Since I was on the cruise last week during SuperBowl and wasn’t able to post (actually, the ship charges per minute to use the internet, and their internet’s SLOOOOOW), here’s a little post-post, or postscript.

A man had 50 yard line tickets for the Super Bowl. As he sat down, another man walked down and asked if anyone was sitting in the seat next to him.
“No,” the first man says, “The seat is empty.”
“This is incredible,” said the second man. “Who in their right mind would have a seat like this right on the 50 yard line for the Super Bowl, the biggest sporting event in the world, and not use it?”
The first man says, “Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven’t been to together since we got married in 1987.”
“Oh…I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s terrible. But couldn’t you find someone else, a friend or relative, or even a neighbor to take the seat?”
The man shook his head. “Nope, they’re all at the funeral.”

Men and their priorities. I’m glad mine put his priority on me during the Superbowl and we were having the formal Captain’s Dinner in the dining room on the cruise during the Bowl. Not that the maitre’d didn’t keep announcing the scores over the loudspeaker through the dining room anyway. Heh.