XLV: Not so super

Super Bowl XLV, why not call it 45 for the lack of an expletive as a modifier, was not  the worst Super Bowl. But it was bad enough.

The game turned out to be pretty good. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t a blow-out. It wasn’t sudden death playoff. I guess the game was good enough.

It absolutely serves no purpose for me to bad-mouth Christine Aguilera for butchering that part of our National Anthem that she couldn’t remember. It’s a difficult song to sing. If you search this blog you will see numerous references where I say we should replace “Star-Spangled Banner” with “America the Beautiful” as our national song. Still, the SSB is a difficult song so unless you are a young Aretha Franklin, you shouldn’t really attempt to give the anthem a “soul shake.”

The much anticipated television commercials were not, in my estimation, very good. Neither were they good enough. The best was an old joke, the Budweiser “Tiny Dancer” commercials where the rough-as-a-cob Western characters break out in in a not-so-macho old-time Elton John tune. It was funny in a way that I appreciated but that doesn’t make it hit. Several others were okay. Some ads just stunk.

Even the ever-present Super Bowl “hype” leading up to the game on Fox was disappointing. The interviews of celebrities on the red carpet was a malicious waste of air time. I like the Fox Football gang. I think they are very amusing as well as knowledgeable as any about the game. But anyone who tries to interview Harrison Ford needs to spend a week penned up with a baboon that’s hammered on Red Bull and Seconal. I’m sure the level of understanding would be similar.

Speaking of interviews, the chat between Bill O’Reilly and the other “O” who lives in the White House shows up close and personal just how much an idiot O’Reilly really is. As with his show, “It’s All About Bill,” such was the interview. What Bill O said was all that is important is in the mind of the interviewer. I don’t care whether you are talking to Obama or Clinton or the two Bushes, if you have an exclusive interview watched by probably the biggest audience in the world you don’t squander it with cheap shots  or spending all your time on “me, me, me …. ” What an ass can that O’Reilly.

An old friend came down and visited. We hung out on Saturday night talking old times and watching the hype and game on Sunday. That and that alone saved this from being the worst Super Bowl ever. Oh and the game too, I suppose.