Sons Of Anarchy

I know of no better way to enjoy the Super Bowl than by NOT watching it. The whole inconsequential spectacle of over-paid, steroid-riddled, prima-donnas chasing a ball around is not for me. And cheerleaders for professional sports, what a ludicrous ruse! Take all pro sports and knock it off its pedestal! Sports are to be played, not watched unless your grandchild is on the field. And take those so-called creative commercials to the dumper too. There, I feel much better now.

I spent Super Bowl Sunday in front of the TV all right, watching a DVD of season 1 of Sons Of Anarchy that our friend Tony brought over. The FX Network show is a finely written, well acted slice of the lowlife. Imagine if Andy Griffith was tight with the Hell's Angels, but there is so much more. There are great characters who are put into situations that make them show what they are made of. We watched all 13 episodes straight. A little sliced Kroger cheese bought on special, some crackers and popcorn from our friends at the food pantry, and just two bottles of Moerlein Emancipator Doppel Bock that I treated myself to by putting off buying coffee. They call it "a robust dark lager crafted for the season." Delicious! A Cincinnati treasure!  Ya gotta chew it before ya swallow it, and thick dark hair immediately sprouts from parts of the body where there previously was none. For me, that's not many newly hirsute body parts, but you get the picture. Good, simple fare, great commercial-free entertainment, a good pal's company, and my old lady by my side. Life is good.  Tonight it's Dave Brubeck's Hits on the turntable (you know: Take Five, Blue Rondo A La Turk, etc.) and another bottle of that Moerlein Emancipator as I post this blog.  It's almost enough to make me forget those phone calls I had today with school administrators and debt-collecting lawyers.    Here, what do you think of these pictures I took?

Here is a pic I took of a special biker.  This one is for Lili!

Bikers were welcome at our bar.

Go, Johnny, Go!