 How does Ed feel about the Super Bowl?
When they part it's Mom's hand that's on the bag's handle. Michigan in February. The war spills out of Fox News, casualty figures scrolling across monochrome drone footage, attack helicopters circling over Caracas apartment blocks, pundits with bronzed skin and immaculate blond hair smiling from four-way split screens. An elderly couple ride a tandem bicycle through a park, laughing and smiling in Instagram-perfect sunshine, as a calm, relaxing voice lists the potentially lethal side effects of a diabetes drug. Up until then it just seemed like constant warmth, as though she didn't have any childhood concept of Dad apart from him getting home from work, then her sitting on his knee, eating cookies and watching football highlights until Mom came in and scolded them both for ruining their appetites before dinner. It was constant warfare; every opinion she had became a battle, every decision she made a conflict. And then politics got all crazy, weirder then ever, and it became impossible for them to talk without it erupting into fights almost instantly. Since her second year of school he'd never been to NYC to visit her. She came back when she could face it; sometimes for birthdays, sometimes for Thanksgiving. But somehow always, like now, for the Super Bowl. Like football was the one thing they still had, that one thing they could still sit in the same room together for. Dad is in the bathroom, and Sara has had enough of Fox and whichever war this is. It's signed in to her Dad's FB account, and the last thing she wants is to try and log in on hers before he gets back from the john. In her pocket her phone vibrates, purrs against her skin, reminding her it's there, making sure she's not forgotten where her real friends are, that there's a world outside, beyond Dad and his TV. She takes it out and cradles it in her hands, the dark screen fleetingly reflecting back her face before it jumps awake at her very touch, opening up to bathe her in blue light, in comfort and warmth and the familiar. Sara works for a non-profit in Brooklyn that helps big organisations to transition to renewable energy. The material they use to coat them reacts to sunlight, and produces an airborne carcinogen. It's a bit like teflon. "-because they are the world's largest manufacturers of solar panels. I mean, really, I'm surprised you've not seen it.
 He likes the football and the time he spends with his daughter
 He doesn't care for football but enjoys all of the celebration around it  He loves the ads even more than the game  He likes the football and the time he spends with his daughter  It is his favorite sporting event and he would never miss a football game