As I consider myself patriotic, I made it a point to have my rear end firmly parked in a nice chair to watch the Super Bowl. The chair was comfy, drinks were nearby, snacks were plentiful, and my eyes were nearly glazed over from the brilliant technicolor high-definition that was screaming towards me from across the room. (All this has been to say that I was not at my house.)

Overall, I thought this was one of the more enjoyable Super Bowls I’ve seen in recent years, and for the following reasons:

1. The better story won: The Patriots coming away with a win to clinch a perfect season would have been a “good” story. But the fact that brother quarterbacks have both now won a Super Bowl title, and in back-to-back years no less, is a way better story. In fact, I have my doubts that it will ever happen again.
2. Ulrich Schnauss: For a music geek such as myself, there is nothing better than hearing one of your favorite semi-obscure artists finally get their due with some exposure during the highest eyeball time in American television. Hopefully he scored some nice coin off the deal, enough to fund much more music-making.
3. Tom Petty: Although it’s highly possible that he could have been stoned the whole time, Tom put on a pretty good halftime show. It’s nice to see them stick to more “classic” fare in recent years for the halftime shows. Prince last year was also well played. The only thing better would have been if Tom Petty AND Prince could have duked it out with some MMA-style deathmatch.
4. That main referee guy with the dramatic hand motions: Man, did I ever love that head referee guy. His theatrical hand gestures when describing a call were continually threatening to prompt a musical number. The flowery swirl his index finger used for a first down was crying for a “One… singular sensation…”
5. Haddaway: I’ve always held to the idea that the single sweetest job in the history of the world is to be a one-hit wonder. You ride that media machine for a good year or whatever while your single is getting hammered around, and then you just kick back the rest of your life and let people send you royalty checks. Once again publishing royalties are keeping Haddaway stocked up with the good liquor (not the kind in plastic bottles that you’re forced to steal when your life is on the skids). “What Is Love?” Rolling around in money made from those Pepsi ads.