Separating the Whatever from the Whatsis

Yesterday, we watched the Super Bowl.

Only one of us cared about the outcome – that would be our thirteen-year-old sports fan. Even though his beloved 49ers weren’t in the game, he wanted to watch.

So, because we love our son, we watched.

It’s football. You know, football. Two teams of players smashing into each other while one tries to get the ball to their end zone while the other tries to prevent it. There are other nuances; our 13-year-old could tell you. At length.

It’s different than when I was a kid, idling through the living room when the game was on – back then, I had better things to do. Or so I assume it was different. Maybe it was absolutely the same. I wouldn’t know.

But I might have an inkling.

I don’t remember any politics or whatnot coming into play. I don’t remember whisperings about what he or she did the last time they performed at the halftime show.

Today, it’s hard to separate the whatever from the whatsis.

Want to advertise your trucks and put a little emphasis on service organizations that happen to have your trucks in common? Borrow text from a Martin Luther King Jr. speech (with permission from the people holding the purse strings, naturally) and play it.

Then forget the collective memory of an aggrieved people – or at least the fussbudgety with internet access, and see you same ad re-cut with a different section from the same speech, and see how it plays with the masses.

Separating the whatever from the whatsis is no longer possible.

Our memories may not be any longer or shorter these days, but with the Internet, one can spread those memories – those opinions – those nonseparations of the whatever from the whatsis with ease.

Back in the day, you could have a show like The Brady Bunch set during the Vietnam Era, but have it never mention the war.

Nowadays, even the commercials during premier sporting events have that social conscience. Or pseudoconscience. Until the collective memory catches up to it.

And the message on one level may appear helpful. Hopeful. Or hurtful, looked at from another point of view. Through another lens.

Enjoy the humor of Bill Cosby or the g-rated stuff produced by Louis CK but don't want to deal with the baggage both men carry with them now? Good luck separating the whatever from the whatsis.

Can you watch a football game these days and separate the whatever from the whatsis? Can a thirteen-year-old enjoy the sport without worrying about who knelt during the national anthem and why, and why some want the behavior ignored, others want it applauded, and others want it outlawed?

Ask the thirteen-year-old.

Yes. Yes you can. But you’re aware. You’re aware of what’s going on. And you have friends and family and other influencers who help you shape your opinion of the matter.

But then you watch the game. You watch the missed passes. You watch the sacking of Tom Brady and the turnover that likely cost the Patriots the game. And you marvel that this was the Superbowl with the most offensive yardage ever.

And you tell your parents that night that you’re leaning toward basketball – you play church ball, you see – and aren’t really interested in trying out for the high school team next year.

You switch gears. Because you’re a thirteen-year-old who knows there’s a whatever to separate from the whatsis, but there are also games to play.