A Bad Idea

6:48

7:27

It’s the day after the Super Bowl, in case you were wondering. The morning is bright and sunny but bitterly cold—nine below—and I’ve already had to change seats twice to escape the glare. One tent is out on the ice, but it's permanent

7:48

7:48

Sunday felt long, waiting for the game to begin at 6:30, so we had to find ways to fill the hours. The morning went by quickly, and the blog was published by 9:30. I didn’t want to sit inside all day, so I decided to walk out to Long Point—a 20- to 25-minute walk. I drove over to the marina, parked, put on my cap and gloves, grabbed my poles, and started out.

Long Point

It didn’t take long to realize I needed to pull my mask from up under my stocking cap. I stopped, took off my gloves, adjusted the mask—and immediately my glasses steamed up. I kept going, unable to read my watch or take photos, until I noticed that much of the path was covered with snowdrifts. At times, my leg dropped into the snow up to my knee. Between the drifts, the fogged glasses, and the wind and cold, it became clear that turning back made sense. It had been a bad idea.

I drove home through Bemus and across the bridge, wondering what it would be like to be stuck there because of an accident. I’m not sure why that crossed my mind—perhaps from all those photos of highway pileups with cars backed up for miles.

For lunch, I had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich and another bowl of cauliflower soup. Evie had already prepared dinner—potatoes, ham, and a béchamel sauce—so we had five hours to fill before the game. I napped briefly and read. Evie watched TV and had a long, good call with our daughter Beth in Dallas.

A Cold But Spectacular Afternoon Sky

Around four, I watched the men’s sensational figure skating, especially the American skater from Virginia, Ilia Malinin, whose parents emigrated from Uzbekistan, where they were competitive figure skaters themselves.

Braving The Cold

We then watched the buildup to the Super Bowl and loved Green Day, especially their performance of American Idiot. The prelude to the game—the flag, the national anthem, the military band, the flyover—was so unmistakably American. We didn’t know the singer of the national anthem, but his understated, honest rendition was memorable.

The game itself was a bit of a bore until late in the second half. I stayed up until the very end, but Evie went to bed after the halftime show. I don’t know much of Bad Bunny’s music—much as I didn’t know Kendrick Lamar’s last year—but the production itself, a paean to Puerto Rico and South America, was fun: lots of dancing, a party atmosphere, and even a couple who got married.

The best part of the halftime show, though, was Donald Trump’s reaction. Because he hated it and called it un-American, we both loved it even more. Apparently, we can’t even enjoy the Super Bowl without Trump intruding on the experience.

On February 7, 2026, President Donald Trump stated, "I am, by the way, the least racist president you've had in a long time," just after posting photos of the Obamas as apes.