Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

46 years of serving pancakes for a cause on Super Bowl Sunday February 2, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:10 AM
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THEY’RE SYNONYMOUS in Faribault—the Super Bowl and pancakes.

For 46 years, the Faribault Lions Club has sponsored a pancake and sausage breakfast on Super Bowl Sunday, raising funds to support projects that adhere to the club motto: “We serve.”

Let me repeat that. Forty-six years. Wow. You have to admire an organization so committed to helping others. The Faribault Lions expect to feed 1,200 – 1,500 and raise $5,000 at their Super Bowl Pancake Breakfast.

Now I’m no fan of pancakes (ranking them right alongside liver) or of football, but I may have to eat pancakes this Sunday simply to support a worthy cause. I’ll skip the football except for the commercials.

The Faribault Lions provide funding for college scholarships, dictionaries for third graders, food for children in need, and assistance for the visual and hearing impaired, among other projects.

While all are worthy causes, the club’s effort on Sunday to collect used prescription eyeglasses and hearing aids and to raise dollars to assist those with visual and hearing impairments resonates with me.

I’ve worn glasses since age four, after undergoing surgery to correct crossed eyes. Without that surgery, I would have gone blind in my “lazy eye.” I value my vision and know that without corrective lenses, I would struggle to see.

Lions Club International’s commitment to helping those with vision issues stretches back to 1925 when Helen Keller presented this challenge during a speech to the Lions:

Will you not help me hasten the day when there shall be no preventable blindness; no little deaf, blind child untaught; no blind man or woman unaided? I appeal to you Lions, you who have your sight, your hearing, you who are strong and brave and kind. Will you not constitute yourselves Knights of the Blind in this crusade against darkness?

And so with that challenge, the Lions became “Knights of the Blind,” collecting and distributing prescription eyeglasses through clinics world-wide. Can you imagine the joy of giving someone the gift of sight?

I just rummaged through a dresser drawer and found four eyeglasses that I can donate to the Faribault Lions Club on Sunday.

The prescription eyeglasses I'm donating.

Faribault Lions have also connected with the Minnesota State Academy for the Blind in Faribault, supporting numerous projects there, including an apartment to teach independent living skills.

My community is home to the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf, perhaps another reason local Lions take such a strong interest in helping those who are hearing impaired.

I am among those with a hearing impairment having lost 70 percent of the hearing in my right ear last March in an episode defined as “sudden sensory hearing loss.” (Click here to read about that.) Unfortunately, a hearing aid will not help with this type of near-deafness.

But for most who suffer from a hearing impairment, a hearing aid will help. The Lions are committed to collecting used hearing aids for distribution to those in need. Can you imagine the joy of giving the gift of hearing?

It’s impressive, isn’t it, how so many worthy causes have evolved from two powerful words: “We serve.”

FYI: The Faribault Lions Club Super Bowl Pancake Breakfast will be held from 7:30 a.m. – 1:15 p.m. on Sunday, February 5, at the Eagles Club, 2027 Grant Street Northwest. Cost is $6 for adults and $4 for those 12 and under.

The Lions are also selling Super Bowl snacks—8-ounce packages of nuts for $5 – $6—to raise monies for their Backpack Blessings Program which provides local children in need with food for the weekends.

It should not go without stating here that many local businesses and volunteers (within and outside of the Faribault Lions Club) contribute to the annual Super Bowl breakfast.

Bring your used prescription eyeglasses and hearing aids, your money and your appetite on Sunday to participate in the “We serve” endeavor.

Click here to learn more about the Faribault Lions Club.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Really, the unbeatable Vikings? And what about that stadium? January 12, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:34 AM
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WITH A CURRENT 3 – 13 regular season record, the Minnesota Vikings rate as anything but unbeatable. You know this. I know this.

So when my husband and I spotted this misplaced “unbeatable” signage posted above a rack of Vikings shirts at a major discount retailer in Faribault recently, we simply had to laugh at the clearly inaccurate message as it relates to the football team’s wins and losses.

Sometimes you have to find the humor in this whole Vikings fiasco. And I’m not talking just the season record here.

NOW THAT I’VE OPENED that topic to discussion, how do you feel about plans for a new Vikings stadium? Do you support a new stadium? Why or why not? If yes, where should the stadium be built and how should it be financed?

Stadium proposals are due in to Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton by 5 p.m. today. State legislators are then supposedly going to resolve the stadium issue during the upcoming legislative session. One can only hope.

Go ahead, submit a comment and tell them what you think.

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Photo by Randy Helbling

 

Packers mania as documented by a Minnesotan January 2, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 2:04 PM
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UNTIL MY SECOND DAUGHTER moved to Wisconsin a year ago, I never realized how fanatical Wisconsinites are about their Packers. Suffice to say that football doesn’t interest me, nor do sports for that matter, which would explain my ignorance on this topic.

But once I grasped the importance of the Green Bay Packers to Wisconsin residents, I decided to make my own sport of this football fanaticism by documenting Packers mania. Now, on every trip across the state to Appleton on Wisconsin’s eastern side, I pull out my camera and scout for signs of Packers craziness. And I mean signs. Literally.

Look at the three billboards I photographed along Wisconsin State Highway 21 and U.S. Highway 41 New Year’s weekend.

Near Omro along Highway 21, I saw this Packers-themed BEEF-FENSE! sign for McDonalds.

Look closely in the middle to read the Miller Lite "Catch great taste" Packers billboard posted along U.S. Highway 41 and photographed late Friday afternoon between Oshkosh and Appleton.

Now if I knew my Packers, I could tell you the name of this player featured on a billboard. Someone help me out here. Who is this player who needs a haircut?

Driving through the community of Wautoma, where my cousin Bev, a former Minnesotan, lives, I spotted these neighboring houses.

Packers fans' houses in Wautoma? Or simply a gold house and a green house?

Now, since I didn’t stop to ask the homeowners, I am uncertain whether these green and gold houses truly symbolize team loyalty or whether the paint color choices were totally based on individual hue preferences. What would you guess? I’d go with the gold as representing the Packers and the green as representing personal color preference.

Walk into almost any Wisconsin business, and you’ll likely see Packers merchandise. At Lamers Dairy in Appleton, where bottled milk is sold along with plenty of Wisconsin cheese, I found Game Time Kettle Korn. I also saw an employee wearing purple. Oh, don’t for a second think it was a Vikings t-shirt. The college freshman was sporting a Winona State University shirt, having crossed into Vikings land for his higher education.

Studio 213, a downtown Appleton business featuring art, handcrafted items and collectibles, yielded customized Bears traps meant to be set by Packers fans.

The traps I found at Studio 213 in downtown Appleton.

Game Time Kettle Korn from Medley Popcorn on the shelves at Lamers Dairy.

And then, of course, Packers jerseys, sweatshirts, t-shirts, jackets and more seem to define Wisconsin fashion. If you want to blend in with the locals, simply slip into Packers attire. They’ll never suspect you’re from Minnesota…

At several months old, baby Leo is already a Green Bay Packers fan.

One more tip: Best travel time through Wisconsin is during a Packers game.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Differences & bridges October 24, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:01 AM
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I WANT TO SHARE two items with you today. Both are different, yet alike, because they’re about differences. Differences between cultures and differences between states.

Humbird Cheese, a popular tourist stop at Tomah, Wisconsin.

Let’s start with the humorous of the two, a little story from my second daughter, who lives in eastern Wisconsin.

Along with a photo, she sent this text message: “They teach them early in wi.”

I studied what appeared to be a child’s drawing of a hefty hunk of cheese and a mouse, along with words too miniscule to decipher on my cell phone screen.

M: “It was a drawing with a haiku in a surgery dept waiting rm. Can u read the haiku or is it too small?”

Me: “I can’t read it.”

M: “It says ‘I love to eat cheese. Swiss Colby pepperjack too. I’m almost a mouse.’ By devon age 9.”

Honestly, don’t you just have to laugh at the subject of this haiku. Of all “the things I love,” this 9-year-old Wisconsinite wrote about cheese?

Would a Minnesota child ever choose to write a cheese haiku?

Wisconsin, I love your cheese, really I do. And I love how your kids love your cheese.

Numerous cultures were represented during the International Festival held in September at Central Park in Faribault. Here singers perform the Mexican national anthem in the band shell.

NOW TO THE OTHER  STORY about differences, written by sports reporter Brendan Burnett-Kurie and published Sunday on the front page of The Faribault Daily News. Here’s the headline for that top-notch feature, which should be required reading in every Faribault (maybe even Minnesota) classroom and home:

“The beautiful team…How the Cannon Valley soccer team bridged cultural gaps and came together around the game they love.”

I tipped Brendan off to this story after my good friend Mike Young told me about the soccer team at Cannon Valley Lutheran High School in Morristown. Mike serves as the school’s volunteer development director. Yes, you read that correctly. Volunteer.

But back to Brendan’s story. He wrote about the school’s recently-rejuvenated soccer team which includes a melting pot of students—of different ethnic backgrounds, different sizes, different ages and from different schools. (CVLHS, with less than 20 students, couldn’t field a team solely from within.)

It’s one of those feel-good stories that make you smile. These boys became a team and became friends. Differences didn’t matter to them. Not differences in their skin colors, their heights, their ages, their shoe sizes, their anything.

Brendan writes: “One day during practice they all took off their shoes and flipped over the tongues, comparing the sizes. Little fourth-grader Yianko Borrego had size 4 feet. The largest were size 13.”

These boys can all teach us a thing or a hundred about acceptance.

FYI: To read Brendan’s outstanding feature, click here.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The $50K decision and what we can all learn September 1, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:15 AM
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ODDS ON PROMOTIONS made the right call Wednesday when it failed to award $50,000 to an 11-year-old Owatonna boy who sunk a hockey puck into a 1.5 by 3.5-inch hole during an August 11 charity hockey event in Faribault.

Nate Smith, who made the shot from 89 feet, wasn’t even supposed to be on the ice. It was his twin brother Nick’s name that was drawn to attempt the shot. But Nick had stepped outside the hockey arena, so Nate subbed for Nick.

Not until the next day did the Smith family reveal to officials that Nate, not Nick, sunk the puck.

That ignited a firestorm of controversy with the story going national. Should the Smiths get the $50,000?

The Reno, Nevada, group insuring the event ruled yesterday that because of legal and contractual issues, the Smiths will not get the $50,000.

That was the right decision, in my opinion, given Nate obviously is not Nick and, although the family told officials the truth the following day, they did not do so initially.

Yet, despite the decision, there are still winners in this story. Odds On Promotions is donating $20,000 in the brothers’ names to youth hockey programs in Owatonna—where the Smith boys play hockey—and in Faribault.

That’s a smart move on Odds On Promotions part. You can’t buy that kind of positive publicity for $20,000. Plus, the substantial gift will calm the ire of those who may disagree with the company’s decision.

The Smiths aren’t complete losers here either. Friday morning they’ll appear on “The Today Show,” according to an article in The Faribault Daily News. Shortly after Nate made the shot and the controversy started, the family was in New York making the talk show rounds.

In summary, we could all learn a lesson from this story about rules, honesty and compromise.

WHAT’S YOUR OPINION on the decision made by Odds On Promotions not to award the Smith family $50,000? Do you agree or disagree? Why or why not?

 

How a loser becomes a champion August 29, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:23 AM
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Northfield NAPA employees, spouses/significant others and guests gathered recently for a backyard pizza party that included bean bag and ladder golf competitions on a perfect summer evening.

IF YOU WERE TO RATE your athletic abilities on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 ranking as Olympic status, how would you rank yours?

I don’t hesitate. Mine would fall off the scale in the minus category. I doubt I possess an athletic bone in my body. And if I do, I haven’t found, or even looked for, it. And I don’t care. I simply don’t care. Sports have never held priority in life. I don’t watch sports, care which team wins or loses, or think athletes are God’s gift to the world.

Personally, my minimal sports participation typically does not involve anything intensely competitive.

That is why, every January and every August, I cringe when I hear that sporting competitions are part of my husband’s company Christmas and pizza parties. I suppose you could then ask, “Why do you go to these parties, Audrey?” And I would tell you because of the superb food and the people.

Everything is homemade, even the dough for the pizza crust.

Fresh ingredients top the pizzas made by Dan, this year with two in-training assistants.

The pizzas are baked in a wood-fired outdoor oven. I would rather eat at Dan and Jan's house any day over dining at a restaurant. And I'm not saying that because Dan's the boss. He and Jan are fantastic cooks.

I’ve tried, oh, yes, I’ve tried to level the playing field. “Can we please play Scrabble?” I’ve asked the husband’s boss several times. Dan just smiles and places me in a bracket along with all the other spouses/significant others and employees. I play along, putting minimal effort into whatever event because I know I’m just not good enough to win. You might say I have a loser’s attitude.

About now you’re thinking, well, with an attitude like that…, and you would be right. But if you were the last kid picked for the softball team, if you were the skinny-armed girl the brawny boys chose to plow through when playing Red Rover, if you struggled with physical education classes under the duress of teachers who expected you to perform as well as the best athlete in the class, if you grew up on a farm and never had the opportunity to participate in sports, wouldn’t you possess an athletic inferiority complex, too?

I thought so.

At the holiday party, I never know which I should wish for—to shoot pool, throw darts or play Wii bowling. All, in my unathletic hands, are potentially dangerous. Thus far I have not inflicted any injuries upon groins or eyes while lining up pool shots or throwing darts. But Wii bowling, which I have not yet attempted, makes me nervous. If anyone could manage to wipe out the boss’ big screen TV, it would be me.

On a recent weekend, when we were in the boss’ backyard for the annual pizza party and I was on deck to play ladder golf with my husband as my partner, I made sure I was flinging the dual golf balls toward the public walking path and not toward the neighbor’s house windows.

Smart woman, I am.

The spouse and I got a bye on the first ladder golf round because the other team didn’t show up. We won the second game in just two throws each. Then suddenly we were in the championship game. How did that happen? I started to get all nervous because a crowd was gathering to watch. If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s a group watching me compete. Throws my game, like I ever had a game anyway.

Neither the husband or I could throw worth a darn. But then neither could the dad half of the other team. The 12-year-old was making us all look like losers, although even I was aiming better than my spouse.

Here I am, posing like one of the girls on The Price is Right. I will keep my day job as a writer and photographer.

After what seemed like an interminably long time of tossing into the blinding sun and facing those pressing crowds (OK, more like a handful of people), we won. I had actually, really, truly won a competitive sporting event.

And I got a prize—a humungous cooler on wheels—which would not fit into the trunk of our car but which my spouse managed to shove onto the back seat. We do not own a compact car; it is a 1995 Chrysler Concorde.

At first I was super excited about my prize. But then I got realistic. I started thinking: “When will we ever use a cooler that big? We’ll need a lot of ice. Hmmm, that will take up a significant storage space that we don’t have in our house. If we haul that in the car, we won’t have room for the boy in the backseat.”

For now we’ve stashed the oversized cooler in the basement and, honestly, it’s bigger than the dorm fridge we have down there for the pop and beer. You could fit a small child inside the cooler. It would make a good toy box if I had kids young enough to need a toy box.

I expect we’ll lug it up the stairs next spring when our youngest graduates from high school and we need a cooler to stash beverages for the graduation party. After that…, well, I don’t know.

But I’ve been thinking… Anybody want to come over for a little Scrabble competition? I’ve got this great prize…

JUST IN CASE THE BOSS is reading this post, thank you for the cooler. It really is a nice prize as is the gift certificate my spouse won to an area chain restaurant. But if I were you, I wouldn’t put me in the Wii bowling competition at the holiday party. Just sayin’.

I could have won this umbrella-dual folding lawn chair set. I like my cooler just fine, thank you.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Take me out to the (vintage) ball game in Faribault August 20, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:05 PM
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Curly Schreckenberg watches the vintage baseball match from his Model T Ford.

FRANK “CURLY” SCHRECKENBERG pulled into the Rice County Fairgrounds in his 1918 Model T Ford, a fitting mode of transportation Saturday afternoon for a vintage baseball game between the Northfield Silver Stars and the Rochester Roosters.

“There’s nothing like old-fashioned,” Schreckenberg said as he sat behind the wheel of his Model T, occasionally glancing over at the competition played with 1860 rules. No gloves. No called balls and strikes. No sliding. No spitting. No swearing…

Striker (batter) up!

Schreckenberg’s a fan of ball games. He played church league softball from age 38 – 71, mostly as a pitcher. “I loved playing ball,” he said. “I loved the fellowship.” He was dressed in the uniform of First English, his team for most of his 33 church league years.

His antique car drew lots of attention from the players and from the crowd gathered Saturday for the vintage match. The Silver Stars whooped the Roosters by a score of 6 to 1. Afterward, the players posed for a team photo by the Model T.

With team members sporting names like Cow Pie, Rabbit, Goose, Woodchuck, Bean Field and Admiral, no one seemed to take the event too seriously. Rather, the match focused more on bringing history to life.

Out on the ball field, the players, dressed in vintage uniforms, tried to stay true to the mid-19th century time period.

The Rochester Roosters, the scorekeeper and the umpire posed for a photo after the match.

Likewise, the Silver Stars from Northfield gathered for a team photo.

“Watch the daisy cutters (sharp grounders),” Rabbit, aka Scott Richardson, from the Silver Stars advised.

“Don’t run me over, Tar Cutter,” another player warned.

“I think the whole team ought to be fined.”

“Way to hustle, Bryan,” a teammate said, slipping up on a name.

Wooden bats clustered on the grass behind the players' bench before the match.

Players munched on sunflower seeds on the Silver Stars bench.

At least one Rochester Rooster player sported period style stockings.

Wooden bats and gloveless hands. Bags of sunflower seeds and peanuts. Wood planks balanced between straw bales. Root beer floats. Bell-ringing when an ace (run) was scored. Good-natured bantering. All set a period mood for the 1 ½-hour match (game) between the two teams.

Occasionally a player pulled a cell phone from a pocket, sipped on Gatorade, clicked a digital camera. Ethnic music from a Hispanic celebration across the fairgrounds carried to the ball field, adding to the relaxed setting.

“It’s a beautiful day for a baseball game,” at least one fan was overhead saying.

Indeed, it was a perfect August afternoon for a vintage baseball match in Faribault, even for someone like me who doesn’t get into baseball, but can appreciate living history.

Fans sat in the sun, but most sat under shade trees for the match hosted by the Rice County Historical Society.

Some attendees even brought vintage style wooden folding chairs.

Roosters' bench time and one dirt and grass-stained white uniform.

A young player for the Rochester Roosters.

The end of the match with the victorious Silver Stars on the right and the Roosters on the left.

FYI: Minnesota has some eight vintage baseball teams, I was told on Saturday by the game’s umpire. Most of those are in the eastern part of the state and include teams like the Apple Jacks from La Crescent, the Afton Red Sox and the St. Croixs. The Minnesota teams also compete with Wisconsin teams like the Osceola Onions and the Milwaukee Cream Citys.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

You call the $50,000 shot August 19, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:19 AM
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IF YOU ARE BITTEN by a bat that flies away, you should expect to undergo a series of rabies shots.

If you win $50,000 while assuming the identity of someone else, you should expect fall-out from your actions.

Right about now you’re likely wondering why I’m writing about bats and bills all in the same post. Well, both made the news in my community of Faribault this week. One has garnered national attention, the other not.

First, the bat bite, not because it’s less important than the $50,000, but because it’s easier to write about and no gray area exists. You get bitten by a bat that can’t be caught, like a 9-year-old Nerstrand boy did in his family’s barn recently, and you get rabies shots. Simple. Black-and-white.

But, if you potentially win $50,000 like 11-year-old Nick Nate Smith of Owatonna did last week by shooting a hockey puck from 89 feet into a 1.5-inch by 3.5 inch hole at a Faribault Hockey Association fundraiser, you’re talking an entirely different story.

On the surface, this would seem black-and-white. Accomplish the amazing feat, win the prize.

However, Nate isn’t Nick. And it was Nick, Nate’s identical twin, whose name was pulled for the chance to score the $50,000 by sinking the puck into that incredibly small space.

The problem, however, is that Nick wasn’t in the hockey arena when his name was drawn, so Nate stepped in for his brother, made the shot and supposedly won the $50,000.

That is until the Smith family admitted to event organizers that Nate had subbed for Nick.

Now a Reno, Nevada, insurance company for the puck-shot event is investigating, the $50,000 payment remains in limbo and the story of the amazing shot and the follow-up controversy has gone national.

In our house, we’ve discussed this whole $50,000 hockey puck debacle numerous times already. Opinions have varied from:

  • Just give the kid the $50,000.
  • Why did the Smiths tell them it was Nate?
  • He doesn’t deserve the $50,000. Nate isn’t Nick and the family wasn’t intially honest.
  • What if a friend had stepped in and taken the shot? Would they give him the money?

Can you guess which comment is mine?

You better believe that the second response, “Why did the Smiths tell them it was Nate?”, is not my statement and resulted in a lecture from me about honesty and how the family eventually would have gotten “caught.”

I don’t pretend to know every detail related to the hockey puck shot event. But I do know this much: Nate isn’t Nick.

NOW IT’S YOUR TURN to offer your opinion. Would you award the $50,000 to Nate Smith? Why or why not? Vote by submitting a comment.

IN A 24-HOUR unscientific online poll conducted by The Faribault Daily News, 63 percent of the 245 respondents said Nate Smith should get the $50,000. Thirty-two percent said he shouldn’t. And five percent checked “I don’t know.”

MEDIA FOCUS on the Smith story has been substantial. Click on the sources below to read some of the coverage.

CBS The Early Show

The Faribault Daily News:  the initial story published on August 12 and a follow-up story published on August 14

ABC News

National Public Radio

BY THE WAY, my comment is the third one: He doesn’t deserve the $50,000. Nate isn’t Nick and the family wasn’t intially honest. Choose to agree or disagree. It’s your shot.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

My Minnesota childhood memories of Harmon Killebrew May 18, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:48 AM
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“BATTER UP!”

His voice cracked like the whack of wood against leather as I stepped up to the plate, bat handle vise-gripped in my hands, feet planted in packed gravel next to the rusted, cast-off disk from the disk harrow.

As my oldest brother lobbed the ball toward me, I swung, and as was typical of me, missed. I was aiming to hit the ball toward the barn and milkhouse at the edge of the farm yard, our ball field.

Almost every evening, as the sun inched lower in the prairie sky toward the greening fields of early spring and then into the hot, humid days of tasseling corn, my siblings and I traded chore gloves for softball gloves. “Let’s play ball,” we’d yell in unison.

And then the arguing would begin. “I’m Harmon Killebrew,” my oldest brother hollered, the name flying off his tongue with the speed of a fast pitch.

No matter how loudly the rest of us protested his call, we struck out. He was the eldest. If he wanted to be Killebrew, then he would be Killebrew.

We assumed the roles of other 1960s Twins greats like Tony Oliva and Rod Carew.

But we all wanted to emulate Killebrew, to swing the bat, to watch the ball powerhouse toward the barn roof, maybe even sail as far as the silo room or the cow yard beyond, well out of reach of our siblings’ outstretched hands.

Such are my memories of the Twins’ home run slugger.

I’ve never been to a Twins game, never met Killebrew, don’t watch or listen to baseball.

Yet, upon learning of Killebrew’s death, a twinge of melancholy swept across me as I thought of those pick-up farm yard softball games, the baseball cards my brothers collected and the static of my eldest brother’s transistor radio broadcasting a Twins game in the 1960s.

For all the sibling bickering over who would pretend to be Killebrew or Carew or Oliva, those post chores games score among the home runs of my rural Minnesota childhood.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Super Bowl entertainment fiasco February 7, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 10:26 AM
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IF YOU WATCHED the Super Bowl, what’s your opinion of the half-time entertainment?

Here’s mine: I did not get it. None of it. Not the words, not the dancing, not the message, not anything performed by the Black Eyed Peas. I couldn’t understand most of the lyrics.

I did not “get” the lead singer’s (sorry, don’t know his name) clear plastic head covering. He didn’t look too comfortable, sweating and all. I did like the group dancers’ glowing costumes. Those were cool.

I’ll admit that I know nothing about the Black Eyed Peas. I struggle, though, to define their “music” as “music.”

But then 70s era music is my music. And let me tell you, THAT was music—Chicago, Bread, the Moody Blues, Elton John, Rod Stewart…

This Black Eyed Peas stuff is not music, in my fifty-something opinion.

So…, the half-time show disappointed me, big-time. Half-time is one of the two reasons I sometimes, and I mean sometimes, watch the Super Bowl. I also, sometimes, watch the game to see the commercials. I could care less about the football.

I didn’t see every ad, but here’s my take on those: Way too many car commercials. Didn’t we just bail out the auto makers a few years ago and now they are spending millions on 30-second spots? That doesn’t sit right with me. I know, I know, there’s more to the story than that, but I’m just giving you my gut taxpayer reaction.

I don’t know why this surprises me, but I also thought too many commercials were too sexist and too violent. Can’t give you specifics because I didn’t take notes, but I recall a club and fire, weapons and long legs and…a guy ordering flowers…

My favorite commercial—monkeys running across the tops of cars with brief cases—made me chuckle. Sorry, I can’t tell you what they were advertising, so I guess that ad probably failed.

Then to top it off, Christina Aguilera messed up on the National Anthem, singing “What so proudly we watched at the twilight’s last gleaming” instead of “O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming.”

Come on. I admit, I could probably flub The Star Spangled Banner too, but I’m not a professional performer.

At least the Green Bay Packers won the game. I was rooting for them, sort of, when I wasn’t reading the newspaper, clipping coupons and falling asleep on the couch.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling