Super Bowl XLII: What To Do? Or Not?

Some of us don’t really care for sports. Some of us even actively hate certain sports. Like football! Football sucks!

Really, I hate it! I don’t even know who’s playing in the Super Bowl and please don’t tell me. I don’t care. Especially if it’s the Eagles.

In this town, hating football and admitting you hate it will get you looks that range from befuddlement to horror to rage. And, more often, pity. Most of the time people will ignore your statement of hatred in the same way they might ignore a very loud and public fart and continue blathering on about first downs and tight ends as if you never said anything at all. I swear this is true. There are few sins in this town full of sinners greater than hating football.

The problem for those of us who hate it is that football is generally difficult to avoid, but on Super Bowl Sunday, it’s practically impossible. Stay in your house and you hear the cheers and jeers coming from the houses nearby. Bars have every TV tuned to The Game. Restaurants often close because no one goes out to eat.

Any suggestions out there for a Super Bowl-free Sunday? Because, frankly, other than bars without TVs, I’m stumped.

[Mr. Foobooz is in no way implicated by the above statement of hatred. It’s just me, I hate football, all alone. He’s normal.]