Superbowl XLVIII - 21-word short story - Poem: Superbowl XLVIII

Oh no! Philip Seymour Hoffman will not be watching the Superbowl. He's dead! He died of a heroin overdose. The syringe was in his arm. Clean for 23 friggin' years, he got hooked again last year.

He will always remain 46 years old. And has children. Read the Times article.

It's 58 degrees outside. If it were 60, I would have no associations with the number. 

58 is when my dad got sick with brain cancer, and 59 is when he died.

Scott and I walked in the Pennypack this morning. It was so icy we cut short our walk.

OMG! Look who died. Dody Magaziner. She was the guidance counselor when Sarah first went to Round Meadow elementary school in Upper Moreland, PA. 

Mrs Magaziner told me to send Sarah to a private school, she'll never do well here.

I'd tried to get in touch with Dody several years ago but was unable to get the right email address. Oh, I'm so sad. Wonderful woman.

Sarah will be 40 on Feb 7 and is having a huge party in Brooklyn on Friday nite. I'm trying to get a ride there.

I told my Writers' Group I entered a contest. The theme? Write a short story in exactly 21 words.

Herewith:

Some diet! So I wouldn’t gain weight by eating the Cherry Garcia, I ate 16 pretzels dunked in Jif peanut butter.

Spoke to my friend Rob this morning. He's gonna watch the Superbowl over in NJ with his friend Phil Martino and his Phil's mom, Terri. 

Told Rob I was gonna write a poem on the Superbowl and that it wouldn't be easy. Well, it was easy, but is it good?

Scott: Sorry, I just don't think it's all that good.

Whilst we were walking I shared with him an idea I've had for months about a short story that takes place at Pennypack. Tentatively titled, The Heiress, it's about a woman with diabetes who forgets to take her glucose tabs w/her in case she goes low - you can die this way. That's all I'll mention.

Do you know what "XLVIII" means? 48. I goggled it.

Long-necked Peyton Manning, never heard of him until last week. 37 years old. (That's Jimmy Piersall's old no. when he played for the Cleveland Indians.)

Manning is No. 18. 

Wiki - He is a son of former NFL quarterback Archie Manning and an elder brother of New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning. 

Richard Sherman, Stanford U grad in Palo Alto, is only 25. Look at this, according to Wiki: Selected by the Seattle Seahawks in the fifth round of the 2011 NFL Draft.

You never know! Sherman and the other defensive backs have dubbed themselves "The Legion of Boom."

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY XLVIII

Thank you for talking with us,

Tony Verna, inventor of the

Instant Replay. His son, who

worked with him, died of brain cancer

in 2010.

We got here early, helping myself

to BBQ wings and that

Ranch dressing, the wife

takes off for the kitchen, but not

before I give her a pat on her soft

bee-hind, still my woman after

-what? – 31 years, one

miscarriage and two live ones

leaving their daddy and mama

to go up north, hell knows why

Bobby! Another Coors and

he plops in on the little silver coaster

with the ducks flying away

I pat my belly, hardly bigger than

on my wedding day, back at

Camp LeJeune, I’m a lineman,

climb those poles for Verizon and

Man o man! have seen some things!

Squirrels fried to a crisp – they eat them here

in Texas, but not me, no sirree – but I

love my job, refused to make more dough

and be a boss – I’m just a member of the

team, like Manning and Sherman – wonder

how many folks are gonna name their kid

Peyton? That’s Americans for you. God bless

America.

Sure I voted for Obama, in fact we’re talking

about him now, his State of the Union Speech

last Tuesday, the boys say he promised us

everything and delivered us nothing, but, hell,

he’s a good man, got us outa one war; I lay

down my life and the lives of my family in the

Invasion of whoever heard of Grenada.

Oh, the letters they wrote. Dad, I go down on

my knees and pray for you every night, Your

darling daughter Mona. I brought the family

bible and read Thy rod and thy staff they

comfort me. But after all these years I ain’t

told no one this, but you’re all alone in the

world.

All alone.

I put three twenties on the coffee table next

to the salted Planters and tiny rings of

pretzels. “The Seahawks,” I say stringing

some pretzels thru my fingers.

So! I say taking a long sip of the icy-

cold Coors. Let’s take up the God question

what dyou think?

You serious, Johnny? We

just dismantled your president bone by bone

and now you want to discuss the Creator?

Laughter and the wife came out of the kitchen,

her dyed blond hair and green swinging

earrings lookin good. Babe, c’mon sit here

on Johnny’s lap. Why, you’re just plain

drunk, she said, and plopped that soft ass

on my legs and gave me a nice smooch on

the lips.

How many more minutes? asked Roger, in the

swiveling purple chair, wearing an A & M

sweatshirt.

Tee-off, said my wife, is in sixteen minutes.

I mean kick-off.