Okay, first let’s talk about the halftime show. I love Tom Petty, even if the beard did vaguely make him look like an Amish serial killer. And that was an excellent, professional, full-on rockin’ performance he gave. That being said, the whole post-wardrobe-malfunction paranoia on the part of the NFL is getting a little ridiculous.
Since Booby Gate of 2002, the half-time shows have been as follows: Paul McCartney (white male, age 67); Rolling Stones (white males, ages 60 to 66); Prince (sort of black, sort of male, age 49); and now Tom Petty (white male, age 57).
I can only imagine the following conversation between NFL executives:
Exec number one: We can’t have any more female half-time performers, because female half-time performers have . . . BREASTS! With possible exposure of said breasts.
Exec number two: And for that matter, we should probably not book anyone young, black, or hip, because they might do something GANGSTER.
Exec number one: I believe the kids say “Gangstah”
Exec number two: Heh heh. You got that right, Jimbo.
And. . . scene.
My prediction for who will perform at next year’s Super Bowl? Bruce Springsteen. If he’s already booked, Frank Sinatra. Oh wait, he’s dead. . .
As for the ads?
You can't go wrong with baby spit-up and a good creepy clown joke, so I did dig those E*Trade ads.
I also liked the Justin Timberlake' s Pepsi ad, because I think all of us, even JT fans, secretly want to see him get repeatedly pummeled in the groin.
The Coke ad with Baby Stewie and Underdog and Charlie Brown was quite lovable.
But my favorite ad was actually created by the NFL (you see? I dis and I kiss): Loved the story of Chester Pitts, the oboe playing lineman.
All in all, this was definitely a rare case where the game itself was more buzz-worthy than the ads.
Sigh. Another football season has come to an end. Oh wait. . .I forgot: Pro Bowl fever! Catch it! (Yeah, not working for me either.)
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