That's right: I am writing about my husband's favorite sport, football. While I often feel like football games should be about one half shorter than they are, this one should have been non-existent. Phil and I joined his parents yesterday in some choice seats at the Falcon's game in Atlanta. Unfortunately, the only redeeming part of the experience was the company, the new visor Phil bought, and the foam sticks they gave us to wave in the air...or at Phil's face. In addition to the disappointing final score of 31-7, a team that couldn't play offense if they were paid an extra million, and one too many 1-yard plays, I had the pleasure of having the world's loudest fan yelling in my left ear. Nothing like hearing a guy say, "If it weren't for the eye candy, this game wouldn't be worth s***!" Nothing like a football game to make you realize the ridiculous obsession Americans have with entertainment. There's a book that's been around for a while called, Entertaining Ourselves to Death that I've never read but want to. The title says it all.
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