Never done this before; wish I had. But having done it now, perhaps a pattern started. Could be shallow, could be silly, could be the result of boredom. But it is not. It has been a source of insight, a gentle nudge in to the emotion fabric in my life. Think you know? Take a guess or two…what am I talking about?……….okay, here’s the answer: previewing the Super Bowl commercials. There are two that have brought into my selfhood such truths…and what’s important. Watch for them.
The first is the Budweiser commercial of the little puppy getting lost then returning. Diane and I have two puppies, although they each would cringe to hear that description: Faith our English Cocker Spaniel and Caleb our Cavalier. They mean so much to us…and to each other. Perish the thought they cannot be together…and in buying a new home in Austin, they are part of the decision…to find a good home with a back yard fence. Because in some ways, especially Caleb, they could be escape artists. The Budweiser commercial really got to me…which in a way is surprising because I’m not…nor have ever been…a beer drinking guy. Here it is:
And then the Toyota ad about being a good father. That really hit home…how my father cared for me…in a thousand ways. He was always there…my first baseball game pitching as a freshman in high school. Before my first pitch I looked over beyond the first base cyclone fence and there he was…overalls because he just finished his garbage-truck-work for the day. He stood taller than the Douglas Fir tree against which he leaned. Then for the first sermon. Then for losing my first Spring Chinook Salmon. The ad, though, zoomed to my own relationship as father to Matthew and Andrew…and in hopes that the “being present with love and not judgment” carried the day for each of them. To raise the question for each of us: how are we as a parent, a mother or father…or as a son or daughter? All from a couple of Super Bowl ads…and yet in their own way, connecting to some substances of walking the human landscape. Here’s the ad about being a parent:
And all this without stating anything about the football game. Okay. Someone will win. Someone will lose. But, in my own lexicon of living, the winning or losing is not as important as the giving—fully of energy and commitment. Sure. Preachy. But down deep I trust that response is not shallow.