Blogging 365, Day 34: Super Bowl Sunday

Oh, don’t let that title fool you. I couldn’t give two shits about the Super Bowl or anything associated with it: commercials, halftime shows, etc. I honestly couldn’t care less.

So rather than give you my boring assessment of the overhyped game, here’s a summary of what made my Sunday super.

I rode over 18 miles. In preparation for the Chinatown Firecracker Bike Ride in a few weeks, I thought it would be beneficial to get on the saddle and start riding again now that I’m no longer feeling like total crap. While I would have liked to make it an even 20 miles, my total distance of 18.2 was definitely close enough. Just tack on another 11.8 miles to that and I’ll be gold on February 23rd. It’s gonna be epic.


I tried a new grocery store. When I returned home and cleaned off the road debris from my person, we decided to give a new grocery store a try. It’s called WinCo Foods and unless you’re in Washington, Idaho, Nevada, California or Oregon (hence the name WinCo), you’re pretty much screwed. Oh, they do have locations in Utah as well but the U is not included in that nifty acronym. At any rate, WinCo was pretty amazing with unbelievable prices on just about everything: ketchup was 48 cents a bottle, my Silk Soy Milk was $2.79 (regular is closer to $4 for a half-gallon), and they have tons of food in bulk. They even have fresh honey made by live bees. I know that may be a big “DUH!” but really, they have dispensers with bees inside them doing what they do best. Here’s proof: me being a smartass by pretending to lift the cover that the sign warns customers not to do (“DANGER: DO NOT LIFT LID. BEES WILL ESCAPE”).


And oh yeah, it helped that the local fire station was there buying groceries. Nothing makes a boy happier than seeing a bright red firetruck.


We had a great lunch. You gotta love Pasty Kitchen, a place that’s been around for ages. That means they’re doing something right and that something is serving up one item: English meat pies (okay, they also have vegetable pies). Available in small or large sizes and either ready-to-eat or frozen, they are simply delicious and a great way to load up on carbs and protein. In fact I may eat a couple of these pies before my bike ride in a few weeks.


We went to the driving range. I had promised Anthony I would take him to the driving range today and I did not disappoint. And up until I drove a few balls well beyond the 200 yard marker, Anthony was killing me. Come on, what do you expect? This boy plays 9 holes every Friday and has an excellent golf coach while I’m just some idiot who picked up a club in my teens and thought it was fun. He’s got such an advantage over me that I don’t even want to think of what he’ll be doing on the course by the time he’s a teenager.


Look at that form. Did I mention he’s still 8 years old?

So there you have my Super Bowl Sunday. You can keep your parties, your football games, halftime shows, headaches and hangovers. Spending time with the family was truly a super and awesome way to spend the day.

Now Do You Believe Me?


I’ve been saying for years that Black-Eyed Peas* suck great big donkey balls. I came to this conclusion back in 2005 or so when a co-worker brought in a copy of their then-new album, Monkey Business.

Willing to give almost anything a try at least once, she popped the CD into the player and let it spin.

I’ve simply got no words for what I heard except for “utter garbage.” There was not one moment of that CD that I would consider memorable—at least for the good. After about the third song I stopped the CD and said, “Okay, that’s enough. Sorry. That sucks.”

That brings us to 2011. This troupe of morons has won 6 Grammys, lending more credence to the notion that the Grammys should now, once and for all, be considered meaningless and without merit.

But apparently, nobody listened to me as Black-Eyed Peas* continue to sell horrible record after horrible record. As a result of their mysterious popularity, they were booked for today’s Super Bowl Halftime Show which I didn’t watch because a) I couldn’t care less about football b) or the commercials and c) all of the reasons I’ve mentioned so far.

The reviews?

The Los Angeles Times: “The Black Eyed Peas at the Super Bowl: Pop absurdity at its finest”

NPR: “Black Eyed Peas Underwhelm Super Bowl Halftime”

Entertainment Weekly: “Black Eyed Peas perform at Super Bowl XLV Halftime Show: Missing the feeling”

And here’s a collection of tweets from The New York Times. My own tweet was “Black Eyed Peas = one huge bucket of musical fail, #SuperBowl or not. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Now do you believe me?

Then there were a few comments from my Facebook peeps:

My cousin Pat said, “so… these are the black eyed peas…. hmm” while friend Casey stated, “What a horrible act to book for half time…. I have yet to see a live performance from them that is any amount of decent.”

Then there’s the comment on this post from a former co-worker, Tony: “And perhaps it should be “Black-Eyed PEES” due to Fergie’s tendency to urinate all over herself mid-concert (Google it).” I’ve seen it. I don’t need to Google it. Blecch.

Yes, I understand that every form of art is subjective and open for debate, and posting random Facebook thoughts and obviously negative articles might not hold much water with the point I’m trying to make which is, simply, this: can a group suck more than them, Super Bowl or not?

The answer is a simple no, no they can’t.

Unless, of course, it’s Jimmy Buffett.

*Note the addition of the grammatically correct hyphen