A few days ago, I bought two pounds of thinly sliced rib-eye at Wood Dale Market in order to make Pat’s Philly cheesesteak sandwiches for our Super Bowl party.

Our party is one of a million parties. A million get-togethers. A million potlucks.

There is no escaping the Super Bowl. No escaping it whether you watch the game or skip it. The outcome is not as important as the income. What you eat, how much you laugh and who you are with.

Super Bowl is a freebie. A gift. A day that comes with a money-back guarantee that you might not have to exercise.

That Sunday is the slowest day of the year. Not slow in a bad way. Not slow in a boring way. Slow in a satisfying, “not have to go anywhere or get there in a hurry” kind of way.

If all of our days were this long and slow, we’d remember more of them. Enjoy more of them. Celebrate more of them.

Watch the game or not watch the game. It doesn’t matter. Super Bowl is an idea. The idea that many of us in this country will be doing the same thing at the same time. For one day, we can agree on something. Share some camaraderie.

Football is a crazy sport. Crazy dangerous. Crazy intense. Crazy popular. If you can accept crazy, even for just one afternoon, football can be crazy good on TV.

The networks have emptied the vaults in terms of technology. Talk about eye candy. The camera angles, the clarity and the graphics are better than any other sport or show.

However, even with all the glitz, football may not be your thing. That works too. When are the hiking trails, ski slopes and movie theaters more deserted? The town is empty but not empty. People are here but have given themselves over to a Super Bowl devotion. It’s like church but your pastor is watching right along with you.

I’ve done both. Watched and not watched. Resisted and given in. Given in but not completely given in, which means watching the game over my shoulder while trying to stay busy and productive polishing shoes, folding laundry and sweeping the patio.

Now I just give in. Sue too, and she could care less about the game. It’s an excuse to have a party or invite ourselves to one. Gather, share and eat. Instead of being productive, it’s a chance to veg out and do little or nothing at all.

Sue suggested we make Pat’s Philly cheesesteaks. We went to school in Philly and this was an ode to the past and a nod to the Eagles.

The recipe calls for Cheese Whiz. Cheese Whiz? Why not. It’s the Super Bowl. A day to set aside your best intentions, your better judgment and your sense of propriety.

Dessert is cannoli, tube-shaped shells of fried pastry dough, filled with a sweet, creamy filling usually ricotta. Cannoli is a Philly thing. A Boston thing. An East Coast thing and now a Super Bowl thing.

The game starts at 3:30 p.m. Before then, a walk might work. A bike ride. Or maybe it’s a day to do nothing at all. A free day, your day and any kind of day you want.

Herb Benham is a columnist for the Bakersfield Californian and can be reached at hbenham@bakersfield.com or 661-395-7279.

Outbrain