7:24pm. Halftime of the "Don't Say Super Bowl"
A good American:
1. mows his own lawn
2. cleans out the gutters (or hires someone to)
3. watches the Super Bowl at home.
For wife Alexis and me, it's in front of a fire. I'd order a pizza but we had one yesterday at Tomato Bar after seeing "Jane Got a Gun," which was surprisingly pretty good. It's better to watch the Don't Say "Super Bowl" in your own living room. Otherwise, you run the risk of sitting next to someone who wants to talk about something someone said on the radio and you miss the big plays as they happen. Instead, you catch them on replay and that's not really watching the Super Bowl at all.
Cold Play is doing what I consider their best song - "Paradise" - and there's a hunnerd thousand people or so singing and dancing along with it. The Super Bowl's at Levi Stadium in San Jose, California. I was there while they were putting the finishing touches on building it. That picture you see above is from a radio conference that my daughter Jeanie and I went to in 2014. Some smart aleck put a slide up that said Time Spent Listening to radio declines by 6% a year. Ouch.
The other pictures? I found them today cleaning out Photos on my Mac. One of the pictures is of me and my older cousins after we just got back from Wampum. The guy on the left is my cousin Duane, who later became the mayor of Hammond for 12 years. Now he's a deacon in the Catholic church and you can't say "g-- damn" in front of him. There was a time, however. The was a time.
There's also a picture of Pete Korellis, Jeff Tharp and me on a couch - Three Region Rats on a Couch - at Lake Maxinkuckee. We drank a ton of beer that weekend. Tharp drinks only Miller Lite. Me, Coors Lite.
Beyonce's dancing now as part of the halftime celebration... Bruno Mars is joining in. Cold Play to Beyonce to Bruno and back again. They're on this humongous stage at the 50-yeard-line. A lot of yellows and oranges and neon greens. Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney, Diana Ross, Little Richard, Bruce Springsteen, Mick Jagger, Billy Joel, Michael Jackson. It's the 50th Super Bowl so they're showing highlights of past halftime performers.
Michael Jackson was the best. He's from Gary a few miles from where I'm sitting in my living room next to a fire and my wife who grew up a few blocks from where the Jacksons did. Somehow you can't say "Michael Jackson" without getting this really bad feeling inside like you just watched a movie that turned out to be a huge tragedy. Only it's not a movie but a real-life story of someone from the Region who got gobbled up by the world.
I didn't set out to do this, but I pretty much blogged to the three or four of you for most of the halftime show. If that's not an American thing to do then nothing is.