Friday, February 4, 2011

Nurse the Hate: Hate Super Sunday

Super Bowl Sunday is as American as apple pie. It’s as American as triple whoppers with a Diet Coke on the side. It’s as American as complaining about the cost of gas while slipping into a SUV the size of Rhode Island. (Well, you do have two kids. You need a vehicle the size of an aircraft carrier to move that kind of cargo.) It’s as American as watching pirated moves on DVD on your 78 inch hi def TV and wondering why the local movie house closed. It’s as American as watching the ESPN “Neck Snapping Hit of the Week” in super slow-mo, and then pretending to be concerned about NFL player safety. It’s pretty American, OK?

A few things to know as you head into the weekend…

1) There will be more calories consumed by Americans today than any other day of the year including Thanksgiving. With roughly 17.5 hours of pregame show, you have to do something. That’s why most folks eat some special wildass snack they created like Fritos wrapped in bacon braised in duck fat and root beer, nestled on a bed of Slim Jims with a nacho cheese sauce lovingly layered on top. This will be washed down with 18 cans of “light” beer.

2) If you go to a dreaded “Super Bowl Party”, make sure your host is focused. One year I went to a co-worker’s party to discover that she intended to switch the TV to HBO for “Sex and the City” at 9pm (or when New England drove down the field for the game deciding score). I wound up watching the end of that game on a TV the size of a Blackberry screen with two other pissed off guys on the porch. That party was a lot like the movie “Jerry McGuire”. It was a chick flick in sports wrapping paper. As I felt cheated at “Jerry McGuire”, I also felt cheated at that alleged “Super Bowl Party”.

3) The Halftime Show will be embarrassing for the participating artists. While they have moved past the catch all booking policy of the past (Ladies and Gentleman! Please welcome ZZ Top, Dolly Parton, and Lindsey Lohan as they sing a medley of songs from the Broadway Show “Cats”!), the fact remains I cannot forget the vision of a pasty white Pete Townshend’s belly as he half heartedly bashed out songs that sounded great when played by a 26 year old. The payday is incomprehensible for the musicians, but it’s an artistic compromise of Herculean proportions. Who is it this year anyway? Did they finally work their way down the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame list to get to Herman’s Hermits yet?

4) Oh, the game? I think the Steelers will win as they usually do. They will be seemingly outplayed for 56 minutes. Their defense will make a monster play late. Big Ben will make a big time pass, despite having horrible stats on the day, and they’ll win by 3. In the press conference he’ll talk about “the journey he’s been on, and personal adversity he’s overcome.” Maybe he’ll drop in a Jesus reference. If I was his agent, I’d tell him to, that’s for sure. Then he’ll take a shower, and fondle some willing/unwilling girls at some Dallas nightclub. Everything will be back to normal. Take Pittsburgh +3.

5) People get very excited about the ads. As someone that knows a few things about advertising, let me tell you something. The goal of an ad is not to be a clever little fun movie to entertain for 30 seconds. It is to move product. If you see a company that spends $2 million on a Super Bowl ad package, and you can’t remember what exactly the product was, immediately sell their stock. That company is run by Fools and Egomaniacs. Example: Those ads with the baby talking about his stock portfolio. Cute as hell. What is the product? I have seen those 14,879 times and I can’t recall. Neither can you. The only ads you’ll remember will be Budweiser, and you’ll laugh it up as you crack open another Bud Light to wash down your Frito Duck Fat Slim Jim Nacho Dip.


At February 6, 2011 at 9:11:00 AM EST , Blogger Walter Zoomie said...

Big dummy. Nobody goes to a Superbowl party hosted by a chick. It is neither prudent nor proper.

At February 6, 2011 at 10:20:00 AM EST , Blogger Greg Miller said...

I really should have known better. Still, it was incomprehensible to me that you would change the channel in the fourth quarter of a one score game.

Frankly, I was invited to a Sex And The City Party... I got duped.

Never again.

At February 6, 2011 at 12:04:00 PM EST , Blogger Walter Zoomie said...

Brother, I would have raised holy hell when that clueless bitch touched the remote.

When are ya'll coming back to Indy? A buddy saw your last show, and turned me on to your music. (sorry 'bout that guitar thing) Great shit, and I especially enjoy the six pack of Mickey's bigmouth and weed tune while bouncing down the interstate in my rig.

No, I don't hurl trucker bombs, nor do I wear trucker hats...

At February 10, 2011 at 1:26:00 PM EST , Blogger ScottyJ said...

Frito Duck Fat Slim Jim Nacho Dip sounds yummy!


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