Of Rats and Snakes

[Note from the profussor: The following was written immediately after last night’s big game.]

My belly is tight. Yes, I’m full. But this is different. The skin on my belly is taut. I believe what I am suffering from is commonly known as a food baby.

The Super Bowl plans went surprisingly well.

With nobody around, I was able to focus on both the game and commercials. And without that kind of singular focus, I might have missed the botched national anthem and probably the subtle power of the best advertisement in the game. It was the only spot that ran in the 21^st break (towards the end of the 3^rd quarter), and it was for a car company.

I could talk a lot about the commercials, but this is not my advertising blog. So instead I’ll share something a little bit personal which might help you to understand how I got into this situation to begin with, and how I keep on doing this to myself year after year.

And it has to do with the stars….I think.

Most of my life, I thought I was a Sagittarian. Recently I was informed that my new astrological sign is Ophiuchus. Which means that perhaps my mother was right, and that I should have been a doctor. I will admit though, that I am a fairly competent interpreter of dreams. Subtext is a passion of mine.

But I’ve always felt a stronger connection to my Chinese zodiac.

I was born the year of the rat. And I had a teacher once who described it to me in this wholly unappealing way. Now I must confess, I have no idea if this is true, but this is what I was taught.

Rats have an unusual trait, which is that their front teeth never stop growing. It’s the main reason people associate rats with gnawing on things. Rats are compelled to gnaw. Their gnawing keeps the front teeth filed down. If a rat stopped participating in this activity, its teeth would continue to grow, ultimately piercing the lower jaw, which would result in starvation and death.

This teacher of mine had a thing about death. Mrs. L was the coolest teacher ever.

Anyhow, as someone born in the year of the rat, I was told that like my zodiac animal symbol, I gnaw away at life. And more than anything else, I find that to be not only appealing but comforting.

Certainly I have proved that I gnaw away at food.

Like the night a couple of weeks ago when Young Master Fussy decided he didn’t like cheese grits. Seriously, what kid doesn’t like cheese grits? But I was determined to finish his portion. I abhor waste. The only problem is that cheese grits are heavy, and I had already eaten my portion in addition to some hearty black-eyed peas with smoked pork. Still, with the steely and steady determination, I slowly made my way through his bowl, bite by bite.

Mrs. Fussy doubted my capacity and my resolve. But I persevered. Much like tonight. Although to be honest I didn’t make nearly as much of a dent in the pizza and the beer as I expected.

As Roger Murtaugh famously said, “I’m getting too old for this shit.” But I say that that every year. And truth be told, in some ways I feel that this year was more moderate. Regardless, I will continue to gnaw through the annual rites of the Super Bowl, as I have gnawed through all of the challenges and obstacles that have come before.

Congratulations to the Green Bay Packers and their fans.  The team played a good game and pulled it out in the end.