Pre-Super Bowl Saturday

As the game nears, I share the following poetry sent to me. It was credited to A.K. Young.

'Twas the Night Before the Super Bowl
'Twas the night before the Super Bowl, when along the gulf shore,
Steelers fans were praying for "just one more;"

The players were nestled all snug in the sack,
With visions of number 7 against the Pack;

Coach Tomlin was young, but wise for his years,
So I drifted off to sleep without any fears;

When at the stadium there arose some strange chatter,
The Packers feared, what was the matter;

We heard "Okel Dokel", we heard "Double Yoi,"
We jumped from our beds, our hearts jumped for joy;

He stood at the fifty with a grin ear to ear,
Steelers fans everywhere started to cheer;

Then in an instant to our surprise,
This little old man had tears in his eyes;

He went to the booth and there took his chair,
While Terrible Towels waved in the air;

Then over the airwaves came his shrill voice,
The Steelers Nation began to rejoice;

He said, "I am back, but you know I can't stay,
I just had to see my Steelers play;

From my home up above, I have a great view,
But I wanted to celebrate here with you;

So bring on the Pack, we'll send them a flyin',
On the way back to Greenbay, they will be cryin';

Ben, Hines, Troy , Wallace and all of the rest,
No matter the outcome, to me you're the best;"

The airwaves went silent, the stadium still,
Was this just a dream, it seemed so real;

In our team we have faith, in our team we have hope,
But the game's not the same without Myron Cope

For want of a ticket...
A woman Steeler fan had 50 yard line tickets for the Super Bowl. As she sat down, a man came along and asked her if anyone is sitting in the seat next to her. "No," she said, "the seat is empty."

"This is incredible," said the man. "Who in their right mind would have a seat like this for the Super Bowl, the biggest sporting event in the world, and not use it?"

Somberly, the woman says, "Well... the seat actually belongs to me. I was
supposed to come here with my husband, but he passed away. This is the first Super
Bowl we have not been to together since we got married in 1967."

"Oh I'm 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 woman shakes her head, "No, they're all at the funeral."

You gotta love those Steeler fans.

A CLOSE SHAVE
Pleasures of life: As we reach “a certain age,” the desire for and pursuit of money fame and power lessens and we take the time to enjoy the pleasures of life. Fine wine, a good repast, and classical music become more important. A good massage is another. Hence, the blossoming of a plethora of massage spas have sprung up over the past decade. All these things are included in my “pamper me” list but for years I have reflected of a time when I enjoyed what has to be one of every man’s fantasy and simple pleasure – a great shave done with a straight razor.

In the 1970s I toured Europe. My purpose was to see the European countryside, trace my roots, and write the great American novel. Well, I did two of the three. I spent several months in what was then Yugoslavia, particularly in the states of Serbia and Croatia and the Dalmatian coast. The word for barber was Frizer, and I discovered that the duties of a Frizer included shaving clients with a straight razor. I would only shave every few days and nearly always have it done by a Frizer. It only cost pennies back then.

As recently as the 1970s barbers usually finished a man’s haircut with a neck shave with a straight razor, but as the barbers became hair stylists. The neck shave, if it was done at all was done with a cordless electric shaver. I longed to go back to Croatia and Serbia if only for the good old fashioned shave.

Last Christmas my wife surprised me with a gift card to “The Art of Shaving.” She told me that they did straight razor shaving so I immediately set up an appointment with Michael. It turns out that not only was the shave every bit as pleasant as the ones I remembered from the Frizer, it turned out that Michael is a master barber and a lifelong Las Vegas resident. He has been cutting hair since he was a teen. Feels like he has been shaving that long as well. Ah, hot towels, warm shaving cream, cool mist afterwards. It is everyman’s delight.

A little blogging music Maestro, anything from www.steelerfightsong.com or "Shave and a haircut; two-bits."

Dr. Forgot