So. Sunday.

 

I woke to learn that Punxsutawney Phil had indeed seen his little rodent shadow, and that means – for “Phil-ievers” at least – six more weeks of winter. As I live in sunny southern California, you may be surprised to learn how bummed I was by this news. It’s all about connections, friends. All that bad weather being tolerated by other parts of America means no rain for L.A. This is supposed to be our rainy time of year, but the gal-danged jet stream (or something or other) has bypassed us completely. So our rain has become everyone else’s bitter cold. (This is a gross oversimplification, I know. Don’t judge.) I empathize with those of you in the bitterest winter regions. And I hope your recovery will be warm and swift. Unfortunately, this year is highly unlikely to provide any recovery for us. Drought conditions are already intense, and the forecast is for much more damaging dryness. Before you say we deserve it, for having had such a mild winter, let me remind you that a great deal of the food we all eat comes from California. Farmers are already being warned about coming water shortages, and I’ve yet to hear of any solutions. All of this to say: Punxsutawney Phil really let me down.

 

I then learned of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s overdose. I didn’t know the man or anything, but I loved his work. He was the kind of actor who could get me to buy a movie ticket simply because he was in the danged film. He was my age. And now he’s gone. He left behind 3 kids and his partner of 15 years. They will probably never understand their loss. Any thoughts I may have about his heroin overdose are moot, unimportant. Besides, I don’t know a damn thing anyway. I only know an actor I respected is dead.

 

And then there was the matter of that football game. Y’all, had the Broncos competed on a level anywhere near that of the Seahawks, it would have been an entirely different experience. Would I have still felt the disappointment of defeat? Of course! Would it be as soul-crushing as it was? Is? Probably not. I mean, I can’t know for sure, but I think I would feel a bit better about the loss if my team had actually shown the hell up. I know, I know: you live by your team and you die by your team. Well, I died after the very first play of the whole danged thang, and I’m still barely resuscitated.

 

So Sunday wasn’t what I’d hoped. Thems the breaks. And you know what? I’ll deal. I’ll cut back on my water usage. If necessary, I’ll let my lawn die. It’s only grass, and I’m super glad to have that viewpoint as water restrictions will soon be enforced and dead grass may very well be the outcome. But again, it’s only grass. As for Philip Seymour Hoffman, he left behind a beautiful body of work. And if I ever want to see one of his films, I can. He also completed a few films that have yet to be released. I look forward to his final works.

 

As for the Broncos, well, anyone who’s a sports fan knows what I’m feeling right now. You understand I’ll be okay. Eventually. You understand that I’ll have all summer to get over Sunday’s Superbowl beating. And then, Lord help me, I’ll start anew all over again. Here’s hoping the next go-round is a live by your team kind of season.

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