I remember the super bowl. Mom used it to cut my hair. Because back in my day we didn't have barbers, only guys whose jobs it was to tell you when you needed a haircut. So then I would go home and ask my mom where to find the super bowl because it always seemed to get put away in a different place every year. She would hand me bus fare and tell me which city to go to, but I never seemed to have enough for a return ticket, so I had to dance on street corners for pennies, except when we went to Sears for new tap shoes. So there I was, standing in the Army induction line wearing nothing but my new shoes when the sergeant came over and told me that I was the new company bugler because the psychologist had written in his report that I knew "Taps", and when I tried to show him my best moves, he got me listed as "4-F" because I tripped over a shoelace, and I had to walk home. A few years later, the war broke out and I was drafted into the Navy, where I learned to cook beans and shoot squirrels, but sometimes I would get them confused, and was FDR shocked when I served him up a plate of Navy beans with buckshot on the side! Them was the days! Me and FDR would have footraces and I always let him win because I felt sorry for him having to wear those glasses and getting called "Four-Eyes" by Truman. But I digress...