* Nice to see the potential of my death generated such an outpouring of concern on Friday. You people are cold.
* Today is 5 a.m. Producer Carol’s birthday. She wants me to come up with a cooler nickname for her, a la “Arch Nemesis Producer Jim.” But she also owes me pizza. And I baked cookies for her today. I suck at cooking, but these cookies actually turned out well. Edible cookies from me are a far more rare thing than a blog-worthy nickname. Maybe if she makes good with the pizza, I’ll consider it. But I don’t know what I’d call her. Short Producer Carol? Feisty Producer Carol? “Highlander” Fan Producer Carol? This requires more thought. I shall eat one of my cookies and mull this further.
* All I want to blog about today is the Super Bowl. The first quarter was interesting, if slow. Just two possessions. The second and third quarters were way boring. But that fourth quarter was a doozy. I was rooting for the Patriots, but I’m satisfied with the outcome.
* You have to wonder if Gisele Bundchen will catch the kind of flack Jessica Simpson caught when her man blew his playoff game. They kept showing her in the stands. I hate it when TV crews do the cutaway shot to the significant other. (Unless said significant other is scantily clad.) I mean, if I have to sit through another Spurs game with 45 minutes of Eva Longoria reaction shots, I might give up on the NBA altogether.
* Among the ads, I loved the Tide talking stain. Victoria’s Secret was nice, if only to see a hot chick being all hot. I also enjoyed the Cars.com flaming circle of death, and the Toyota commercial where the guy was in danger of having his face gnawed off by badgers. The car company takeoff on “The Godfather” was also amusing.
I hated the one with the dog lapping up Gatorade. It nearly made me spew my digested Chipotle burrito across my TV screen. Who wants to hear that? I had my 5-foot tower speakers rocking with my 100-watt Pioneer receiver. And all of a sudden, I hear the vile echoes of the inside of some mutt slurping back sugar water. Go to hell, Gatorade.
I’m also sick of virtually every ad with an animal. According to the venerable USA Today Ad Meter, the “Rocky” Budweiser ad with the clydesdale and the dalmatian was the most-liked. Really? Who cares about horses and dogs? Not this guy. But apparently Rochelle Fainstein, a junior creative director at Havas SA’s Arnold New York, loved it. She frickin’ cried over it. Why? You know what that horse was really thinking the whole time it was being filmed? “Duh, I’m a horse. Where’s food?”
Beer ads in general don’t really work on me. Maybe they’re better if you’re under the influence of their product. (Really? A guy hides beer under a fake wheel of cheese? This is funny to people?)
Congrats to Doritos, who had the lowest rated ad – the one with that unknown singer everyone hated. Welcome back to obscurity, untalented singer-lady. It’s like you never left.
* Tom Petty was an okay halftime show, but Prince last year was way better. I mean, the guy covered a Foo Fighters song! And he sang “Purple Rain” IN the rain! If Tom Petty was ever going to do a halftime show, they should have brought him out for one of Elway’s games, so they could have a “separated at birth” element to the whole show.
* After mentioning Matt Rodewald in my last blog, he sent me a ginormous bag of M&M’s. Matt Rodewald is a true American hero. But with his gift, I am reminded of Uncle Ben’s words from Spider-Man – “With great power comes great responsibility.” I feel I have a responsibility to milk this blog for all the free stuff I can get. (Again, still waiting on the hot chicks’ phone numbers, people. Does Matt have a sister?)
* We’re back in our normal studio now… the one on Michigan Avenue. I assume we bought the space and put those huge windows up so people could see us. Now we’ve erected giant set pieces to block the view. I am very confused.
* Today we described the Lane Bryant shooter as a black male with “medium complexion.” Anyone care to translate? Can you have a low complexion? A high complexion? Or is it a volume thing? Like, a dude can have a small or a big complexion or something? I don’t know.
* I leave you with this image, courtesy of Reuters. I have no comment to add.