Unbelievably fantastic though the game between the Giants and the Patriots was - and it was the best Super Bowl I've ever seen - the halftime was my place of joy. If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time you have figured out that I 'am a fan' of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. The music fits my world. So does the integrity.
I knew they'd deliver the goods on Sunday and sure enough, it was a class act all the way.
The meanest, nastiest flu I can recall hit me late last week, knocking me out of this world into that weird, head-swimming, delirious world of aches, pains, disorientation, sweat, chills, worry about my family not eating well and what's not getting done (bills to pay, school to teach, the tub needs cleaning, the dog smells houndy, Joe's car's been totalled - does he need help? - and wondering when my arms and legs turned to concrete.) My daughters are the best nurses ever, Joe a most attentive son, and my Tom does the best he can to hold it together. Still, the flu left me looking and feeling like I've spent a week dancing at the Zombie Zoo. Today I saw my reflection in the mirror, making the sight even worse by grimacing in shock.
All this about me to say that even though I had to be escorted to the living room couch with my small cups of gingerale and water along with the saltines that currently follow me everywhere, I was not about to miss Tom Petty in any way shape or form. Silence ensued at half time while two eager generations gathered around the tube to hear Tom and the boys do what they do so well. Fantastic! Flawless! Fun! The best half time in a long long while. No freaks jumping around, rising suddenly amidst smoke from here, sinking into oblivion there, no weird camera angles, no ridiculous pyrotechnics, no lousy music.
Quite the contrary. The boys were decked out beautifully, all handsome, talented, professional, exciting, energized, quietly confident, youthful eyes twinkling, and those smiles! How Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers can sing and play! And create fun. Honed by a decades-long wild ride these men know what works and how to bring it. They did.
Classy in that it felt like they did it for us instead of for themselves.
Tom seemed to be having as much fun as he did all those years ago when it was brand new. There seemed to be an amazed, boyish hint of, "Hey, man, I'm playing for the Super Bowl!" excitement in his eyes. How cool is that.
The arrogant younger stuff might wisely take notes from Sir Petty and his Royal Heartbreakers.
(In case you're wondering, my body is depleted of energy now that I've used what little I had this morning to post this entry - sheepish, foolish, pathetic smile - and I have a ways to go before I am me again. But I've got a few songs in my heart sitting with the worries of the 'undone', and the encouragement to listen to my little nurses: "Get back to bed!!" I'm going. I'm going...)