First off, I feel obligated to offer an apology to any actual rats reading this who may be offended at having been compared the cretins I am about to describe. I am sorry. You are furry, four-legged semi-intelligent rodents who really don’t deserve to get lumped in with the dregs of humanity depicted below.
Do we really have to claim these idiots as part of the same race as us (I mean the cretins, not the rats?) What? I can ask, and in a minute you’ll see why I want to.
I made a thoughtful and deliberate decision to step away from the heartbreaking Newtown, CT shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School. It is too close to home, my own babies too close to that age, my own community too similar, filled with loving, brave souls doing their best for our shared future, our kids. No, anything I wrote would be too emotional, too sappy. Better to sit this one out.
Then came the idiots to town…
One of my blogging friends has a blog he calls “A View From The Middle” as in middle class. His name is John and he is a much more prolific blogger than I am (I bet he types faster, too). He touches on lots of subjects, but we have a cross-section in the areas of music, he highlights some cool stuff, and politics. ( His go-to’s are compassion and kindness- I like it.)
Here is his latest blog… and why I am moved to comment now:
I am, as I often say with pride, sixth generation San Franciscan and half Irish. For a mutt such as myself, I have surprisingly strong roots. My mother is three-quarters Irish, my father one-quarter (the other quarters being: French, German and Italian- pick your alcohol, we have your party covered). My family helped plant trees in Golden Gate Park, built the great bridges, melded the railroads into Southern Pacific (my grandfather was one of the first computer programmers), we were firemen and policemen, nurses and laborers, we designed & engineered the Hetch Hetchy Water Project (Google Michael O’Shaughnessy, O’Shaughnessy Boulevard is named for him). Sadly, I couldn’t work out a way to have my children in SF so they are simply seventh generation Californian, which is still something special, and all Forty-niner Faithful.
My late and very dearly loved maternal grandfather, David Sullivan (whom our own David was named for, and the above mentioned computer pioneer), was one of the original Forty-niner Faithful, walking to Niner games at Kaiser Stadium, before they moved to the new and very windy Candlestick. My father, Robert Gardner, was born, raised and lived in San Francisco and rooted for the Niners throughout my childhood. There were whole decades of heartbreak for the Niner fan of the fifties, sixties and then the seventies. Finally came Bill Walsh, Golden Joe Montana and the West Coast Offense.
As I am prone to do, I have digressed, but it was for a reason. I am establishing my, and my family’s, bona fides. If there was ever a family who has a stake, and will forever bleed for the Niners, um, sorry, step back, this is our town. So, when my boys were facing the Patriots, hoping to clinch their play-off berth, the stakes were pretty flipping high and instead of getting my football fix that afternoon, I had to wait for an evening game- OMG. Suspense? – Oh, yeah. Heck, I even made pulled pork sandwiches- it was game day, baby!
That being said, when NBC made the call to switch to the President’s speech, do you think my mind was on football? Well, okay, to be honest, maybe for a couple of seconds, but… I’m only human.
Let’s be clear. NBC made the right call, the classy call, the humane call. Here is what has me beyond angry…
Here is where the rant starts…
First of all, you cannot be real Niner Fans, because no Forty-niner Faithful would behave in such a reprehensible way, and frankly, I’m willing to bet that the Patriots won’t claim you either. Now, I started with “First of all”, but I am so angry that I cannot even fashion my tirade into alphabetical points… so you will get metaphorical bullet points. Be glad that those are the only bullets I deem appropriate, you furfuraceous protalgia. Go ahead, look it up (I got that one from my husband, one of the zillion reasons I adore him- his judicious use of the English language).
– Babies, BABIES, died for no good reason, no reason at all. Six-year-olds, seven-year-olds, first graders. Tears are welling as I type those words.
– Families, communities, will never, ever be the same for the tragedy that touched and forever changed them that day.
– Adults, women, rushed to their charges’ defense without any thought as to their own safety or the possible outcome, they simply ran to help. Teachers died, their bodies seeking to shield their students’. Reports speak of screaming and then, complete silence, because every first grader in the room had been killed, struck with multiple bullet wounds.
If I am laying it on thick it is because apparently, somewhere in NFL-land there are IDIOTS, multiple IDIOTS that were pissed because our national tragedy got in the way of their God-given right to drink beer, belch and curse at men on TV. Some even had the audacity to Tweet, “Why am I watching a black man when I should be watching football?” Um, excuse me, the smartass inside me HAS to ask, who are you watching when you watch the NFL. Einstein?”
I give you, again- The Darwin Award Nominees:
And this goes beyond the fact that these imbeciles feel that interrupting their football is like committing heresy, they then turn around and insult our Commander-in-Chief. Really? Dropping the N-bomb?