February 7, 2021. Playa Royale, Mexico. The Super Bowl.

Perhaps this evening we should call it The Bust Bowl. I like a game with high scoring and good plays. I hate penalties. I like the game to be competitive so either team might win the game. Todays there was nothing to like. It looked as though the Varsity team was playing the Junior Varsity. The game this evening was a bust. Ken and I have watched every Super bowl. The first game was played when we lived in Galverstn, before the boys were born. We had no television so we were invited to the home of our friends Lenore and Bev Ittman. They had three children, all teenagers and all active. And they rented an old house in Galveston. I worked with Lenore, she as a teacher and I a recreation therapist in Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. Lenore and Bev were great fun as were their children. And they were busy. They also paid no attention to their house. Now in Galveston, in order to keep your kitchen free of roaches, you were forced to be fastidious. No one in that house paid no mind to the kitchen. During the middle of the game, I walked into the kitchen to get more food. I turned on the light. I could see the bugs scurring around trying to hide. And I could hear them, the same sound as you hear when scratching on the wall. I turned off the light and returned to the game and told Ken that we did not need more food. I never entered the kitchen again. I have seen every Super Bowl. I have been to big parties and small parties and in homes and restauraunts. The first Super Bowl was the most memorable, not because of the game but because of the roaches in the kitchen. I learned to make noise and turn on the lights before entering the kitchen of an old house. I still remember the noise and the motion. Yuck.