Super Sunday

The Pittsburgh Steelers defeated the Seattle Seahawks to win Superbowl XL (that's 40, not Extra Large). The game itself wasn't that spectacular- the AFC championship when the Steelers beat the Colts was more exciting. I watched the game at Phil and Sue's house and indulged in a super feast that included chili, mini hot dogs, snickerdoodles, rice krispy treats, chips and dip, and a salad, my theory being that ending the night with a salad would counteract and erase all prior consumption of unhealthy foodstuffs. I won $10 after the first quarter but then lost a dollar on a bet I made for halftime. I wagered that the Stones would play Start Me Up, Satisfaction, and their cover of Ain't Too Proud To Beg as a tribute to Detroit motown, and I lost (hah- gambled and lost) despite having correctly identified two or three songs. We also had a discussion on if/when people would have slept with Mick Jagger. I put the over-under at 1985: I would definitely sleep with the pre-1985 Jagger but not post-1985 Jagger, and heaven forbid the current Jagger. I'd still do Keith Richards, though. Kidding. As for commercials, I liked the Bud ones (the magic fridge and the streaking shorn sheep were both hilarious) and Sprint had a couple of good ones (theft deterrent phone), but overall, there were too many TV promos and too much tackling. I like physical comedy as much as the next girl, but come on, come up with something new. At some level, any ad with tackling seems to be a pale imitation of the Terry Tate office linebacker bit.