Yeah, yeah, Barack Obama is cuh-razy about Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, particularly after the support “The Boss” gave him during the prez campaign. Moi? I was impressed that a 59-year-old rocker who is two months my senior could still run and slide around a Super Bowl stage like he did during halftime. Some but not all of my Huckleberries Online commenters gushed about Springsteen’s high-energy performance. For example, BlueInIdaho opined: “I tuned in for the halftime and the last five or so minutes of the game. The Boss was awesome – one of the few greats that I have yet to see in person.” However, the kids weren’t impressed (if you give me the latitude to call college students “kids.”) At the Univeristy of Idaho Argonaut, sports editor Levi Johnstone sniffed: “Not only did ‘The Boss’ nearly die trying to get his old (butt) up on the piano Super Bowl Sunday, but in a dramatic turn of events, old Bruce found himself singing a couple of octaves higher after accidentally slamming his (groin) into the camera after a 5-foot knee slide. The ‘Glory Days’ are over, and ‘The Boss’ should retire.” I’d like to be around 40 years when Levi’s 60 or so, to see if he can jump from his knees, to a standing position. That is, if he can do so now.
Super Bowl as church
On his blog, Dennis Mansfield, a former exec for a family values group and Idaho congressional wannabe, saw similarities between the Super Bowl and a church service. Quoth: “Crowds coming together, music bringin’ them into the building. Everyone knows their ‘label’ and each has superstars they follow. When it all starts up, hands are raised, shouts happen and the ‘service’ is under way. There’s a tempo to the Super Bowl and a general ‘feel’ as to whether it’ll be a great event. Or not. Like being at a really good church service. What? Yeah, read on … A communion of sorts happens, food is shared, drink, too. People hang out. And they love each other. It’s church with a pigskin. And our whole nation attends the ‘service.’ Well almost all. Some idiots fish …or read.” So is it a mortal sin if you’re one of the “idiots” who skip the Super Bowl? I didn’t, of course. Just wondering.
Poet’s Corner: “Our doubts ebb and flow/and then wane and wax: does anyone there/ever pay all his tax?” – The Bard of Sherman Avenue (“Washington, D.C.”) … Speaking of age (as I was in the Springsteen item), I’m not much of a Butch Otter fan. But you have to be proud of a governor who blows a rotator cuff at his age team roping animals … Another new feature of Huckleberries Online is the daily Bonner County Police Blotter. You Bonner County subscribers can read what we in the newsroom see each weekday … Bumpersnicker (on a Honda Civic, southbound on Government Way Wednesday morning): “Give me your chocolate – and no one will get hurt” … My wife and I held our breath around 6 o’clock Tuesday evening as the youth in a driver’s education car, eastbound on Harrison, signaled for a right turn onto Fourth Street. Which is a one-way street headed the other way. His teacher musta intervened because the car crossed the lights and turned left on Fifth. A Driver’s Ed teacher must have nerves of steel. Or a death wish …
After Nancy Killifer pulled out of the running for the nation’s Efficiency Officer, Jana Tritto/Hidden Valley applied for the job via an e-mail to President Obama. Sez she (on her Brand X Ranch blog): “I manage to squeeze 26 hours into 24, shop for deals, cook from scratch, turn off lights in empty rooms, turn down the thermostat and put sweaters on the kids, reuse, recycle, repair, and most important, resist. Resist the seduction of wishes and wants, and upgrades and super-sizes. I like the idea of make-do, make-over, do without. I like simple, it’s efficient.” She admits that her tongue was firmly cheeked when she wrote her e-mail. Then, she realized Obama “could really benefit from the life experiences and expertise of those of us who have had to live with the constraints we wish our government would adopt.” Best of all? Jana’s current in all her tax payments. P’haps she’s overqualified.