Morning in America

We come on the ship they call The Mayflower

We come on the ship that sailed the moon

We come in the age's most uncertain hours

And sing an American tune

-Paul Simon

Feeling a little more optimistic about our prospects as a country after last night's Super Bowl.

The ads were funny and kind. The one by the Blue Square Alliance entitled "Sticky Note" brought tears to our eyes, dragging this modern wave of antisemitism into view.

Robert Kraft paid for the ad. The owner of the Pats. A good buddy of the worst president in American history. Life is complicated.

We were treated to a spellbinding rendition of Lift Every Voice and Sing, the black national anthem, by Coco Jones. And Brandi Carlisle's America the Beautiful was, well, beautiful, slightly mournful with a spare guitar and violin accompaniment. I'd never heard of Charlie Puth, but his Star Spangled Banner was maybe the best I've every heard before a Super Bowl. Of course, America's Air Force nailed the flyby, and I particularly enjoyed the fist bump between pilot and co-pilot of the B-1 (the "Bone" if you're an AF guy) as they blew past the stadium in full afterburner.

But that halftime show! Wow, just wow.

I didn't understand a word of it, but I didn't need to. I could follow the story, of Puerto Rico and its traditions, food, culture, and of course music.

I know what you're wondering right now, as was I during the show. It appears to be a 1970 Ford F100 pickup. Hoping he didn't dent the roof too badly. That's a beauty.

What felt best about the show, about the whole evening, was the sense that the bad guys have already lost. This is America, this is now. This is what I'm seeing walk past under our window in the Lower East Side as I type this. The geriatric white Christian nationalists and their incel goon squads can't match the energy, that secret weapon of joy and life as protest against those trying to sweep the tide of history back with a broom. Watching Bad Bunny perform, watching hours and hours of ads and programming last night that featured every type of person living here in this incredibly diverse country, one could almost feel the wave rising beneath all of us, this thing of such force and inevitability that it can't be stopped.

Makes me want to cross the bridge this week to partake of a little Puerto Rican cuisine at the Caribbean Social Club over in Brooklyn--the owner was the guy who shared a shot with Bad Bunny during the performance.

We need to embrace all this, because it's here whether everyone approves or not.

And it's all pretty good. Certainly better than whatever Kid Rock was lip-syncing over on the TP USA spectacle.