Super Bowl Aftermath: Halftime

Ever since the Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake nipple-for-a-nanosecond debacle of 2004, the powers that be have been determined to make Super Bowl halftime shows short, to the point and family-oriented if possible - clean with no chance of surprise. I just know that they were folks losing their minds last night when Bruce Springsteen not only went over his time but also started ad-libbing with side man Little Steven Van Zandt. But all worked out, Bruce had aged to the point of harmlessness unfortunately.

Now I'm from New Jersey, so we've been putting up with his nonsense, and for the most part enjoying it, since the mid-1970s. So the nostalgic part of me got a kick out of him and the reunited E Street Band jamming like old friends last night. It actually felt rather cozy like seeing them in small club as opposed to the world's largest theatre. And it was good to hear three songs from from different eras of his career as well - been far too long since I've heard "10th Avenue Freezeout."

But it wasn't all nostalgia and flowers. Was it just me or was everyone waiting for that blood vessel on the left side of Bruce's face to just explode? It came close more than a few times. Dude is unfortunately getting old with the rest of us. And I so did not need to see that crotch slide right into the camera either, and almost right into my living room. Sheesh! Good thing that part wasn't in 3-D. All in all though, an enjoyable halftime performance. I've have enough "boss time" to last a little while longer.