God created heaven and earth in six days and on the seventh day he rested.
See, even God needs to rest so what the heck happened to Sundays. BTW I
don’t think things have been the same since the solar eclipse when the moon
made the sun its beatch. When I was a kid just about every place of
business was closed on Sundays. Maybe there was a local grocery store that
was open for a few hours but not much else so we hung out with family or
friends. Yes we would even drop by somebody’s house unannounced, ring
the bell and visit for hours and everyone seemed to enjoy it. I seem to
remember that all households had a Sara Lee coffee cake on standby for just
such occasions. I guess it could be called forced civility. You couldn’t run
anywhere to spend money because nothing was open. That atmosphere is
long gone and with it went a day set aside for some kind of tranquility, a day
to recharge and get ready for the upcoming week and all the nonsense it will
throw at you. I got a bread machine over 20 years ago and it became a
centerpiece of my Sundays. Here’s the routine during the fall; get up, go to
church, mosque, temple, you pick, and then come home to watch some
football. During halftime I put the bread mix in the machine, hit the button
and fours hours fifteen minutes later voila the whole house is filled with a
bakery aroma. Here’s the deal, I can’t watch those Sunday morning news
shows that are mostly about politics. I just slogged through six days of it
and I know it all starts over on Monday. And now the football field has
become a third rail topic. If you watch any of those awards shows, which
are usually on Sunday nights, they have become a battering ram of political
discourse. I just want one freakin’ day where I’m not confronted with
missiles, healthcare, immigrants, kneel downs, statues, Russia, Equifux and
the platter of other crap sandwiches I know I’ll have to take a bite out of
Monday through Saturday. Football players have every right to protest but
please do it on your own time, the rest of us want to be happy idiots for a
few hours on a Sunday and just watch you bash your heads against each
other. It comforts us.

Gunga, Gulunga,
Garry