I’m not a sports fan, so watching last night’s Super Bowl wasn’t on my to-do list. However, I ended up forcibly watching about an hour of it – including the halftime show – while eating dinner at the bar of my favorite Asian joint.
“Who are you rooting for?” I was continually asked.
“I don’t even know who’s playing,” I would reply.
“You don’t know who’s playing? It’s the Super Bowl man!” one guy said to me.
“I could really care less, man” I replied as I turned to the bartender and asked if she could put Animal Planet on so I could watch the Puppy Bowl.
My request was denied, so I watched grown men in tight pants, throw a ball around while I ate my beef fried dumplings.
A few of us talked about how good Madonna looked despite being “in her sixties” as one person said. I quickly Googled the correct age. 53.
I missed the middle finger play by some wanna-be-musical-entertainer named M.I.A.
I loved Cee Lo Green. In fact, I love anyone who can have hit song built around the f-word.
I saw a few commercials, but none sent my heart aflutter. Not even the wet-dream inducing one for Fiat. Clint Eastwood’s commercial for Dodge was powerful, but I still don’t know what the hell those two minutes were all about.
Social media got a good showing with nearly all the commercials bearing a Twitter hashtag and some even used their Facebook URL instead of their dot-com address. Hmmmm…. maybe this social media stuff is finally starting to catch on.
As I finished the last bite of my Chicken Jo Lau, some guy cheered as someone made a touchdown. Another guy said, “it’s over,” took one last swig of his beer and sauntered out the door. I took his queue, paid my bill and to the valet.
“Are you a Giants or Patriots fan?” the attendant asked.
“I don’t like football,” I said.
“Exactly the reason why I’m working tonight sir,” he replied.
And here I thought I was the only one.