Monday, February 3, 2020

My review of the Super Bowl

I remember so many boring Super Bowls where two dull teams slog it out to an exciting 35-18 finish, and the halftime entertainment was KISS and I'm falling asleep by the middle of the third quarter.

Football has changed a lot in the past few years. The day of the pocket quarterback who stood like a cigar store Indian and either passed or ran for his life are all over, and those immobile guys have been replaced by people like Lamar Jackson of the Ravens and this Patrick Mahomes of the new champion Chiefs, who can run as well as, if not better than they can throw, and we at home don't know what they're going to do.  It's entertainment, and more often than not, the games come down to the final few minutes, or even seconds, and you can't doze off or pick up PARADE magazine and chuckle at the Lockhorns comic.

The halftime show this year featured two magnificent women, Jennifer Lopez and Shakira, singing and dancing their way into my heart and then right on past it, since I couldn't understand the lyrics (and I'm fairly proficient in Spanish.) That style of music is not for me, but I see on social media that a lot of people were thrilled with the show, so good. That's not why I tuned in to begin with!

The commercials were good, the ones where I knew what they were talking about. Faute de mieux, the people who make commercials go for a frame of reference far outside of mine - usually science fiction movies and reality TV. But, the Jeep commercial with Bill Murray was brilliant, and how appropriate that it ran on Groundhog Day, allowing the setup of a parody of Bill's own classic movie. But, on the morning news yesterday morning, as they previewed the ads, the weatherman was talking about the movie to the anchor, who had never seen the movie, so I guess that spot went right over her head.

As did the other really great commercial, a string of references to Rock and rocky things, which wound up with a guy wearing a Rocky Balboa boxing robe at the 72 stone steps before the entrance of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  And then the guy turns around and it turns out to be CHRIS Rock. And then Balboa himself, Sylvester Stallone, lurches into view and "You were expecting...me?" or words to that effect, and I wonder how many people in their 20s know anything about any of the many Rocky movies that entertained us in our day.

It's hard to think of something that EVERYONE knows or cares about. I see the #1 album this week on the Billboard charts is "Music To Be Murdered By" by Eminem. Perhaps it's best I don't know any more than that, but I have to imagine what it'll be like 46 years from now, when young couples look back and remember that as their favorite song from courtship.

Whereas, Peggy and I had for "our song" the tender ballad "Bongo Rock" by the Incredible Bongo Band from the album "The Thing With Two Heads."

See the difference? No one ever got murdered by a bongo drum.

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