So, I bought a bed on Saturday. I went to four places, spoke to four salespeople, headed home to watch Northwestern hoops, and returned to the third to make my purchase. I feel pretty good about my performance. So that's pretty exciting, in it's own way. I'm hoping I can finagle use of a coworker's pickup and, well, pick it up, during the week. Otherwise, it's a Saturday delivery. That is, one more week of sleeping on the floor.

So that's news.

I also cut my hair and shaved the 'chops completely. To be honest, I look a little silly. I never realized how odd-looking I was until I spent two months unable to see half of my face, I guess. Perhaps we'll just let it - all of it - grow for the next six months. The Ring Fingernail mountain man look. I'm not sure.

It's been an odd weekend, only because I realized that I am, in actuality, completely uninterested in the NFL playoffs. Is it possible that I'm only actually interested in the NFL for the purposes of following the Chicago Bears and playing low-stakes fantasy football (net profit: $65 this year. Cha-ching!)? Yeah, I think it is.

On Saturday, game one was generally uninteresting - Indy and the Chiefs. I finished watching Northwestern's awful second half against Michigan, and then started flipping through the channels for other college hoops games. I wound up not really settling on one and then, after 12 minutes of Oklahoma-Texas, I realized that the NFL was on. I half-paid attention, then watched the second quarter on the treadmill. I don't know what I did for the second half, but I know it didn't include paying any attention.

On Saturday, game two was generally interesting, though it included two fading teams. Dallas lost to Seattle on an incredible botched field goal. Tony Romo couldn't hold onto the snap, and that was it. So, anyway, the end was a pretty interesting sequence: a late-game drive by the Cowboys, a controversial too-generous spot that would have given them first down inside the three, an official's review and reversal of the too-generous spot that resulted in fourth down, the botched field goal, Seattle taking over inside their two, a punt out of bounds, and a failed heave to the end zone to end the game. So I guess I got the basics of what was happening, but I actually stopped and watched one play - the failed field goal. That was it.

I then went out with a friend I worked with this summer and her boyfriend, a Cowboys fan in for the weekend. I dollar-Moosehead-ed him back to health, thankfully. I then dissuaded him from heading to the ballpark to... well, I won't say. But we went home instead.

To me, today's first game was the most interesting entering the weekend. The Jets and the Patriots, and I've enjoyed watching the Jets offense (L. Coles was on the fantasy team, so I had an eye on them while watching the Bears at the bar this season), and I kind of enjoy the Pats-Jets subtext, and I don't enjoy the way people fawn over Tom Brady, mostly because I get bored of people. So I watched part of the first half on the treadmill, and spent most of the second half cleaning or reading or napping.

And now, during the fourth game, I'm writing about how disinterested I am. Though I was just interrupted by a very nice phone call from The Boy. (And there was just a fantastic Eagles drive and a game-winning field goal, but I didn't see any of the drive, just the field goal.)

Is there a point to this? Probably not, but there's never really a point to any of this.

Well, I guess the point is that I'm interested in my teams - the Cats, the Bears, the Cubs, the Tiges (?), the Bulls if I think about it - and I can probably be convinced to watch a late-game situation involving individuals or teams that are inherently interesting - LeBron, or Johan Santana, or ... Darren McFadden - but that's probably it. (Actually, I can watch just about any college football game, and I particularly liked Arkansas this season.)

That said, I still read Sports Illustrated cover-to-cover (except for auto racing and, depending on time constraints, hockey) on a weekly basis.

Yeah, so no point to this.

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I'd like to tell you about a grownup decision I just made. I was doing laundry, which is a teenaged decision, or perhaps even younger, depending on the pre-teen's maturity level. And then I was folding laundry, and I noticed a bunch of old undershirts. Tattered necks. Like, torn around the neck. And I thought, I'm a grownup. I just bought a bed. Why should I be wearing undershirts with tattered necks? I shouldn't. So I threw them out. Then I threw out some old socks, or some without matches. Shirts with disgusting armpit stains, however, I kept.

It's been a pretty grownup weekend, I guess. I dissuaded a friend from heading to his old place of employment to ... well, I won't say. I bought a bed. I trashed old, dirty clothing. I made the mistaken decision to shave and get a haircut. I slept til 11 today. I drank three Miller High Lifes, just because. All grownup things.

(I was going to make an off-color joke about all my kids, whose names I don't know, here, but I decided that would be offensive.)

- - - - - - - - -

I was reading my last post yesterday, and I realized that my whole political post-Saddam execution riff was probably over the top.

The juxtaposition at fault:

We know what [Saddam] was responsible for. Or, we've got a sense of what he was responsible for, and it was all heinous stuff.

But what's "Our Guy" been responsible for?

That's over the top. I don't like war in general, and I don't like "Our Guy's" ill-conceived and horribly-planned war in specific, but that went too far.

That's all I've got.