This Is Why I Won’t Unfriend You

unfriend“I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.” – Thomas Jefferson

Something has been really bothering me for a while, and I have to just unload.

There is no surprise that we are a nation divided on so many levels these days. We can’t seem to find common ground on many topics. From religion to politics to the war of words between each other, there is an undercurrent of “I’m right, you’re wrong.” There are no disagreements between people anymore, as differences have evolved into “wars.” People have become entrenched in their camps, drawing lines in the sand, seeing everything in black and white, allowing no room for gray.

For the umpteenth time in several months, I have seen people post statuses on social media, and then request of their friends and followers the following: “If you don’t agree with _______ (fill in the blank), then unfriend me.”

Wow.

Whether it is political, social, religious or whatever, the premise is that if I, or others, don’t believe in their cause or with their opinion, they don’t want my friendship online.

But I also take that as they don’t want my friendship. At all. Period.

I take umbrage with that.

I am blessed that I have a huge family and many friends and colleagues. If I have sent a friend request to someone, or accepted an invitation from another, it is because I value the person and want to be in contact. I want to share in their joys, accomplishments and celebrations, offer support during tough times, commiserate about the weather, engage in dialogue, share recipes or great places to dine, see what is happening in their lives. I want to see photos of their family, vacation, garden, artwork or how much snow was dumped in their corner of the world.  I want to read their blog posts, or read what they found interesting or enlightening. For me, there is a connection with the individual – online and offline – and I feel privileged to be a part of that friend’s life.

But I am growing weary of the the “un-friend” me requests. I may not share your religious, social or political views. I may not like your favorite animal or artist or movie or music. I may not like your haircut or the way you clean (or don’t clean) your house. I may not like the state you live in or the hobbies you have or the car you drive. I may not like the charities you support. I may not like that you don’t support charities. I may not like the joke you shared or the beverage you drink. I may not cheer for the same team you do or like your stance on something or agree with your parenting views.

But I like you.

With all our differences of opinions. With everything that makes us completely different or polar opposites. We have a history. We have shared life and secrets and dreams and conversations.

I like you. My friend.

Why do we need to be in complete agreement on everything in order to remain friends? Why do our differences – or our perceived differences – have to be the end of a friendship – online or in person? Is it easier to let people out of our lives with the click of a mouse than over a meal at a local diner?

Maybe we can just chop our online friend lists so easily, because we see each other as a status with a profile photo and not for who they really are – a living, breathing person.

If I were to unfriend someone each time we didn’t see eye-to-eye, I would be posting statuses and photos for my own enjoyment.

Go ahead and unfriend me. That’s okay. But for the sake of friendship, I won’t unfriend you. Because with all that is wrong in this crazy world, we can’t have too many friends, whether we are in agreement on all subjects or not.

What do you think? Share in the comment section. If this post resonates with you, feel free to share with others.

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

 

Help! I’m Addicted to Taking Personality Quizzes!!

“A lady likes to be complimented on her looks, her eyes, her figure. But the personality comments are much appreciated.” Betty White

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-19-22.44.37.jpg.jpgI have a confession to make. My dirty little secret is now revealed: I am addicted to online personality quizzes. Whether it is food or character comparisons, I have been busy checking boxes and learning my true person.

Oh, the shame!

It started so innocently – and recently, too. If you dabble in Facebook, you may have seen posts from your friends, sharing the results of quizzes taken on BuzzFeed and Zimbio and the like.

Anyhow, what started my online test-taking addiction were the posts my friends shared, showing the results of their “Which Disney Princess Are You?” assessments. (Snow White for me, if you’re interested).

And so it began.

A few days later, when I saw posts on the next popular character quiz, I took the “Which Big Bang Theory Character Are You?” Bernadette, if you are asking. And, ironically, my hubby was Howard. Guess that means we are truly a match made in heaven, as the two characters are married on the show.

Anyhow, I found another quiz, and another.

Guess what – now I am hooked.

My obsession continues. Just yesterday, I had to find out, “What Kind of Food Are You?” Apparently, I am cheese, as I go with everything, and I can be mild or spicy, depending on the mood. The Downton Abbey character I resemble the most (just in personality, thank you very much), is “Mr. Bates,” which is cool, as he is a stand-up guy – loyal and reliable.

But, wait! There’s more! In my online personality assessments, where I am really, truly finding myself, I have learned that:

  • I would be a president worthy of a place on Mt. Rushmore;
  • If I went back to high school, I’d be in the Drama Club clique;
  • The “Celebrity Diva” I’m a close match to is Tina Turner – a woman able to rise to life’s challenges;
  • In current cultural trends, I find myself a “do-it-yourself” kinda gal (please reference Lynne’s Lab!);
  • If I were one of the Pink Ladies from Grease, you would call me Sandy.
  • If I were a font, I would be Times New Roman – “a constant, reliable, secretly sexy classic. Just look at those serifs!”
  • The city I should be living in is Paris (Should I have my spouse take this test? Do we need to list the house and call “House Hunters International” for relocation assistance?)

All in all, the results have been a pretty accurate assessment of me. It is rather entertaining, to say the least, and hubby and I have had a lot of laughs taking these quizzes together. (By the way, he’d make a Mt. Rushmore-worthy POTUS, too.)

There is a little bit of science and a lot of fun packed into these personality tests, but I am convinced that maybe, just maybe, my addiction to these quizzes has nothing to do with finding the real me, and everything to do with surviving the winter doldrums:  the record cold temperatures and snow fall, the crazy cabin fever and the Polar Vortex syndrome. Seriously, being the stuck in the house has pushed me over the edge. So knowing that I am generally happy, nice, loyal and tough has been a good thing. It is nice to know I haven’t gone crazy – yet.

I am sure come spring, when I spend more time outside in the real world, my addiction will cease. But in the meantime, if you are looking for me, I am busy trying to find myself…

🙂

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

Have you taken any of these quizzes? What were your results? Let me know in the comment section.

 

Keeping the Fire Burning – Against All Odds

anniverary post

“Keep the fire lit in your marriage and your life will be filled with warmth.”-Fawn Weaver

This past August, my husband and I celebrated a milestone in our lives – our 30-year wedding anniversary. Three decades! Over 10,000 days being married. I’d calculate the hours and days, but that may overwork my calculator!

Of course, our anniversary was an exciting observation for my spouse, myself, our children and our parents. I wish my dad had been here to celebrate, but I know he was smiling from heaven. I remember when I was a little girl, he stated that he would choose my husband. And when I shared with Dad that I was engaged, he was ecstatic. At the time, my soon-to-be-husband was stationed in Alaska. He proposed to me over the phone, and I received my engagement ring via UPS. I had to pry the package out of Dad’s hands, reminding him that it was addressed to me.

My husband and I met on a blind date, arranged by friends of ours, who had just met in college. Home for the Christmas break, my friend and her boyfriend described three of their friends they wanted me to meet. I chose the soldier, who was home on leave, and who was stationed 14 hours away via plane. Why? Well, should the date be a disaster, the possibility of ever running into each other again was incredibly slim.

Of course, we hit it off famously, and our story began.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Separated for nine months, we planned a wedding from afar and learned a lot about each other through letters and very expensive phone calls from the mainland to Alaska. After we were married, we lived a fairly routine military life: many moves, two children born in different states, then out of the Army and back home. Two more children entered our world, then the 9-11 terrorist attacks changed our family’s world – and back to Army life, this time as a Reserve family.

Our life together has been dotted with challenges: job losses, financial pain, military deployments, burying loved ones, disappointments.

Our life together has been amazingly blessed: Four children, the addition of our oldest children’s spouses, granddaughters, laughter – lots of laughter – strong faith, survival of the tough times, weddings, birthdays, graduations, confirmations, baptisms, seeing our children’s talents, watching them grow into amazing adults. Hands-down, we would say, “I do,” all over again.

As we got closer to our anniversary, I started reading blogs and comments about other long marriages. I wondered if there was any “secret” and if so, how did my husband and I rate among these folks. Honestly, I became depressed. The more I read, the more I witnessed pain and despair from people in long marriages, ending their lives together. Twenty, thirty, even forty years. I kept reading, trying to see why those couples fell apart, and panicked: could that happen to us?

Straight up answer – yes, it could.

Realistically, it could happen to anyone. And with the stress of a military marriage, just like the stress in any other high-adrenalin occupation – police, firefighters, etc. – a couple’s odds of marital failure are increased. Families of first responders and families of the military deal with fear of injury and death – for the most part on a daily basis. There is physical separation, missed holidays, lonely anniversaries, solo-parenting at special events – the list is endless. Additionally, these families deal with injuries, PTSD, loss of colleagues and other job-related issues.

So, my quest continued. Is there a magic formula for keeping it together? How do some marriages last, and others unravel? At some point in any relationship, there are bound to be arguments, hurt feelings, betrayal of trust, financial distress, illness and disease, and a host of other problems. So, I kept reading articles, blogs and commentaries. Some stories were so profoundly sad, and others – less in numbers – were inspiring. It seemed that there was so much negativity toward marriage, I wondered why anyone even bothered.

Recently, though, I have started to see some encouraging blog posts. One was from a man who was divorced, and he laid out a plan for other men to follow. It went viral, as he described how he hurt his spouse, and what he’d do differently. Another recent post was a young man whose father gave him advice – basically, that by treating your spouse well, your spouse will reciprocate. In a nutshell, treat others as to how you want to be treated – age-old advice that is true in any circumstance.

Out of all my research and reading, I did not find any one particular piece of advice for sustaining  a long-term marriage. From what I gathered, mutual respect, trust, love and forgiveness were some of the key components. Noteworthy were the articles and books about how men and women think and view the world in different ways, and many times not understanding our differences makes for difficult times. I think that respecting each other and our differences goes a long way in better communication – another key ingredient to strengthening our vows. And from a few folks in the medical community, the need to understand, acknowledge and support the physical and emotional changes men and women go through during their lives, especially mid-life, is another critical area of focus. And, of course, supporting each other’s dreams, careers and ambitions help bolster the couple.

As a military spouse, our families are subject to frequent separations due to training, temporary duty assignments and deployments. In fact, in the past eight years, my husband and I have spent four wedding anniversaries apart. Service members leave home, and the spouses are left behind to keep the home fires burning. Whenever I hear this phrase, I picture a pioneer woman, literally keeping the fire burning – handling her role as well as her spouse’s. It brought to mind a metaphor, and I believe, it sparked an a-ha moment – a frequent occurrence lately for this mid-life writer…

Marriage is like a fire. It starts out as a spark, and as the flame grows, it becomes hot and, sometimes, unpredictable. Once it settles down a bit, it becomes “perfect.” The heat begins to level off, and the fire is soothingly warm and comfortable – somewhat predictable. However, it still needs to be tended. Add a log or two, and it will keep burning. By becoming complacent, and carelessly letting it burn down too far, there is danger of the fire going out. However, even if there is just a little heat, the embers, which are cooling down, can be regenerated. It isn’t too late to save. Stoke it, add a little oxygen, then add another log, and the fire will return. It may need some prodding, but with patience and time, the flames will grow. Is it easy? Not at all. One can easily forget to toss a log on the fire when busy and away from the fireplace. It can become a hassle to keep the fire burning, but if it isn’t attended, the fire, at some point, will die out.

It isn’t easy to be the tender of the fire. It takes time, and sometimes there is only one person to keep it going. But, when it is well-tended, the rewards are amazing. There is warmth, comfort and light. There is satisfaction of keeping it going, even through the difficulties and the moments that it seemed impossible.

And, ultimately, there is joy in sharing something so very precious, so very life-sustaining, so very comforting.

Do you have any thoughts on how to keep a marriage strong? Any favorite metaphors? Feel free to leave a comment.

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

 

 

 

True Confessions of a Not-So-Famous-Blogger

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-12-16.13.29.jpg.jpgIn the very wee hours of the morning, as I was mulling over (and over) a few blog post ideas that were swirling around inside my head, the proverbial light bulb clicked on and I was faced with the realization that I am not your average blogger.

This all began at 5:21 a.m. this morning, when I woke up to write the words to a poem I have been working on all week. I have never gotten out of bed to write something down – ever – but I will do so from now on.

Anyhow, as I tried to fall back to sleep, writing thoughts kept popping in my head. Then my creative thoughts turned to a self-assessment of why it takes me forever to write a blog post. A lot of ideas come to me at inopportune moments – like while in the shower (soap crayons for notes?) or while I am trying to sleep. So it doesn’t help that I can’t remember the complete book I have written while shampooing my hair. But I digress.

But it has been bothering me that I can’t stop what I am doing, fire off a quick post, share it for the world to see and dive back in to life. I see bloggers churn out post after post and my feelings of inadequacy take over in my head, like a mushroom cloud that forms when the dust rises after a bomb detonates. How do they do what I can’t seem to do? 

Apparently, I am just not wired that way. I need a long, well-thought process, inspiration, and more thinking.

Maybe I put too much thought into my writing. Maybe it is more of an artistic, therapeutic, method of madness than anything else. Most bloggers have a theme – fashion, finance, parenting, grand-parenting, food, diseases, going-green. Not me – my ramblings cover it ALL! Why make it easier on myself, and just go with one idea?! Why can’t I just write, post and publish? No, I have to develop an outline, then write a  first-draft, a second draft, let it “simmer,” re-read, and scrap it all and start over again, then have my husband and daughters read for content (then for check errors if I decide to publish). Except for today. Oh, and then I have to take the perfect picture to accompany the text…

That’s why (a good excuse, anyway) I don’t have a blog post up on a regular basis. And so that is why SEOs and Google searches and others haven’t found me yet. I am at the mercy of my artistic self that is bucking the algorithms of digital success.

As I tried to go back to sleep, by now it is 5:55 a.m., I became more comfortable in the realization that I am a not-so-typical blogger. And, if there are other bloggers that go through this insane process, then maybe, just maybe, they will appreciate my new-found descriptive category:  “The Starving Artist Blogger.”

Not that I write about fine art – yet (just give me time…why not add another category!) – but each post that I write has to be inspired. It may be about parenting, or it may be about knitting or faith or grief or a recipe or a news event or what ever speaks to my heart. Like painters who see something that speaks to them, and then express their feelings onto canvas, I see or hear something that speaks to me, and have to write about it. Eventually.

An artist takes their time to get everything just right – the colors, the textures, the mood, the lighting. One can’t just create without a thought process. Hours are spent visualizing and thinking and sketching.

And I do the same thing. But with words. I am sure people think I am aloof, but there are times that I am writing in my head as I stand in line at the grocery store. Maybe I sound like an airhead when I mix up the words that I am trying to speak, but it’s only because on the other side of my brain, I am trying to keep the words for my essay alive in my head until I can grab a pad of paper and a pen and jot it all down.

Currently, my “art”studio is my laptop in the corner of our home office, with a stash of yarn peeking out from behind a filing cabinet. It isn’t real inspiring, at the moment, which is why I haven’t painted the next Mona Lisa or developed a great knitting pattern – yet. However, in my artist brain, I will one day have the perfect studio cottage, where it is summer year-round, filled with books and paints and pencils and fabric and a little kitchenette stocked with essentials like coffee, tea, chocolate and wine. The summer breezes will gently dance with the gauzy draperies covering the big picture window that offers a view of a lake. My herb garden will be in full bloom, and I will be writing my novel as my painting dries on a vintage art stand in the corner.

If someone could look at my blog dashboard, they’d see several blog posts sitting in the draft mode, waiting for some TLC before I hit publish. (Oh, disclaimer – my closet is filled with unfinished knitting projects, and a few book outlines are stored in there, too, somewhere…) It’s not that these works won’t ever get finished, it is that they aren’t quite ready to be revealed to the world.

Oh sure, some day I hope that one of my blog posts goes viral. Is my wish any different from an artist hoping for a large crowd at a gallery opening, the place filled with smiles and laughter while photographers run around to capture the moment with the dazzling guests, each raising a cocktail in a toast to the host?

Well, my soul-searching ended with the alarm clock ringing at 6:30 a.m. this morning. I got up, had my coffee and digested the fact that I am just an average blogger. I am not massively successful with thousands of readers re-posting every profound word that I write. I can embrace and accept my “Starving Artist Blogger” status. After all, it’s only my creative genius that’s getting in the way of my virtual success. 🙂

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

Are you a “Starving Artist Blogger?” Let me know in the comments below.

Memory Lane Meets Abbey Road

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-07-21.55.04.jpg.jpg

When the Beatles made their debut on the Ed Sullivan Show, I was a toddler. It would be a few years before I truly understood who and what the Beatles were, and how they impacted our lives musically. And, who could forget the Beatles cartoons, or lunch boxes or any other Beatlemania memorabilia.

I was about eight or nine years old when “The Long and Winding Road” and “Let It Be” made their way to number one on the charts. I absolutely fell in love with those two songs, and to this day, they are still my favorites.

As soon as I hear, “The Long and Winding Road,” my hands-down, absolute favorite Beatles tune of all time, I am instantly transported back to early summer and my dad’s gold Buick. He was so proud of himself, because he was, in his words, “hip,” with his eight-track tape player, white shoes and new Beatles music.

Maybe that is why I get misty every time I hear that ballad. Not only do the lyrics move me, but the music is beautiful. The moment I hear the first few chords, I am instantly transported back to a simpler time; in my childhood home with my larger-than-life father, alive and well.

Several years ago, my parents took a trip to England, and they had a wonderful time. My mother told us of all the places we needed to see should we ever get the chance to go.

Well, March of last year, was my chance to go.

I flew solo to London, as my husband was stationed in the UK at the time. I packed my clothes and shoes into my dad’s luggage – the same suitcase he had used years before when my parents made the trip. Checking my bags at the airport, I smirked as I thought, “Hey Dad, your bags are making the trip again.”

Titchmarsch

Out in the midlands, a good hour away from London, I had the experience of a lifetime, living in a quaint English village. The scenery was out of a storybook, and my husband and I traveled to as many places as we could in the two weeks I was there. Of course we sought out the traditional fish and chip dinner at a centuries-old pub, and some had some other wonderful foods – likes crumpets, bubble-and-squeak and, of course, crisps. I was fascinated by the trains, taxi and Underground subway system. The traffic rounds and driving on the wrong side of the road took a bit of getting used to, and I can’t tell you how many times I tried to get into the passenger side and found a steering wheel in my way.

I was in awe that I was in the homeland of literary greats and the Queen Mum. I fell in love with England – the accents, the customs, the people.

Big BenThe weather wasn’t the most agreeable during my time across the pond. But the weekend we chose to tour London was perfect – sunny and warm. We walked miles and saw Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The Eye of London – all the tourist hot spots. Two of the last “must-sees” on our London list were Harrod’s and Abbey Road. But we were quickly running out of time. We didn’t toss a coin, because my husband and I knew what we would choose.

We chose Abbey Road.

Beatles Coffee ShopNow, it simply wasn’t a matter of walking from the grounds of Buckingham Palace to St. John’s, where the famous Abbey Road Studios and cross walk are located. We had to find the correct Underground station and change subways routes a few different times to get to our destination. (Oh, by the way, when they say Underground, they mean it! I had no idea how deep into the earth we were as we traveled through London!)

We exited the subway station, and went to the Beatles Coffee Shop at the entrance. Without even asking, the owner handed us a map and sent us up the street to find Abbey Road.

What an amazing experience to walk the path that the Beatles made famous. Yes, we had to be concerned that we’d be hit be a car while snapping photos. Yes, we took many shots of us crossing the street, plus photos of Abbey Road Studios – where music history was made. We weren’t alone in our walk – not only were there plenty of tourists, we sent a text to our daughter, back home in the States, and she actually watched us crossing Abbey Road live, real-time, on a web cam. Think about that!

Abbey Road

It’s hard to believe that crossing Abbey Road was such a highlight for my husband and me. But I guess it makes sense, when you think of how the Beatles impacted our lives, from the time we toddlers until even now. It was really awesome to walk that part of history, where Memory Lane meets Abbey Road.

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

What are your memories of the British invasion? Have you ever crossed Abbey Road?

crossing Abbey Road

Part of the Midlife Boulevard blog hop.

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The Elephant in the Room

Full disclosure: I am participating in a Vibrant Influencer Network campaign for Depend. I am receiving a fee for posting; however, the opinions expressed in this post are my own. I am in no way affiliated with Depend and do not earn a commission or percent of sales.

“What I feared was the onset of incontinence was simply a mid-laugh crisis.”Venita Louise

A little humor can go a long way when dealing with life’s challenges. But the topic of incontinence isn’t funny for people who suffer from the affliction.

The condition is rarely mentioned, because let’s face it, it is embarrassing. But, millions of Americans have bladder control issues, (also known as incontinence). The condition can affect anyone – not just older people. Bladder control issues can also affect young people, particularly women who have given birth or men who have been treated for prostate cancer. For those who suffer, their lifestyles can be greatly affected. Many sufferers feel like they are prisoners in their own homes, fearful to go out in public in case they have an accident. Sometimes, a sneeze, cough or a laugh can put enough pressure on the bladder to cause leakage.

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-05-20.42.51.jpg.jpg When I was first asked to write about incontinence and Depend® products for my blog, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring up this delicate subject matter. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, “why not?” Though I don’t suffer from this, maybe some of my readers do. And if they don’t, maybe they are caregivers for someone who does suffer from bladder leakage.

 

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-05-20.44.05.jpg.jpgI received a package of Depend® underwear for women, and opened the contents. I was really surprised at how thin and lightweight they are, and how flexible the material is. Made with Lycra®, the garments look like they would be comfortable to wear, and everyday movement could be done with ease. These products could easily be worn under one’s regular clothing and not be detected. Depend® Underwear with Flex-Fit® is available for both men and women, plus there are other leakage-control products available: light, moderate and maximum absorbency levels.

Years ago, when I had a conversation with my doctor about a health issue, he gave me some very sound advice. To paraphrase him, “When your quality of life is affected, that’s when you know you need to take action.” After reading and researching about incontinence, it pained me to know that so many people had given up things they loved due to bladder issues: socializing with friends and family; sports and exercise; travel and more. Many who suffer incontinence also suffer from self-esteem issues and shame. As technology and materials become more user-friendly, it is good to know that health aids, such as Depend® products, could make a positive difference in someone’s life, allowing them to return to the activities they enjoyed.

Depend® has posted videos on their website, featuring the personal journeys of people with bladder control issues and highlighting how these products made a difference in the quality of their lives, giving them the freedom and confidence to get back to living. Here is a link where you can watch their inspirational stories.

It is reassuring to know that progress has been made in the development of good products to help with bladder control. If you, or someone you care for, is experiencing incontinence, check out the full line of Depend products by visiting their website, where you will also have an opportunity to request a free sample. The website also offers links for “Community & Support” and for “Caregivers.”

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

I hope this review was helpful. If you have any questions or comments, please post in the comment section. If you feel this information will help someone, please feel free to share this post.

The five reasons I will not participate in Super Bowl Sunday

football

If you didn’t know it already, it is Super Bowl Sunday. One would have to live under a rock to not know this, as marketing teams have constantly reminded us of this all-American tradition as soon they finished hyping-up the after Christmas sales.

I will be honest and disclose that I never really “got” football. Even though my husband and sons played the sport. Even though my daughters cheered and pom-pommed. Even though I have leaned on my gal-pals to explain the game in chick-terms. The whole “downs” thing confuses me. As a writer, I think they need to change the term for clarification (and so it isn’t repeated more than once in the same sentence), but, that is just my editorial opinion.

Last year, I helped my youngest daughter host a Super Bowl party here at our house. We had pizza, snacks and make-your-own super bowl sundaes – cool play on words, right? Everything was going along well, until the game started. Well, not the game as much as the commercials, where I had to explain to the young ladies about marketing and sex and advertising. Then half-time came along, where I had to explain that true talent doesn’t need to be sexed-up; for this next generation to not fall into the trap of using their bodies and not their minds and talents. I was horrified that a few blocks away, my son and his pals were watching the same crap – and hoping a parent was there to be a buffer. And then more sleazy commercials aired, so many that the girls felt “awkward” watching – among themselves and me. The girls turned the game off, and watched a movie. I went into my office and wrote a blog about our adventures.

This year, I am blogging ahead of the game, but not so that I can watch the game. My post is explaining why, after all these years, I will no longer participate by watching the Super Bowl games.

Reason number one that I won’t watch the game: the commercials.

As a college student back in the day, I watched the Super Bowl to see the commercials. As a journalism, advertising and marketing student, I studied intently – looking at the psychology, color, placement, music – the whole package. Now, as a parent in the midlife phase, I watch commercials and get disgusted. It is the same old business model. The pharmaceuticals say how wonderful a drug is, then list a boatload of side effects to the point my mind shuts down. Occasionally, there will be a cutesy, clever or funny ad.

But most of the time, we have the classic bare-it-all ads. Apparently, sex sells, because it is used to sell everything from cars, chips, beer, food, clothing, shampoo, websites and anything and everything else. Last year’s Hardees/Carl’s Jr. ads were beyond seductive – they were outright pornographic – using an airbrushed model having an orgasm eating fast food. Seriously – is the food that good or was she just faking it?

I digress. Back to my rant. I find all these sexually provocative commercials boring. Done and done. Madison Avenue, put on your creative thinking caps and come up with something new, something creative, something innovative.

Reason number two that I won’t be watching the Super Bowl: the media hype.

My top will blow if I see one more recipe, one more commercial about the game, one more special interview, one more headline, one more Facebook or Twitter reminder.

Reason number three that I won’t be watching the Super Bowl: the money.

I read a blog post by financial guru Dave Ramsey. The money spent on this game, between tickets, travel, commercials and snack food is beyond obscene. Read about it here. Though I am happy the local economy hosting the game will get a boost, I shudder thinking about the little ones here in our own country who will go to bed hungry tonight.

Reason number four I won’t be watching the Super Bowl: exploiting women.

Yes, I said it. Probably not popular, either. But, with the young ladies selling themselves in the commercials – and on the streets – my mind goes to how are women supposed to be taken seriously when we still have those who confirm we are nothing more than a set of body parts. Not to mention the kids stuck in the human sex-trafficking rings here in our own country – and abroad. For an eye-opener on sex-trafficking, read this article.

Reason number five I won’t be watching the Super Bowl: values.

The values of the promoters and participants of the Super Bowl are not in line with mine. I will continue to support football on the high school and college levels – for the moment – because at the time, there is just a love of sport with the players. There is passion in the game.

I am sure I will be declared an odd-ball in this rebellion, and my not participating won’t change a thing. But for me, I will at least feel that I didn’t give my stamp of approval for what this game has become to me – a bore.

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

What are your thoughts? Have you grown bored with it as well?