It’s Friday morning, and I’ve woken up after a good Thursday night belly laugh. Aussie rules footy season is on again in Australia, although this is not what I consider real football (Rugby Union)!!  Anyway, most of my friends know I don’t really love Aussie rules footy, and have only followed a team through absolute loyalty to a girlfriend whose son was playing in the AFL. However, the last 2-3 years I have been watching and enjoying The Footy Show on Channel 9, in part because of Sam Newman. He is almost definitely sexist and chauvinistic, but I bet if I went on a date with him, he would behave like a gentleman, open the door for me and pull out my chair. He’d probably even want to pay the bill, and would not use foul language in front of me because I am of the female species. But back to the footy show; it reminds me of Australia in the 60’s, where life was much more fun, much less politically correct. The Footy show is really just a group of blokes having fun and a lot of shenanigans, with men AND ladies in the audience laughing and joining in. Lads, albeit grown up ones, being lovable larrikins, who also know a lot about Australian rules football. My husband says it is all he needs as confirmation that I actually do have dementia as there was no way I would have even watched this show a few years ago, and liked football even less. Yet now he finds me laughing out loud at their often juvenile on-screen antics! They remind me of the 60’s and 70’s in country Australia, when everyone was a little ‘lighter’ about life, and about themselves and each other, when telling jokes about anything was ok, when politics was entertaining and the politicians were educated, not just talk-fests of finding fault with the opposing party. Irish jokes were hilarious back then, along with most other topics used in humour, whereas jokes are often boringly and politically incorrect in 2012. The pranks played on Gazza during The Footy show, his surliness when he thinks the other ‘boys’ have gone too far, I now find outrageously funny. Billy Brownless, streaking across the stage with nothing on except a black screen dot; Sam Newman’s mailbag and roving reporting, all pathetic and silly, but for some reason I now find rather funny. For me to watch The Footy show, let alone write about how much I laugh out loud watching it, are surely the final proof of dementia my dear husband needs. Finally, although I usualy get as far as Sam’s Mailbag, thankfully (for my soul!!) I usually fall asleep after that!!