There Will Be Cursing

Slash hanging with Pittsburgh Steelers coach Mike Tomlin.

Actually, that caption is a lie and that is Will-I-Am in the picture, the leader of the Black Eyed Peas, or as they’ve come to be known as, the soul-crushing-black-hole-of-vapid-and-meaningless pop music. But the resemblance is uncanny, no?

Over 110 million people watched Super Bowl 45. And as far as I can remember, it contained some of the most epic moments in quite some time in terms of visual stimulation from the mistake-filled (Christina Aguilera’s rendition of the National Anthem), the horrific (the now infamous halftime show) to the boring (85% of the commercials) and to the exciting (the actual game). Just a quick note, my father-in-law predicted the length of Ms. Aguilera’s flawed version of the Star Spangled Banner to the second. Congrats, Louie.

To be honest, I was more excited to eat. I was the only person at my in-law’s who had his head on straight and wore pants with an elastic waistband. Hot wings, chicken burritos, pizza dip, hot dogs and potato skins make you fat. I guess I was the only pro on hand Sunday night.

The game, in my opinion, was solid. I mentioned to everyone I was watching the game with there hadn’t been a blowout in a Super Bowl for quite some time, which is cool because most Super Bowls I remember from being a kid were pretty damn boring. I believe the last one might have been when Tampa crushed the Oakland Raiders 48-21 in Super Bowl 37. Yes, 37. Why we still use Roman numerals is beyond me. Why don’t we use handy things like Egyptian hieroglyphs on road maps? Precisely.

I can’t say I care much for the Steelers or the Packers, but I cheered for the Pack because I felt guilty about cheering for a probable date rapist. Alleged date rapist. Whatever. I always thought he was sort of a douche anyway.

I did like the Packers’ story in the run up to the game. Injuries galore, narrowly getting into the postseason and then having to make a run away from Lambeau Field. Plus, I just really hate the goddamn Steelers and their obnoxious fans. And to top it off, Green Bay’s roster had a Husker and the Steelers had a Tiger, so there was a some college rooting interest in the Missouri friendly house I was watching the game at.

The cliffhanger Budweiser commercial sucked. The Doritos commercials were lame. Sorry, they were. And I pretty much forgot about the rest. The NFL commercial with the South Park clip at the end was a big bucket of win, as was the dogs serving Bud Light. Probably because of the two Great Danes in the clip. Other than that, not much to write home about when it comes to the part of the night people most tune in to watch other than the game itself. Oh, the chimps blocking the guy in his car was ok. I couldn’t fully commit because animals upright in people clothes freak me the fuck out. Yeesh, enough to give me goddamn nightmares in my 30′s.

The halftime show. Oh, the halftime show. Ever since middle America caught a glimpse of an unrestrained, black breast several years ago, pop acts were a big no-no. Your dad’s music was on display at halftime. Except that one where Prince played the shit out of his guitar in the rain, which was cool. The Who sucked last year, which I can only assume prompted the NFL to find a hot, hip pop act the kids were into. Too bad they didn’t ask any actual kids.

Soccer moms, eight-year-olds and my wife like the Black Eyed Peas. It was quite terrible. I fully subscribe to the theory their performance set music back a few decades. They played a medley of their “hits,” which was difficult to focus on because of the ridiculous multitude of other crap going on. “Dancers” in neon Tron suits, what I can only hope was a fake Slash, and Fergie growling into a microphone telling me to do something I can only guess I’m too uncoordinated to pull off, only I can’t remember what exactly that was.

If I smoked I would have had an excuse to get up and leave for a bit, but it was like watching a train wreck. Whoever was doing the sound mix for the performance must have been an intern from DeVry, because even that part of it sucked. As lame as I thought Paul McCartney was, I wouldn’t have minded some silly love songs instead of what I was witness to Sunday night.

Finally, leave it to ESPN, with their masters in hyperbole, to drool over Aaron Rodgers like he was the second coming of Johnny Unitas after the game. Yes, he’s a great quarterback and has a bright future. I agree he has solidified his position after taking over for Brett Favre a few years ago with the win, and YES I now wish the 49ers would have drafted him instead of Alex Smith… But come on, I think I heard no less than six or seven talking heads on the station proclaim he’s better than Favre. Let’s wait and see how it plays out maybe, ESPN? I know you guys don’t go overboard that often so I can forgive you just this one time, but let’s not do it again, ok?

Anyway…

Back when music (and Slash with Guns N’ Roses) was dangerous, and my mom hated it. Not something she could sing along with and the whole family could enjoy together…