“Bless us and save us,” said old Mrs. Davis.
“Joy, joy,” said Mrs. Malloy.
“Mercy, mercy,” cried Governor Percy.
“Saints, preserve us,” yelled old Richard Purvis.

A colleague who has spent his entire ministerial life pastoring in the South, writes:

Once upon a time they came from the East, found a level plain in the Land of Shinar, and built a city where they settled. They were as ingenious as they were industrious. They were all on the same page, given that they were all of the same language.

Later this evening, while the rest of you are finding your way to any number of Super Bowl parties, I will be finding my way to Metropolitan Airport so that Julie can fly back to San Francisco following a whirlwind visit for the funeral of a family friend. So I’ll miss the first half and maybe a little more. But I find myself in the strange position of not caring who wins.