Tag Archives: lights

My Super Bowl Recap

I hung out on Facebook during yesterday’s Super Bowl.  Hey, am I allowed to say “Super Bowl” without paying the NFL some chunk of money?  Probably not.  Alright, starting over… I hung out on Facebook during yesterday’s “Big Game”.  In years past, I focused only on the game—no other media required, needed, or desired.  This year, I tried to keep up with the social media frenzy.  Although, I still don’t have a Twitter account.  So here is the recap of my running Big Game commentary.

I’m a big American football fan, but I’m a bigger fan of Super Bowl commercials.  This year wasn’t the greatest, but I still enjoyed the effort put forth by those filthy rich companies.

To get the ball rolling, I put up the following Facebook status.

“Anything interesting on television tonight?”

I know, not incredible funny, but one particular response made my day.  This person responded with, “Nope, I’ll probably just sit around reading your book.”  The genius of this response has made him my new best Facebook friend.  He rocks.

My next update went like this.

“Ray Ray go away.  Come back another day—or not.”

Now you know that I wasn’t cheering for the Ravens.  Too bad they won the game.

Oh man!  That should have had the spoiler alert in front of it!  Sorry about that.

During the opening ceremony there was an individual on the field participating the singing of America the Beautiful and the National Anthem by providing the sign language for the deaf people out there watching.  It’s nice to cater to them, make them feel like a part of the party.  No problem there.  But there was a huge problem with that guy’s hair.  It was a mix between a toupee and fresh road kill in the pouring rain.  It was so awesome!  So I posted this.

“How do you sign the words ‘bad hair piece’?”

sign guy 2

Superbowl Sign Language Guy

I think this guy had a wonderful command of the signed language but I had doubts about his vision.  Clearly he was blind, because he sure didn’t see himself in the mirror before standing in front of millions of people.

Hey Marcus.  That was mean.   Sorry.

“Oreos are in first place.”

This was posted in reference to the Oreo commercial that had people “arguing quietly” in a library.  The argument escalates and things get broken and cars end up crashing through the walls.  All the while, people continued to whisper the whole time.  The best whisperer was a police officer with a bull horn—which produced a whisper.  I think this was the best commercial.  I might be biased to Oreos.  The greatest chunk of trans-fat/lard that this world has ever produced.  Yum!

Next up was Calvin Klein and their stud muffin boy flexing and stretching in his fancy underwear.  The commercial concluded by noting the name given to these drawers.  The underwear was branded with the name “Concept”.  This makes me want to run right out and buy a six pack of tighty whiteys right now.

“Hey Calvin, what is the new ‘Concept’ in underwear? I thought the only idea was to keep your stuff from touching your jeans.”

How about a little bit of football commentary?

“Grade school coverage.”

The 49-ers blew deep coverage that led to an easy touchdown for the Ravens.  I don’t want to talk about it.

Next up was the half time show.  It was produced by Pepsi.  Beyoncé danced, sang, wiggled, and bounced.  Real family style entertainment.  No wardrobe malfunction, but there were so many opportunities.  So I posted the following.

“Super Boob half time show. Oh sorry, did I say boob. I meant bowl. Super bowl half time.  My bad.”

The lights were flashing, the flares were firing, and the lasers were beaming.

“This hurts my brain. I just had my third seizure.”

The wardrobes were actually designed to malfunction.  The fact that they did not malfunction was actually a malfunction which left millions of middle aged men across the globe who would never even consider going to a Beyoncé concert feeling a little bit disappointed.

“Victoria’s secret half time show sponsored by Pepsi.”

After the half show peep show, most of the lights went out in the stadium.  An odd freakish thing.  The television booth commentators were cut off and they had to go to the side line reporter to continue the voice commentating.  The “lights out” thing lasted about a half hour.  The people on the screen where desperate to fill the down time with anything they can think of.  They reviewed the game highlights, talked about the stadium lights, they discussed the safety of the spectators.  And then they did it again.  And again.  It felt like hours to us and probably days to them.

“Nothing better than filler commentating.”

They also ensured the viewing audience that play will resume as soon as the lights come back up.  I heard them say it at least five times.  Really?  Do you really think they needed to tell us that the biggest game of the year will continue?

“This just in. After the lights are fully restored, play will resume. Really? Because I thought they were about to call it a draw, make the teams hold hands, and skip down the field singing ‘Why Can’t We Be Friends’”.

Jim Nantz, the commentator in the booth, finally had his microphone turned back on.  One of the first things that he said on air to his booth partner was that his partner needed to tell everyone else before he plugs in his phone charger.  Oh, Jim, stop!  You’re killing me.

“Nantz had at least 27 minutes to come up that phone charger joke. Someone needs to cut the power on his mic again.”

They played the camera shot that capture the moment when the lights went out about five or six times.  Even if you didn’t catch it in real time, I think you can picture the scene.  One moment the lights were on.  The next moment they were off.  You can in fact reproduce the effect with your kitchen light switch.  You can do so by flipping the switch.  Go on and try it.  You can pretend that you spent a thousand dollars on a Super Bowl ticket.  Go stand by the light switch and then flip it off.  Wait thirty minutes and then turn them back on.  Wow!  It’s just like you were there, and way cheaper!

“I need to see the replay of the lights going out in slow motion. Did they really just show that again?”

Back to the commercials.  There was a multi-million dollar beer commercial that had a singing fish.

“I’ve always said, singing fish can sell beer.”

I’m always saying that!  A fish who sings can make a perfect beer commercial.  Now, take that same singing fish and try to sell a car.  No way.  It won’t work.  Singing fish can only sell beer.  …and McDonald’s fish sandwiches.  Yeah, those too.

I don’t know if other people picked up on this little fact, but the announcers made such a big deal about how one of the team’s kickers was already out on the field as they introduced his team when they all came running out of the tunnel.  I guess it was a little odd, but not really a big deal.  The announcers brought up this story about four times as if it was affecting the game play.

“The kicker was on the field before all the other players. This is important because… Oh wait. It’s not important at all, but if we keep saying it, it might become important.”

Well that’s about it.  My commentary slacked off near the end of the game because my team put together a last minute drive right down to the end zone.  They almost won the game!  Which is exactly the same thing as losing.  I don’t want to talk about it.

Oh, one more thing.  My spell checker has pointed out that “Superbowl” is actually two words.  I checked with the NFL and in fact it is two words.  It was my mistake (I corrected them all already).  The interesting thing here is that the spell checker suggested two possible corrections.  The first correction was in fact to include the space: “Super Bowl”.  The second suggestion was far more interesting:  “Superb Owl”.  How awesome is that?

If I were to add an additional team to the NFL, I would make sure that the team mascot would be the Owl.  The team would be the Superb Owls.  Year after year, they would have the Super Bowl built right into their team name!  It would be destiny every year.

Buy my Super Book (or my Superb Ook).

Lights Out

This is one of those iffy subjects.  I am wondering if I can pull this off without offending and bothering you.  By you, I mean specifically you.  You know who you are.  If you don’t, that would be an odd thing.  Perhaps you are in a coma and don’t know you anymore.  Sad really.  But since you are reading this, I would guess that you are alive and well.

The topic pertains to the bathroom which is one of my favorite topics when I am trying to produce something that will make you smile.  Producing humor that is, not anything else that you may or may not have been thinking.

You have to understand that I am a man.  I’m a grown man–someone who is raising a family.  I have my fair share of responsibilities and I am a decent member of society.  However, you also have to understand that before all of my so called maturing happened, I was a little boy.  And after that, I was a male teenager.  And then for a while, I was a guy in college.  Poo-poo jokes and embarrassing situations revolving around the bathroom are something that I embrace.  I can’t not smile when I am confronted by a story that involves gas or someone caught with their pants down.  I have to admit and acknowledge that its part of me.  It makes me, me.  I’m ok with it.

So, that being said and understood, I’m entering a small public restroom the other day.  It’s a nicely constructed with all the newer no-touch devices—lights, toilet flusher, sink water, towel dispenser, etc.  I walk in the lights click on automatically.  I proceed to the stall, to do what people do in a stall.  No details needed there.  You get the picture.  (“Everyone Poops” is a great book.  Look for it if you have never seen it.)

Then some time passes.  I’m not known for being fast at this “particular activity”.  If a book or a magazine is handy, I’ll take in a few stories.  But honestly, who wants to be known for either outcome: fast or slow.

“Hey, isn’t that Marcus over there?”

“Yeah, man it is!  Boy, he can move fast.”

It’s a good compliment for a football player, baseball player, or a track star, but not for someone seeking to relieve their biology.

Anyway, time passes and the sensor and timer controlling the automatic lights conspire against me as they make the decision that there is no longer anyone in the bathroom.  Lights out!  All at once, I am subjected to total darkness.  It’s alarming and very hard to describe the feelings that rush over you in that small moment of time.  In an emergency, the battery back-up lights would kick on, but this is no emergency.  This is simply an energy saving piece of electronics doing its job.

I think to myself for a plan.  This is a problem I can solve.  I’ll stand up and wave my hands around in order to make the lights click back on.  I do just that.  Nothing.  I’m in the stall with my pants at my ankles flapping my arms so hard I nearly took flight.  Nothing.  Still total darkness—like complete total darkness.  Ok.  I’ll open and close the stall door real fast.  Nothing.  No effect.  Darkness continues.  I can’t believe that the sensor isn’t covering the entire room, but it makes sense.  The sensor is designed to watch the door only, not the entire bathroom.  Despite my situation, I can actually appreciate this design.  I have issues when it comes to devices that “watch” humans in the bathroom.  I’m not a fan of the auto flusher.  First off, it’s watching me sit there.  It sees me.  Creepy.  Secondly, I always cover that “eyeball” with a piece of toilet paper so as to avoid the premature flush.  Nothing worse.

I have a friend on Facebook that posted one of those one-liner jokes that makes its rounds on the internet every so often.  “How does a blind person know when he is done wiping?”  It’s a great question.  Great question.  Well the memory of reading that really hit home just then.

This is the touchy part that might cause you to never return to my reading ever again.  I’ll do my best not to lose you.

I do what I can in total darkness to clean up my… situation.  I am, at this moment, in every aspect of the description, a blind man.  Ok, moving on.  I raise my pants and fix my belt.  I then do the mad dash out of the stall toward the door.  The lights click back on and I reverse the mad dash back into the stall.  In fact, if you had the chance to see me, you would have said, “Wow, that Marcus really moves fast.”

I realize that since no one actually saw me dealing with this whole incident, the story becomes somewhat anti-climatic.  But there I was, back in the stall.  (This is the part where losing you really concerns me).  I return to the seated position in order to check my work.    Let’s just say, as a blind man, I did good work.  Although I still don’t know the answer to that great question—how do they know?

While washing my hands, I had one more flashback.  A long time ago when I was just a little punk, probably somewhere around nine years old, I had a friend named Dave (no last name given in order to protect his identity).  We found it amusing to kill the lights in public bathrooms as we ran out the door when we observed someone’s feet occupying a stall.  We would hear these people’s shocked voices echoing out, “Hey, turn the lights on I’m still in here!” as we were running out the door casting them into total darkness.  We would laugh so hard.

Now, it is so clear that I must apologize to those unknown peoples that we tormented so long ago.  I understand now exactly what they were feeling.  Exactly.  What goes around comes around.

I am sorry.

I wonder if they ever wrote out their story.  Probably not.

Oh, and if I offended any blind people actually reading this story… oh wait, never mind.

buy my book!