But this isn't a blog about the BCS or even so much football. What makes this special is that Hossmom is in the same room with me. In fact, she is the one I'm ranting to like I'm desperately trying to convince her of my side of the argument. The BCS games haven't even started yet. I think I'm watching the Taint Bowl or some such thing at the moment. But I saw the schedule for what was in store for me later this evening, and I'm not happy about it. I'm not happy at all about it and I'm telling Hossmom that I am not happy about it.
Hossmom is not a football fan at all. She has been forced to learn the game because I watch football but I think that she hates it only second to someone kidnapping her child. Or fish, Hossmom really hates fish.
I digress in my rant about the BCS bowl lineup to begin to question a play call in my current game: Team Edward Vs. Team Jacob. I know I just made that up but I ask you, does it really matter anymore? That's what I told Hossmom but I knew she wouldn't laugh at my joke. Instead, her reply was:
"Hit me baby one more time!"
She sings it with enthusiasm. I continue my rant, this time directed at a nation that doesn't consider cheerleading a sport that should be governed and funded. Don't get me wrong, I don't want my daughter shaking it for the fans. Nope, I would prefer that she wouldn't do that. But I don't begrudge them that as I recognize that it takes true athletic talent to turn a flip in the air and then still land on your toes with a smile on your face. Maybe if my daughter became a cheerleader my whole cheerleader fantasy would end up in the shitter.
Hossmom's response to this particular parental sports related rant:
"Don't cry for me Argintina! The truth is, I never left you."
You may think this is odd, but I am actually digging this.
Hossmom got a new Ipod for Christmas and she is very busy downloading songs that in the mid 90's we got for free. I miss you Napster. She is knee deep in show tunes and Mickey Mouse Club has beens. But I'm good with this because Hossmom has agreed to stay and watch football with me as long as she doesn't have to pay attention or talk to me. But she is present for the rants that this time of year has a habit of making me do. And even though she has her earbuds in, this makes me feel somewhat normal because if you rant to yourself, by yourself, then the next stop is doing it on the busy corner by the gas station. Perhaps with a sign and a tin foil helmet. I'm gearing up for the TCU vs. Wisconsin game, one of the few games that I am looking forward to. I begin to rant about the desperate need for a college football playoff.
"All single ladies! All the single ladies!"
She has started to dance right about the time I get to the Boise State segment of my argument. My feelings aren't hurt. I know that she has no interest in this. But I enjoy having her there with me. She's comfy to lay on. I enjoy boobs, gods pillows for the middle aged married man. Although the hip slap she just executed got me in the face a little bit. I'm hoping that TCU blows out Wisconsin just so the argument of a playoff system will be validated and give me more ammo to rant with later.
"No more I love yous!"
I have to hit her computer here a little bit. I can't stand post Eurythmics Annie Lennox. Some reason drives me up a wall. How can you go from a cool gender bending chick who sang Sweet Dreams to singing love ballads? Didn't she do Lillithfair? I bet she did. I begin to rant about this now. There's a commercial on before my next game, the one that has me really steamed. Think of this as my pregame. Connecticut vs. Oklahoma.
"Of the cross I bear that you gave to me! You, you, you oughta know!"
She's got the fist pump thing going on now. I can dig this, I can get into this. Hossmom likes to get into what I call the "Bitch" song sometimes. It empowers her to fight against the machine. She likes to pretend that she has been wronged by men in general as she sits with her stay at home husband that sacrificed his career to stay home with the children so she could be a business executive. I try not to point out the irony in all this as the "bitch" song gets her slap happy and if there's a drink nearby it has an outside chance of being thrown in my face. But it also makes her frisky and I'll take that every time. But right now I'm deep into the rant of how an unranked team can possibly be in a "championship bowl series" game. It's a joke, it's a travesty. I know why they are there, I know that there are automatic qualifier conferences. I just think it's shit to give us a game where one team is ranked #7 and one is not ranked at all. I tell Hossmom that looking up vasectomy videos on Youtube would be more entertaining and less painful that watching this spoon fed "instant classic."
"Master of the house, quick to catch your eye, never wants a passerby to pass him by"
Yup, we are in full on Broadway at the moment.
This is ridiculous. Oklahoma is having a cake walk. The good thing about owning an Ipod is that they are portable. And I have just discovered, as I am technologically challenged, that they play the radio now. This is fantastic because the tin foil hat that I have just crafted should let her pick really good reception as I go down to the corner of my local 7-11. Hossmom does a complete little twirl and the rock hand in the air as I grab my sign.