Ever had a Luxardo cherry?
They are the original Maraschino cherry. Imported from Italy, these dark beauties take your drink from “beverage” to “experience.”
Rich and velvety, they have a meaty texture.
In an Old Fashioned or a Manhattan, the bitters and spirits become your journey…the Luxardo is your destination.
But they’re pricey.
Amarena cherries are much less expensive. They’re similar, but smaller and not as transcendent.
However, the store that carries them was much closer.
I looked, couldn’t find them. An employee searched to no avail. A manager checked his computer for the item’s availability and with a straight face said to me, “Nope, don’t have them now. They’re seasonal.”
My face went slack at the dispiriting news. I was incredulous.
I squinted at the manager and slowly shook my head.
“I drink all year.” I croaked, in a voice dry with disbelief.
There was no cherry atop this Super Bowl Sunday, either.
I’m not referring to the Rams loss (necessarily). I’m talking about the entire “SB LIII package” that was delivered after the coin-toss.
Gladys Knight knocked it out of the park with her rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner.”
Some betting pools jokingly proffered that there’d be scoring drives shorter than her version of the anthem.
However, Miss Knight clocked in at 2:05, only 5-seconds longer than Beyonce’s effort during a 2013 press conference.
Please note, Alicia Keys sang the anthem for Super Bowl XLVII…and I hit the lap counter at 2:18 when she started repeating lyrics. The last note limped across the finish-line, like a lame racehorse, just after 2:45.
There was no scoring in the first quarter and only a measly field goal in the second.
The game was interesting from a defensive POV, but after being spoiled by the exciting conference games I expected more from both offenses.
The halftime show was one of the worst.
Much too often the star(s) of the halftime show are well past their prime.
Perennial icons Paul McCartney and Bruce Springsteen were in their 60’s and The Rolling Stones were practically post-mortem.
Other Super Bowl “halftimers” haven’t been musically relevant for years. Madonna and U2 were way beyond their expiration dates.
Even Prince (God rest his soul) hadn’t had a Top-10 hit in 15 years when he performed in the rain at SB XLI.
This year’s band was popular about a decade ago.
Their playlist was boring, their lead singer kept taking off clothes (still not exciting) and their guest artist had to be heavily censored.
They couldn’t perform for a family audience? They shouldn’t have signed…and shouldn’t get paid.
I blame the league.
Katy Perry rode in on a giant metal lion. Lady Gaga did a ceiling-dive into the stadium. But this year we get a male stripper and profanity.
That sucking sound you heard was caused by the commercials.
With the exception of Verizon’s heartfelt “First Responders” the crop was awful.
In the past we watched a guy chase down (and tackle) a cheetah for a can of soda. This year we’re offered a weak rip-off of existentialist Sartre’s “No Exit” where protagonists take an elevator to “their-own-private-hell.”
The Rams had no touchdowns in the lowest scoring Super Bowl ever (13-3).
L.A.’s offense couldn’t find its stride. Out of their 12-possessions, only two were longer than Alicia Keyes’ anthem.
Quarterback Jared Goff was sacked four times and threw an interception on a critical drive. Running back Todd Gurley was rendered completely ineffectual.
The New England Patriots collected their sixth Lombardi trophy.
Head coach Bill Belichick and QB Tom Brady are responsible for every one of them.
MVP of the game was Pats wide receiver Julian Edelman (149-combined yards) whose beard is so unkempt and bushy it looks like Punxsutawney Phil got glued to Edelman’s jaw.
I’m considering starting a “Go-Fund-Me” campaign, to buy him electric sheep shears and some razors…it’s that bad.
Congrats to the Pats.
God Bless and expect the best from the best.
Mark Felicetti drank his whiskey neat during Super Bowl LIII…and straight from the bottle during halftime. Reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.