No, you didn’t send me to the Super Bowl to watch my hometown Seattle Seahawks launch a football dynasty that will last a thousand years. Most New Times readers ignored my dog Larry’s plea on my behalf for cash so I could buy a ticket. But guess what? I went anyway. By myself. Using my own money. So there.
I want to personally thank the non-skinflints who donated $10 or more toward my goal of $1,500. They are, in alphabetical order: Andrew, Jeffrey (no relation), Margie, Sam, Ted and Tom.
Their $80 has been donated to the CNY SPCA as promised. Feel free to check if you don’t believe me.
But there’s another hero in this story: My dad, Kurt, who lives in a nursing home back in Seattle, which, in case you’re not clear on this, is home of the World Champion Seattle Seahawks.
Dad can be a little scrambled these days, but when I told him I wasn’t planning to go to the Super Bowl because I had no one to go with and it was expensive, he surprised me.
“I think you should go,” he said.
“Really?” I replied.
“Sure,” he persisted. “When are you going to get another opportunity? I’d do it.”
That’s unlike him, in my experience. Let’s call it the upside of dementia.
Five minutes after our chat, I was logged onto parasiticticketscalperswhohavenosoul.com and buying a ticket.
Despite the best efforts of New Jersey Transit and the Department of Homeland Security to ruin the event through brute incompetence, I’m so glad I went. It truly was once-in-a-lifetime, bucket list stuff. So, thanks, Dad. And once again, thank you Andrew, Jeffrey, Margie, Sam, Ted and Tom. Oh, and most of all, Larry. At least you tried really hard, which is more than can be said of the Denver Broncos.
To read Fido’s Plea – CLICK HERE