took over.
I went into the great room/living room/living great room with our vaulted ceiling and open concept. I said a quick "welcome home" to our veterans of foreign war
I hit the remote.
Thank God the anthem was over.
The game was on.