Mary Ann Ellis
Super Bowl XLVII
February 3, 2013, has arrived and young men’s fancy has turned to football. Young women’s, too. The whole country’s, or so it seems. The nation stands in unison and turns its eyes toward Super Bowl XLVII in New Orleans. Along with many others, Scott Petty and the CBS news team are out there, have been for several days now. I hope all you local people were ready. We Ellises certainly were.
If you didn’t have enough food, it’s not the grocery stores’ fault. For some time now big displays of super packs of Pepsi and Coke greeted customers at entryways. I saw carts filled with more potent drinks leaving the stores, too. Super-sized bags of Doritos and 47 different flavors of chips in bright red and yellow bags tempted our eyes and made rash promises to our taste buds.
“Buy me! Buy me! Prepare now for Super Bowl!” they all shouted.
Sunday afternoon I took a long nap, so I wouldn’t be sleepy during the festivities. I’d already prepared Jambalaya in keeping with the Louisiana tradition. Filled with peppers, onions, tomatoes, Cajun seasoning, sausage, and a generous dash of Texas Pete, it sat on the stove on a low simmer while I napped. I’d also bought some Doritos and cokes and stashed them in the cabinet for this auspicious night. What more could we possibly need for our own private party?
Finally the appointed hour arrived, and I flipped on the television just in time to see Alicia Keys singing the national anthem and playing the piano on the 50 yard line. I wanted to see how they got the piano out there, but of course, they didn’t show that part. I rather liked her rendition, but when I glanced at online comments a little while ago, some folks said it was too slow, some said too jazzy. We all have our opinions, but I liked it. Thanks to the camera, I even saw a football player with a tear in his eye.
And then the GAME started. I’ll go ahead at this point and admit that I had no idea who would be playing. I did figure that out as soon as they flashed it on the bottom of the screen—the Baltimore Ravens and the San Francisco 49ers. Okay. Now I was set. I settled into my recliner and prepared to watch my first Super Bowl ever. About that time, Larry walked in.
“What on earth are you watching?” he asked. “You don’t like football.”
“I’m trying to change my ways and give football a chance,” I retorted. “I don’t like Doritos either, but I bought some. Go get some Jambalaya, and you’ll see the whole thing in a different light.”
“You have lost your mind,” he replied, sniffing his way toward the aroma coming from the kitchen.
Everybody knows that the best commercials appear during the Super Bowl, but the goat eating bag after bag of Doritos was hilarious. I can’t describe it, but even Larry stopped eating long enough to laugh at that one. Check the Internet if you haven’t seen it. It’s worth the effort.
Then one team scored, I don’t remember which, and . . . . .well, I got bored. I flipped over to see which shows we have recorded and decided to watch “Castle” for a little while.
It wouldn’t take long. By this time, Larry had finished eating and applauded my decision.
We finished “Castle” just in time to flip back for the Pepsi halftime show with Beyonce. I don’t know what to say. I have no words, so I’ll use some other viewers’ comments.
One person said on Facebook, “I felt like I was sitting on the couch watching pornography with my mother-in-law.”
Someone else said, “Maybe there was a bit too much flash, but then again, it was the Super Bowl.”
After half-time, I wandered off to read my book for a while. I gave the Doritos to my grandson Stuart, who likes them almost as much as that goat in the commercial does. I’ll be back in a while, but not for the game. That’s entirely enough football for me for one year, but “Downton Abbey” comes on at 9 p.m.
“Buy me! Buy me! Prepare now for Super Bowl!” they all shouted.
Sunday afternoon I took a long nap, so I wouldn’t be sleepy during the festivities. I’d already prepared Jambalaya in keeping with the Louisiana tradition. Filled with peppers, onions, tomatoes, Cajun seasoning, sausage, and a generous dash of Texas Pete, it sat on the stove on a low simmer while I napped. I’d also bought some Doritos and cokes and stashed them in the cabinet for this auspicious night. What more could we possibly need for our own private party?
Finally the appointed hour arrived, and I flipped on the television just in time to see Alicia Keys singing the national anthem and playing the piano on the 50 yard line. I wanted to see how they got the piano out there, but of course, they didn’t show that part. I rather liked her rendition, but when I glanced at online comments a little while ago, some folks said it was too slow, some said too jazzy. We all have our opinions, but I liked it. Thanks to the camera, I even saw a football player with a tear in his eye.
And then the GAME started. I’ll go ahead at this point and admit that I had no idea who would be playing. I did figure that out as soon as they flashed it on the bottom of the screen—the Baltimore Ravens and the San Francisco 49ers. Okay. Now I was set. I settled into my recliner and prepared to watch my first Super Bowl ever. About that time, Larry walked in.
“What on earth are you watching?” he asked. “You don’t like football.”
“I’m trying to change my ways and give football a chance,” I retorted. “I don’t like Doritos either, but I bought some. Go get some Jambalaya, and you’ll see the whole thing in a different light.”
“You have lost your mind,” he replied, sniffing his way toward the aroma coming from the kitchen.
Everybody knows that the best commercials appear during the Super Bowl, but the goat eating bag after bag of Doritos was hilarious. I can’t describe it, but even Larry stopped eating long enough to laugh at that one. Check the Internet if you haven’t seen it. It’s worth the effort.
Then one team scored, I don’t remember which, and . . . . .well, I got bored. I flipped over to see which shows we have recorded and decided to watch “Castle” for a little while.
It wouldn’t take long. By this time, Larry had finished eating and applauded my decision.
We finished “Castle” just in time to flip back for the Pepsi halftime show with Beyonce. I don’t know what to say. I have no words, so I’ll use some other viewers’ comments.
One person said on Facebook, “I felt like I was sitting on the couch watching pornography with my mother-in-law.”
Someone else said, “Maybe there was a bit too much flash, but then again, it was the Super Bowl.”
After half-time, I wandered off to read my book for a while. I gave the Doritos to my grandson Stuart, who likes them almost as much as that goat in the commercial does. I’ll be back in a while, but not for the game. That’s entirely enough football for me for one year, but “Downton Abbey” comes on at 9 p.m.
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