Sports Illustrated is reporting that iconic Rock band The Who will perform at the Super Bowl halftime show in February. Now in the year 6 A.T. (“After Titty”), halftime organizers continue to distance themselves from the horrifying Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake tragedy of Super Bowl XXXVIII, when the world nearly ended because viewers — and innocent, defenseless kids put in front of the TV after ma and pa got too drunk to deal — got a sorta-peak of Janet Jackson’s boobage that was less provocative than a mammogram brochure. The Who follow more recent Super Bowlers like Tom Petty, The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen and Paul McCartney, meaning, with all the biggies pretty much covered, 2011’s halftime show might feature the barrel-bottom likes of Night Ranger and White Lion. Unless the elderly Mr. Daltrey’s balls are hanging out of his shorts again — then it’s back to Up With People every year.
Trees: Still in Danger
You are either reading this online or the old-fashioned way — holding it in your hands, risking ink stains and sparing yourself the urge to look at pornography.
Enjoy having that option while you can. Chances are, if you’re under the age of 70, by the time you die, your reading choices will not include anything using ink and paper (except, of course, alternative newsweeklies, which will thrive and grow to a point where all staffers become multimillionaires). So it’s perplexing to hear that a new music magazine is slated to hit “newsstands” (another new millennium dodo bird) early next year. We’re pulling for M, a new music mag that appears to be aiming for both the music lover and the music maker. Run largely by people from the late Performing Songwriter, which quit publishing this past June, M “will showcase music journalists, photographers, designers and gear experts.” So the business model looks to be something like “dying format covering dying industry and an artform largely experienced via the Internet, launching during a time when many people have no extra money and most people no longer possess the attention span to read the back of a cereal box.” Seems a bit like investing all of your money in Christmas tree futures on Dec. 26.
Where’s The Boss?
Bruce Springsteen might still have the physique of a 20-year-old, but his brain seemed to have more in common with a forgetful senior citizen or stoned teenager during a recent concert. At an arena show earlier this month, after numerous shout-outs to the fine state of Ohio (including a “Hello, Ohio!” that further proves Spinal Tap was more of a documentary than most documentaries), the 60-year-old’s henchman Steven Van Zandt whispered in his ear, presumably to let his boss know that they were in Michigan. Note to gamblers — do not ask Bruce Springsteen for advice on this weekend’s Ohio State/Michigan game.
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