We are all a bunch of lucky ducks. While all the world is concerned about war, terrorism, plague, natural disasters and whether the asteroid will hit us, we Americans are focused on whether or not anybody had knowledge that the game footballs used by the New England Patriots were under-inflated.

Not that the issue isn’t of utmost importance. Apparently an under-inflated football in the possession of any team gives them an incredible advantage when they must play in the rain.

And yes, they actually do have to play in the rain. It’s terrible. Personally I consider that an abusive workplace situation. Having to work in pouring rain should not be tolerated. They should go on strike for better conditions. There’s a theory afloat of conspiracy, cheating, mob involvement, alien invasion and temporary insanity. Take your pick.

So for the Super Bowl, security was at an all-high. There are various opinions about why.

We are told the helicopters and military aircraft and no-fly zone was to ensure safety at the event for everyone attending. And that’s probably true. But there’s always that sneaking suspicion that that’s not what it was really about. It may not be too much of a stretch of the imagination to think it was really about guarding the footballs and making sure none were under-inflated. Anything is possible in a world where some people actually paid $9,000 for a ticket to the game.

Now, we were comfortably seated at home with the gas logs burning watching the game on TV.

What’s wrong with that? If we were financially able to pay $9,000 for a Super Bowl ticket, I hope we wouldn’t do it. It boggles the mind. And if it happened, the one who did it could be expected to miss the game due to the emergency sanity hearing and commitment order.

It’s a game, people! A game!

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the game. It’s a harmless enough pastime. It keeps people involved in something they can enjoy together. It’s fun having a favorite team and enjoying a win as if you played it yourself.

But we’re supposed to practice moderation in all things. Not that we do. I’m just saying.

Folks in my family don’t practice moderation in anything. If something comes along to interest us and we want to learn how to do it, we go at it like we’re killing snakes. We become obsessed. We talk about our new interest until we’re avoided by our friends. We want to share our enthusiasm with everyone we meet.

Sometimes these interests are short-lived. Apparently we need a challenge, and once something is learned, it no longer holds its allure and we move on to the next thing. That is unless it actually does evolve into a lifelong interest that enriches our lives in some way.

It’s hard to explain why we love doing some things and not others.

We’ve always had horses. Fowler was at one time a trainer and can do anything with animals. There’s some kind of magical connection. He thinks what he wants them to do and they do it. He’s a wonderful horseman, and it’s inspiring to see him ride across the field. The expression “at one with the horse” could have been invented for him.

Horses are some of God’s most beautiful creatures. I enjoy just watching them, although I seldom ride now. There’s nothing as exciting as galloping full-throttle, but nothing too smart about it, either.

My reflexes aren’t what they once were, and the thrill of adventure does not outweigh the wish to stay alive. So now I stick to my bicycle or kayak. I love the physical activity and being outdoors. I hope this interest will serve me throughout life. And I’ll always enjoy watching a great game. But truthfully, I don’t really care whether or not the football was under-inflated.