Cinderella Rules

First, the bad news: You are not Cinderella.

Further bad news: Neither am I.

The good news is that Cinderella lives in a perfect ever-after world, since the shoe did actually fit, and all that nonsense. This is the ever-after that no one included in the story. This is the ever-after that includes being totally qualified, but age-challenged. This is the ever-after that includes absolute political correctness, so that we're not "too old", we're just too darned focused on past experience.

Now, if we had documentation of that past experience, it might pull some weight with today's awesomely fair, iPhone-enabled, management generation. Our downfall is that we didn't document any of our experience with raw data. So now we have nothing but reputation, which counts for nothing in a world dominated by Excel spreadsheets. After all, reputation is now a matter of context.

Anyone can fake an Excel spreadsheet. Oh no...so documentation is also meaningless? Where do we go from there?

The Super Bowl

First, a disclaimer: I know nothing about football, other than it involves someone's foot and a ball that is not shaped anything like a ball. It is a game played on a field (which isn't really a "field" at all, but part of a multi-acre tract of prime real estate, encompassing mostly on-ramps, off-ramps, parking, and other non-game related uses).

Football is entertainment, but boy they sure make it look like war. The "players" present themselves like mean, intimidating, "in-your-face", "take-no-prisoners", fighting machine, heroes. Chasing a ball, that is not shaped like a ball at all, on a field, which is not a field at all, on television. Grrr....(oooh!) Grrrr....

The players wear cute tight pants. We called them panty-girdles when I was in high school, but add a stripe down the side of the leg, and presto! Football pants. Topped with way big t-shirts stuffed with shoulder pads. (We wore our big brothers' shirts and stuffed our bras with kleenex...it's the same concept, just different body parts.)

Now for the helmets. It reminds me of us girls in the '60s when we curled our hair using jumbo rollers, and then covered the whole mess up with a brightly colored, glorified hair net. It was made of nylon, with elastic to hug your head. So the effect was this big bouffant headdress that made it look like nothing was going on inside your head. Very much like a football helmet.

Why do people love football? Just listen to the passion, the enthusiasm, the sheer joy of the attendees. You don't hear that kind of enthusiasm at church, even though eternity is at stake. You don't hear that kind of passion at a county commission meeting, even though personal freedom is at stake.

You do hear joy like that at rock concerts. You hear that enthusiasm at rock concerts too. Hmmm...rock concerts, football games.

Just for fun, ask 10 people at random tomorrow...who played in the Super Bowl? Ask them who won? Ask them to describe the best play. I bet you will have a 20 minute conversation with each person.

Then ask that same person to name one of their Senators or Congressmen. Ask them to name the Governor of your state. Ask them to name one signer of the Declaration of Independence (other than John Hancock). Ask them to name the authors of the four Gospels.

Interesting, isn't it? That we have been programmed to pay attention to the Super Bowl. To memorize the stats, and glamorize the players. To look forward to the ads, to celebrate the competition...and hate the opposition. We are encouraged to worship one team or another, to idolize the players. Like the Greeks, idolizing their gods; or the Romans, idolizing their gladiators.

I wonder what it would have been like if the Greeks or the Romans would have had instant replay technology. Slow-motion HD instant replay might have changed history.