Things The Super Bowl Taught Me About: Football, Advertisements, and The Boss

First up, the thinnest of the three: Football. I know the least about this, and to be honest, The Bowl didn't do much to elucidate things, other than:

1. You can get (score? make? receive?) a safety by committing a personal foul in the end zone. I didn't know that.

2. John Madden loves to say "penetration" as many times as possible, as fast as possible, regardless of the situation on the field.

3. I love John Madden.

Ok, now that that's over with, on to advertisements:

1. The people who advertise hilarious shows apparently don't talk to the people who actually write the hilarious shows. Probably because the people who write hilarious shows look down upon the people who write the commercials for the show, making fun of them in the hallways and throwing things at them in the cafeteria.

2. Speaking of commercials.... WTF? By my count, there were 3 good commercials total during this Super Bowl: 1. Chimps advertising motor oil (I buy anything advertised to me by chimps), 2. Those stock trading ads with the talking babies, which have gotten progressively better over the years ("Maybe read the rules, Shankoppotomus!"), and 3. JESUS CHRIST ITS G.I. JOE! Although to be honest, I'm sure the G.I. Joe movie will suck, I just didn't know they were making one until I saw the commercial. I think we all know where this is going. I'm waiting for the teaser trailer.

3. Pepsi and Coke have apparently fired their advertising team, told the word processors at the ad department to "switch to autopilot," and then put whatever crap they produce onto the screen.

4. 3D movies have existed for... holy Hell, 87 fucking years (according to Wikipedia). Are we supposed to assume that this is a new development? The way they're pimping it out now, it certainly seems so.

And finally...

Bruce. Good lord. Now, make no mistake: I have a soft spot for The Boss. I grew up listening to his songs, and before I discovered the radio, he was all I listened to. As the less-pussy of the two internationally-renowed New Jersey superstars of classic rock (Joan Bon Jovi being the other), he represents the old-school blue-collar New Jersey of our fathers, now lost to the newer, more New York prone white-collar New Jersey of our bratty Guido brethren. Unfortunately, he's starting to represent the blue-collar New Jersey of our grandfathers at this point. Now, I don't think it's sad when rockers who became famous in their teens or 20's stay active well into their later years. In fact, I think it's cool to think that there are some people who will never give up the music, who still "have it." But it's important to be realistic. Bruce Springsteen is 59 years old. He has no business jumping up on pianos and falling to the ground. He could seriously hurt something.

Now, this isn't a problem specifically with Springsteen or his E-Street band. KISS formed in 1972. Aerosmith was in 1970. AC/DC formed in 1973. All of these bands are still technically "active," and to be honest, I mean... for fuck's sake (Exhibit A: that photo). I think it's great that you want to keep playing music, or if you want to stay touring and whatnot. But I think at some point, you need to re-invent yourselves as "not the same band you were 30 years ago." There's nothing shameful in that, but listening to someone who is 35 years my senior talking about life as a teenager just comes off as... well, weird. Or sad. Or the kind of nostalgia that isn't good. I'm not sure what the word is, but it's not the kind of feeling you want to be having.

Edit: After re-reading, I've decided to add a qualifier. Talking about your life as a teenager is fine. "Glory Days" is still a relevant song, and it's a good kind of nostalgia. But mashing up those kinds of lyrics -- wistful for the bygone days of youth -- with the "LOOK AT ME I CAN STILL ROCK IT" theatrics of the aforementioned piano jumping and limboing is what gets me. Yes, it's the Super Bowl, and big theatrics are the standard (for details, Google "Tit-star" and "His Purple Majesty" for previous offerings), but in that case, why book Springsteen and the E-Streeters? And why, after being booked, did Springsteen feel the need to compete with younger acts on that level? It's just... wrong. Edit #2: The fact that I just referred to Janet Jackson and Prince as "younger acts" should be enough to illustrate my point.

Anyway Bruce, re-invent yourself as the grandpa rocker you clearly are. You're a titan of the music industry, and you don't need fireworks or gymnastics to prove it. There's nothing shameful about calming down at 60 and playing mellow. Your shows will still sell out, and you'll still be able to bang every MILF in Middlesex, Monmouth, and Ocean counties. Provided Max Weinberg doesn't get to them first.