halftime
Click to viewI can't stop watching this clip.1 I'm not sure what game this is from, but yes, up-the-wall backflip will always be the best and only option for evading chainsaws. And what a perfect soundtrack.
This has also made me reflect on the greatness of Creed, the sort of less-popular, American Nickelback (is that a fair description?). I downloaded a few of their tracks from Napster back in the day. I remember this one time, I made the mistake of leaving my music folder open while I got up to go to the bathroom or something. When I got back, my dad was sitting in front of the computer, clicking from one MP3 file to another. His face hardened with suspicion as guitar chops thundered out of the sun-bleached plastic casing of the Altec-Lansing computer speakers.
My mom walked in, flipping a dishcloth over her shoulder. "What's this rock 'n' roll crap?" she demanded.
The Winamp media player displayed the track's artist and title on a sort of looping marquee. Through narrowed eyes, my dad read, "Creed...Higher...Creed...Higher..."
As with books, I can't think of any music that was expressly forbidden in our household (apart from the overtly Satanic), but to be caught intentionally listening to modern pop would be unseemly. Mary Kate and I had a bonding moment once when we realized that we both secretly listened to the local top-forty station on our little clock radios. It was just short of taboo: not precisely off-limits, but simply not done in polite society. Put it this way: in D2: The Mighty Ducks, when the Bash Brothers play their raucous music in the dorms, I really believed they were listening to music for bad boys. In fact it was "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet" by Bachman-Turner Overdrive.2
I don't think my MP3 collection was discussed any further that night; my parents just walked away, and I decided to be extra careful about leaving my files open.
And speaking of Creed, this Thanksgiving I would like to remind you of what was probably the greatest football halftime show of all time. I encourage you to watch this spectacle in its entirety, but if you can't, the first minute or two should be enough to change your life. I'll see you on the other side.
There, wasn't that something? I specifically remember watching this live, on Thanksgiving 2001. We were at Grandma and Grandpa Duff's house, and it must have been one of those moments after the meal when you don't know quite what to do, and we were all of us crowded in front of the TV to watch a football game no one cared about. I tensed up, wondering if my parents recognized the show's opening song as the same "rock 'n' roll crap" they'd found on the family computer. But nobody said anything to me. If anything, I bet Will came out with his signature line, "Oh-kayyyyy," which was said in response to anything that was not strenuously normal.
This halftime spectacular came just weeks after the September 11 attacks, and I'm sure it was the first major step toward national healing. It's simply breathtaking in its majesty. There's a lot to love about it, but for my money, the aerialists steal the show. This is a breach of one of my pet peeves, incredibly on-the-nose music choices or accompanying visuals,3 but in this instance I don't care. I love to imagine the brainstorming session for this performance. A bunch of suits in a conference room, crumpled sheets of yellow legal paper everywhere. A harried man at the whiteboard, one hand cupped to his ear as the other hand transcribes shouted ideas and just as quickly strikes them out. At the head of the table, presiding over a half-eaten Domino's pizza, Creed's lead singer, Scott Stapp, test-driving his custom Dallas Cowboys jersey. He takes a slug of Surge, slams it on the table next to a licensed NFL coaster. "What if," he says, dragging his fingers through his lustrous mane, "when I sing CAN YOU TAKE ME HYAGGHH, a dude flies?"
I don't know if it was meant to happen this way, but to me the funniest part is when the first aerialist glances worriedly to the side, as if wondering why he's not being taken higher. He covers a lot of horizontal distance and even swoops down a little before finally soaring skyward.
When we were planning our wedding, Kim gently vetoed several of my more outlandish proposals for the ceremony (zip lines, sword fights, etc.), but she said that perhaps we could host a twenty-fifth anniversary ceremony, at which time I'd be given carte blanche for all of my wildest ideas. I think a recreation of the 2001 Thanksgiving Day halftime show would be just the thing. When I met him at Niagara Falls Comic-Con, David Hasselhoff promised to attend my fifth anniversary celebration. Well, it seems he was busy in 2018, so he still owes me, and I think he could do great covers of both Higher and My Sacrifice. Now I just need a venue that can accommodate vaguely homoerotic aerialist performances. The new Bills stadium is, disappointingly, not a domed one, so we can't dangle chaps from the ceiling. The good news is, we have until 2038 to figure this out, but let's not dawdle, folks. Time flies, just like a half-naked dude strapped to hundred-foot-long bedsheets.
1 clip: This is not my content, but the only way I could share it within this entry was to upload it as an unlisted video on my throwaway YouTube account. Do not sue me.
2 music for bad boys: I remember a similar moment on the TV show JAG--a show I didn't follow but which was constantly on in the background at our house. In one episode, a mom and dad are at wit's end dealing with their rebellious teenage daughter. As if her snotty attitude and bad grades aren't enough, they find her in her bedroom listening to "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch--truly, music for the wretched and dissolute.
3 on-the-nose music choices: Here's another basic example. One time in the early part of this century, some acquaintance of mine was raving about an Avril Lavigne concert she'd attended. The best part, according to this person (I can't remember the person, but I remember the conversation, which should tell you something), was when "she came out on a skateboard for Sk8r Boi." Again, I do not remember who was telling me this, but today I remember that person as an idiot.