I may have mentioned that I love The Who.
So you can imagine how super-excited I was that they were performing during the Super Bowl halftime show.
Fact: Roger Daltrey can no longer quiiiiiiite hit some of the big notes the way he used to, and he sort of looks like a hobbit now:
Fact: I kept giggling because Pete Townshend's stomach kept showing during their performance. Me: "Honey, Pete's belly is showing!" T: "Uh-huh. When does the football come back on?"
Did the knowledge of these facts mean I didn't squeal and clap my hands EVERY TIME one of the announcers mentioned The Who during the first half of the game, I didn't geek out in a major way when the music and the pulsing lights started, I didn't sing at the top of my lungs on every song and I didn't enjoy every second of their performance SO MUCH MORE than the football game (and the stupid commercials)?
Um, no. It did not. Because I did do all those things, and Pete's belly amused me (as does the word "belly"), and I don't care how much Roger looks like Samwise Gamgee -- I still think he's rather dashing for a 66-year-old.
And when he screamed at the end of Won't Get Fooled Again, I nearly peed my pants. It was fantastic.
As if this wasn't enough, Sirius/XM now has (for a limited time, I'm assuming, although I really hope it's permanent) THE WHO CHANNEL.
All Who, all the time. On the way to work this morning, I heard Squeeze Box, Athena, Pictures of Lily and Real Good Looking Boy.
Um, yes, please?
Sigh.
