Monday, February 07, 2005

What I Daydream while watching the Superbowl

I like to think that there's a guy who works for Champion, the company that makes all the hats and t-shirts that have "World Champions" on them. And I like to imagine him right after the game, holding two hats in his hands, one that says "World Champion New England Patriots" and one that says "World Champion Philadelphia Eagles." And, so, now that he knows who's won, and he sees on TV that their merchandise has all been delivered to them so that they can wear it in their post-game interviews, I like to imagine that he takes the Patriots hat and goes into his son's room and lifts up the glass cover of an empty display box and sets that hat inside it next to dozens, if not hundreds, of other memorabilia he's saved over the years for his son. And, then, I hope, he takes the Eagles hat and makes his way down his rickety basement stairs, past the paint cans with just a little paint left in the bottoms, across the cement floor to a little wooden door. And, I hope, he flips on a switch, opens that door, and enters a neat little room, with clean carpet and a big comfy chair and heat and humidity control. And, I hope, that in there are floor to ceiling shelves full of hats and t-shirts of all the teams that could have won every single important sporting event. And I hope he carefully and tenderly puts the Eagles hat on one of those shelves. I hope there's some guy who tends to all the histories that had to be planned for but didn't quite pan out.

4 Comments:

Blogger the Professor said...

That is the world we all like to imagine; however, (given the state of intellectual property rights) we all know that the laws regarding material property rights are even older and more esstablished, less up for discussion. So, he can't do that. It's written into a contract somewhere, a contract that is valid for all eternity. If even just one of those losers turns up on ebay, then no one has a job anymore. So to save them requires immense amounts of trust in himself and everyone who will possibly eventually have access to the secret room. It also requires trust in himself, because - despite that fact that you and I refinish nice antique furniture and don't (want to) live in ostentatious houses - most people can't keep secrets that would amount to their wealth and/or fame. Keeping all that alone in a private room is just no fun for anyone. It is a nice dream; sorry I felt compelled to spoil it.

2/07/2005 10:22:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

But you can't spoil it, because, though I didn't specify it in the post, his name is Schrodinger and he has a cat.

So, as long as the door to his room is shut, we can't know whether or not he's kept his job.

It's like the girl your brother knows, who sits on the bench and goes to work.

2/07/2005 10:30:00 AM  
Blogger Derek said...

And there is no Santa Claus, or Easter Bunny, or Tooth Fairy sneaking under your pillow. And the world is a dull and drab and dreary place, full of dull and drab and dreary people leading lives of a sort you can describe in three adjectives or less.

Until we start to daydream.

2/07/2005 02:18:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Derek, I was with you right up till that last line.

2/08/2005 03:50:00 AM  

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