I am embracing Football.

It's my new Black.  Football is the new 30! It is the Sonny to my Cher.

Watching football I don't have to be scolded into teachable moments. If I want a teachable moment, I'll revisit the 5th grade in my mind, thank you very much. I can live vicariously through the fans guzzling beer, scarfing hotdogs, munching popcorn. No food police outlawing alcohol and fat. How refreshing! Maybe I can still get the little toy in my Crackerjacks without being arrested.

I can admire large, physically fit men running up and down a field, slamming into each other and patting each other on the butt. They wear tight clothes too. I can watch and listen to the Announcers who are articulate, funny and passionate. They are all former athletes with lots of stories and very sore knees.  I can check out the weather in the rest of the country: warm in San Diego, snowing in Minnesota, snowing in Pittsburgh, warm in Tampa. Oh and ridiculous in Wisconsin.

Their uniforms are brightly colored and well-pressed. I am not obligated to watch Harry Reid or John McCain run by in shoulder pads. The NFL does not have an 11% approval rating. 

I am momentarily distracted from the fact that America is trillions of dollars in debt that we will never be able to pay off. Instead I wonder how much money each player makes? And are they investing it wisely? And about their wives and kids and proud parents sitting in the stands. I like the little dances they do or give all praise to God when they make a touchdown. How all their buddies run over and slam helmets against each other. How camera men are invariably run over by players and somehow manage to maintain consciousness and not get any broken bones.

I am cynical about the beautiful women sports reporters who are breathless about each play as they interview the coaches and am quite sure they read the cliff notes for football in order to get the job. I admire their makeup and haircuts and wardrobe. [I wonder how much money they make too.]

There are no multi-millionaire politicians with face-lifts and nannies and personal drivers telling me what to eat, how much energy I'm allowed to use, how much money I can make, how much taxes I have to pay and whether or not my Internet usage will now be taxed, spied upon and fined. Instead, I get to watch real life where some people win, some people lose, some people get fired, some stay in their jobs for 40 years and physical fitness is the goal and the vehicle for victory.

I notice things like the facial tics of coaches stressed out. I'm unclear how their hearts manage to maintain normal sinus rhythm while screaming, choreographing their team and getting ice water dumped on them at the end. I don't have to worry about Putin, Chavez, Ahmadinejad. Or the fact that France can never keep her people warm in winter or cool in the summer. That the populace of the U.K., Ireland and Greece are rioting in the streets. That North Korea and Iran are about to go nuclear. That California is more than broke and could take us all down.

No. I have Tebow and Favre and Manning and other athletes running around, screaming and throwing footballs and being mowed down and making touchdowns. And not one of them is lecturing me about Global Warming. Sweet Jesus.

Instead I've got deep fried cheese sticks. Got your game face on?!