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(Continued from Part 1 of Adventures in a Super Bowl City.)

When we last left our hero, he was wandering the soggy streets of Tampa, absorbing the enthusiastic insanity of the 2009 Super Bowl.

Scene 1: A Friday. The tide has changed. What was once a beign tourist movement has become an invasion. Although the influx of Steeler Faithful outnumbers the Cardinal Crew by nearly 100 to 1, both parties have taken over our hero’s city, leaving him to be a pawn in the great game of advertising promotions and drunken revelers.

Our hero yearns to have his city back.

Setting: The mythical land of Bow Wow Wonderland. Similar to Donald Duck in Mathmagic Land (three part refresher: One, Two, and Three), our hero is lost, with only his wits to guide him.

“Mighty strange,” our hero says as he enters the bacchanalian complex.

Our hero is approached by four carnival giants, who together speak with one mind, each only saying one word of a sentence. Our hero is forced to put the giants in the correct order to find his way.

“Go to the BootyVille,” they instruct our hero.

Scene 2: BootyVille. An area within Bow Wow Wonderland, BootyVille’s inhabitants are stuck in a rhythmic trance. They are unable to stop their movements, gyrating, twisting, and turning until the break of dawn. There are also many worshippers in BootyVille, all of whom are also in a trance, unable to stop staring at the inhabitants, transfixed by their hypnotic moneymakers.

The dancing inhabitants speak in a vibrating rhythmic cadence. They tell our hero that he must visit the Highizzle Chiefizzle of Bow Wow Wonderlandizzle, Snoopizzle D-O-Double Gizzle. Only the High Chief knows how our hero can make his city safe and stop the invading hordes.

Scene 3: The Temple of the High Chief. The High Chief is not unlike The Who’s Tommy, with his ability to sing insightful life lessons in front of the thousands who flock to hear his words. The High Chief knows of the ways of the street, the ways of the ladies, and the sweet science of hydroponics.

Our hero asks the High Chief how he can reclaim his city. The High Chief responds by singing three important lines.

First, “It ain’t no fun if the homies can’t have none.”

Second, “baby boy looks just like you“.

Third, “the princess was starin, while holdin a drank / Reflected from her eyes was gold tank
She waved her hands like, ‘Hello! Hi!’ / Then gave another gesture like, ‘Come here, guy!’“

Enlightened, our hero finds his way out of Bow Wow Wonderland, knowing what he has to do to save his beloved city. But he does not have much time.

Check out the exciting conclusion in Part 3 of Adventures in a Super Bowl City!

Setting: A dark and rainy Thursday night in Tampa, Florida, host city of the Super Bowl. The city was decorated for the event and the partiers had already arrived.

Scene 1: Our hero, along with several friends, meets NFL Hall of Famer and television personality Michael Irvin at a Florida Championship Wrestling event.

(Note: Rumor has it MR. Irvin read The Serious Tip’s “11 things to do in Tampa while you are waiting for the Super Bowl” and learned that Thursday night is the night to watch wrestling and hang with the Afro-Squad.)

Being the affable fellow that he is, Mr. Irvin responds to their fanaticism with a Coke and smile, minus the coke.

Scene 2: Our hero leaves the FCW arena and decides to walk the historical Channelside District looking for celebrities and Super Bowl-related set-ups.

He discovers a giant illuminated football, the guardian of the ESPN studio area. Here our hero must pass a rigorous test that only he can ask himself, while he himself is the only one who knows the answers.

After deciphering his self-created riddle, our hero passes through the threshold of the illuminated guardian, valiantly claiming the ESPN area as his own domain and marking his territory with photo opportunities.

Prior to leaving the ESPN domain, our hero attempts to intercept the transmission of ESPN’s flagship broadcast with his own visage.

To paraphrase the words of the great DJ Khaled, our hero “is taking over, one city at a time”.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Part 2 as our hero travels to the Land of Bow Wow Wonderland, Home of the High Chief.
Click here for Part 2 of Adventures in a Super Bowl City.

There is no doubt the Super Bowl is the biggest sporting event in America. It is our yearly version of the World Cup and the Olympics. It is probably the most watched event on television throughout the year. People gather from near and far to watch, even if they are not football fans. It is the most unofficial holiday in the United States.

But that of course, is in America. Is the Super Bowl just as popular overseas? What about in Canada or Mexico?

As usual, during the hype that is Super Bowl week, the NFL is quick to claim the absolute popularity and reach of American football. In 2007, the NFL purported that the Super Bowl was broadcast in 232 countries and in 33 languages. In last year’s Super Bowl was not only the highest rated Super Bowl in American history with 93 million viewers, but also was seen by 11 million Canadian viewers. That means, based on my archaic math, a higher percentage of Canadians (33%) tuned in than American viewers (31%).

However large its viewing audience, the Super Bowl’s magnitude of viewers and impact on worldwide culture does not make American football a prominent international game. I would guess American football is still behind soccer, golf, basketball, hockey, and baseball on the totem pole of global sports.

American football still has a long way to go in regards to international players as well. Whereas the other three major American sports (hockey, basketball, and baseball) all have notable stars from other nations, where are the foreign-born Pro-Bowlers? According to Sportsjunkie.info,

“The NFL is the only one of the four leagues not to have seen a dramatic increase in foreign-born players. It has held steady at a rate below 3% for more than 20 years. In fact, only 51 of the league’s 1,841 players in the NFL this season were born outside the U.S; seven of them were born in Canada. It’s interesting to note that Jamaica sent the most foreigners, nine, to the NFL in 2002. We North Americans know about the pattern of baseball imports from the Carribean, and hockey and basketball imports from Europe, but there is no such pattern in football.”

Despite the growth in Super Bowl viewership, the numbers of foreign-born football players trying to make it in the NFL actually decreased recently after increasing nearly 100% since the late 1990s. In 2006, there were 109 foreign-born players in NFL training camps. The following year, in 2007, there were only 99.

So far, the NFL has not been able to translate international viewing interest into athletic interest. Despite entities such as the International Development Practice Squad Program, the NFL still lags considerably behind the NBA, NHL, and Major League Baseball in international talent.

My guess is that the current low level of internationality will persist in the NFL for at least for another few years. During that time, Hockey and Basketball will continue to prosper through their respective world-wide independent leagues, and Baseball will lean on its ability to run international academies and training facilities to acquire international talent. But for now and the near future, the National Football League, the sport that most transends American culture, will stay the least international of the major American sports. Even if you can watch the Super Bowl in Zimbabwae.

Sometimes there is nothing.

Sometimes nothing is everything.

Sometimes all we have is idea that we will have something more than nothing.

Sometimes we beg for anything.

Then there are the few times when we think we can scrape up all the remnants of past thoughts and attempt to concoct a gumbo worthy of being what we want.

Sometimes we stare a blank screen.

Sometimes the keyboard stares back.

Sometimes looking for that first thought is like looking for a word that rhymes with “orange”.

Sometimes we attempt to break the silence.

Of course, the wizened philosophs of yesteryear would say that no thought should be captured lest you dwell on one issue. It is far better to let it go and keep your mind at peace.

Sometimes it is far too late for conscious thought.

Sometimes walking away seems like the better choice.

Sometimes the well looks empty.

Sometimes the spigot runs dry.

In these situations, time often becomes your worst enemy. The clock ticks away the seconds, minutes, hours, pecking on your cerebral cortex like a vulture on carrion. Yet the need to do what is required pushes you forward, weighing on you all the while. You wish you never took on this voluntary responsibility. But you are the best for the moment. And the moment is yours.

Sometimes repetition becomes your best friend.

Sometimes literary devices provide the ideal crutch.

Sometimes you mail in a blog post.

Sometimes you let it ride, writer’s block be damned.

One of the best things about the Super Bowl coming to Tampa is the wide array of events that accompany the big game. There are autograph signings, free concerts, parties with celebrities and debutantes, and plenty of fun and games that help get the mind right for football.

One of the most interactive of these events is the NFL Experience, the National Football League’s exhibit extravaganza that allows fans to get into the game and learn about football at its most grand scale. This year’s NFL Experience is located right outside Raymond James Stadium is definitely worth the $18.50 admission cost (plus $10 dollars for parking).

Here are a few pics:

Amidst all the pomp and circumstance that was President Obama’s inauguration, one subtle fact nearly slipped through the cracks. According to the UK Telegraph, beers at at least one of the presidential inaugural balls were deemed at bit on the pricey side for those already having to buy tickets to rub elbows with the new commander-in-chief. To quote,

“In a sign of the financial times, guests who already paid anywhere from 75 dollars (£54) for a ticket to thousands more for a package deal, had to buy their own drinks served in small plastic cups.

Beer went for six dollars (£4.30), cocktails for nine dollars (£6.40) and champagne for 12 dollars (£8.50).”

Six dollar beers, huh? I hate to say this, but that’s it? I wish the article had said how many ounces were in those “small plastic cups” because beer at Tropicana Field is a little bit more expensive.

So jumping to conclusions, let me see if I have this right, beer prices for the rich and powerful are less than beer prices for the average baseball fan? And don’t give me the “beer prices are high at the ballpark to deter drunken misconduct” rationale. My guess is that more people were tipsy at the Presidental Balls than at an average game at the Trop.

So while the government is dishing out funds, how about a few million to consumers of fermented hops and barley? How about evening the cost for the rest of us to have a frosty brew? We can’t have the fat cats and the power elite pay less, while we pay more.

We need a beer buyer’s bailout.

I was born nearly 30 years after the end of World War II and nearly 10 years after Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. I didn’t read about Lindbergh’s flight in the newspaper or hear Dr. King speak on the radio or trek to Woodstock to listen to Jimi perform his National Anthem. I came into the world during a gas crisis overlapping a post-Vietnam malaise, two years prior to an Iran hostage crisis. I arrived during an American funk that had never really lifted.

Until this past Tuesday. Until the inauguration of Barack Obama as president of the United States.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those Obama worshipers who believe the man walks on water or that he will wave a magic wand and fix America in one fell swoop. That’s not it at all. And whether or not I voted for him or believe in his political views is also irrelevant. What is important is that his election and the ceremony of his swearing in (however awkward the actual swearing was) has given America a great moment in which to be proud. The greatest American moment of the last 30 years. The greatest American moment of my lifetime.

Granted, there have been other patriotic moments since 1977. There was the 1980 Olympic hockey game victory over the Russians. There have been successful military operations in Grenada, Panama, Bosnia, and Iraq (the first time). There was the outlasting and capitalistic outmuscling of the Soviet Union. But for every achievement, there have been more negative tragedies: the terrorist attacks on 9/11/01, Hurricane Katrina, the Oklahoma City Bombing, the LA riots, the recent economic halt. The list goes on and on, overshadowing American achievements and permeating my pride with cynicism and negativity.

But now I have my moment. My first truly American, could-only-happen-in-the-greatest-county-in-the-world moment. A moment that will be discussed in the annals of American history for ages to come. A moment my grandkids will be studying. I look forward to the day when they will look at pictures of the millions of people in Washington, DC and see images of the first minority president and ask, “Where were you when that happened, Grandpa?”.

(Before Tuesday, the only moment I could imagine being asked where I was when it happened was the attacks on 9/11/01. That was my moon landing and my Kennedy assassination wrapped up into one.)

Oddly enough however, I have a creeping feeling that the inauguration of President Barack Obama will inevitably usher in a new era of conservativism. A conservativism in which his inauguration becomes the highpoint of American achievement. A time when the inauguration becomes one of those landmark moments my generation will point to and say “America was great when …”. Of course, then when American pride goes into a new malaise, as it most inevitably will, a new younger generation will clamor for change. And if history is any example, my generation will push back, resisting large scale changes to our way of life. After all, aren’t we the generation that put the first non-white president in office? Won’t our America be good enough?

Funkateer, Prophet, and you knew it was going to happen eventually.

George Clinton was right. The funk has finally taken over. The White House has changed. We left The Man holding his sore butt out on the curb and we partied the night the away.

Hey, uh, we didn’t get our forty acres and a mule / But we did get you.

Way back B.O. (Before the New Pres, you know who), the Real Clinton sang about foregoing the 40 acres and mule and going straight for the Chocolate City. It was no dream. Banishment for the establishment, you know what I am saying?

You don’t need the bullet when you got the ballot / Are you up for the downstroke, CC?

The Real Clinton spoke of a day when the Greatest of All Time, Cassius Clay Muhammad Ali, would be in the White House and Miss Aretha Franklin would be the First Lady. Thirty-three years later (the lifetime of Christ, by the way), Ali was at the Capitol and Miss Aretha sang for the First Lady. It all makes sense. This is the way it was destined to be. Too bad Richard Pryor left for brighter pastures. You know he was smiling down on us.

And when they come to march on ya / Tell ‘em to make sure they got their James Brown pass

Three-quarters of a score plus one year ago, the Real Clinton again dropped a bomb on The Man. Along with Cube, Dre, Kam, Yo-Yo, the Chilis, Flav and Chuck D, G.C. had us hoping for a new color at the lead domicile. The hope of the Funk was still burning in hearts of the true Funkateers. New generations were marching to the beat, one million strong rising to the street. But like Gil Scott said, “things were better, things were changing, but things were not together“.

Picture this, paint a picture picture perfect, paint a perfect picture, paint a picture.

Then it all came together. The stars aligned, a smidge more than half the people rose as one, and the Funk beamed through the interplanetary cosmos down to Washington, DC and tore the roof off the sucka. It rode in on an Atomic Dog, came full blast through the Bop Gun, and forced The Man to bow down to the movement. Even Sir Nose knows what’s up now. You see him dancin’, doing the Aqua Boogie. It’s cool.

Although this week represented a huge step, we still have miles to go. We have not yet achieved collective Funkentelechy. The Zone of Zero Funkativity is still prominent in many parts of our worldly habitation. But we are moving in the right direction and if we keep going The Man won’t be anything more than nothing.

Long live the Funk.

Instead of writing lengthy prose about the upcoming big game here in Tampa (by the way, welcome Steelers and Cardinals fans) or waxing poetic about Barack Obama or Martin Luther King (who I did meet once, but he thought I was somebody else), I am just going to give you a bunch of links. I’m lazy.

1) Here is a cool video from Metacafe of Jim Morrison of The Doors when he was at Florida State:

2) This website listed all musicians throughout the world who died in 2008. It starts in December, and has links for all the other months. Sadly, it’s a long list.

3) Brian, formerly known as The Cavalier, gives advice for aspiring screenwriters. One day I am going to famous for writing something thanks to Brian’s advice.

4) In mid-November I wrote a post lamenting the loss of Sirius Radio’s old-school hip-hop channel. Well, the long national nightmare is over. Sirius/XM decided to acquiesce to the demand of its members and bring back Backspin. Don’t call it a comeback, the Backspin is back.

5) Here is a book about the ballads of drug dealers in Mexico and the Southwest United States.

6) Here is an interesting video of beach wrestling in Senegal. It ain’t quite WWE, but I think it’s interesting nonetheless.

Enjoy. I’ll be back later in the week.

The Super Bowl is barely two weeks away. Two lovely, glorious weeks that can not pass fast enough.

Here in Tampa, ground zero for Super Bowl XLIII (or 43 for the non-Latin counters), you can almost taste the tension. You can feel the fervor. And you can definitely hear the hype. The news can’t stop talking about the game, people are already planning their parties (or some cases, their escapes), and the fan bases of the four teams left in the postseason chase are making their travel arrangements. There is no doubt thousands upon thousands of fans are coming to Tampa by land, by sea, or by air.

According to the local news, most fans will be arriving sometime during Super Bowl week, with at least a few days to spare before the big game. No doubt, many fans will spend more than a few days in Tampa. So for these fanatical followers of the hallowed pigskin, I present a local resident’s 11 ways to keep occupied while you wait in joyous anticipation for kickoff.

11. Visit the carnies – Just outside of Tampa lies the sleepy little town of Gibsonton, winter home of generations of circus folk. According to Tampa Bay Online, carnival workers have been coming to Gibsonton since at least the 1930s. Kinda like the Super Bowl in a way. (For more on Gibsonton, check out this History Channel video.)

10. Search for ghosts – Like most areas with history, the Tampa region has its share of places seeped in the paranormal. According to this USA Today article, there are haunted hotels, bookstores, bridges, and theaters. There are even stories of ancient buccaneer Jose Gaspar haunting his old stamping grounds. For more, check out the SPIRITS of St. Petersburg.

9. Watch some rasslin’ with the Afro-Squad – I’ll admit, this is a shameless plug, as I am a card-carrying member of the Afro-Squad. But the fact is every Thursday night the Afro-Squad meets up to watch Florida Championship Wrestling live and in action. Located on one of Tampa’s main roadways, Dale Mabry Blvd, FCW is the top minor league of the WWE. Here is where the stars of tomorrow perfect the skills that will launch their careers. And there to root them on is a bunch of people of all ages in Afro wigs and sunglasses. Don’t worry if you don’t have a ‘fro, we usually bring extras.

8. Check out some tunes – Although cities such as Chicago, Nashville, and Austin have far lengthier histories and more vibrant music scenes, Tampa has it’s niche in the American music scene. Going back, Tampa can lay claim to two very influential figures: Hudson Whittaker, a.k.a “Tampa Red“, and Ernest Evans, a.k.a “Chubby Checker“. (As the name implies, blues legend Tampa Red hailed from Tampa prior to making it big in Chicago and although Mr. Checker wasn’t from Tampa, he did get the inspiration for The Twist from some Tampa teens.) Today the legacies of Tampa Red and Chubby Checker are alive and well at places such as Skipper’s Smokehouse, where you can get a fantastic fish sandwich while listening to the best of local funk, rock, and blues.

7. Hit up the Original Hooters – Not far from Tampa, in beautiful Clearwater, Florida lies the mecca of all that is good. A place where the beer is cold, the wings are hot, and the girls wear little orange shorts. Of course, I am talking about Hooters. Not just any Hooters, but the first ever Hooters. Now you can see up close and personal where the dream of world run by Hooters began. And what a world it will be.

6. Rock out with your chips out – Since the Super Bowl won’t be held in Las Vegas anytime soon, Tampa may just have the closest gambling spot to any Super Bowl-hosting stadium: the Seminole Hard Rock Casino. What can be more alluring than slots, poker, buffets, and walls and walls of rock’n'roll memorabilia? I can almost guarantee the casino will be the place to be, full of celebrities and VIPs from the A-list to the D-list. Be on the look out for famous gamblers Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, and ESPN writer Bill Simmons.

5. Chat with a chimp or curse in fluent kangaroo – Step away from the urban jungle of Tampa and step into the safari at Busch Gardens, Tampa’s biggest amusement park. Busch Gardens features a plethora of wild roller coasters, a bunch of African-influenced performances, and a wide array of animals, from rhinos and giraffes to the world-famous Budweiser Clydesdales, stars of numerous Super Bowl ads.

4. Support our local ladies – According to a 2006 FinancialFlorida.com report, Tampa ranked number 3 in in adult entertainment establishments per capita. They are everywhere. From the dance clubs to the video stores, there are plenty of places to find that extra bit of attention in the Tampa Bay area. Sadly, due to the poor economy, many of the women employed by the clubs have had to work long, tough hours to make ends meet. So please, swing on by and give a few dollars or better yet, a few hundred dollars to the women of our local economy.

3. Consume a fresh adult beverage or two - Surprisingly, Tampa can hold its own with many cities in regards to beer production. Tampa is the home of notable breweries such as the Yuengling brewery (guaranteed to be hot spot if any Pennsylvanian teams make the big game), and the Tampa Bay Brewing Company as well as several beer bars, brewpubs, and beer stores. Remember, life is too short to drink bad beer.

2. Chill at Channelside or hang in Ybor City – Located in Tampa are two entertainment districts, the renovated Centro Ybor and the newer Channelside. Both areas feature numerous restaurants, bars, dance clubs, shops, and movie theaters. Both offer adequate parking, with several parking garages to choose from. The two however, do have their differences, as Ybor City is more artistic, and Channelside offers a walk to both the Florida Aquarium or the St. Pete Times Forum, home of the Tampa Bay Lightning. However, if for whatever reason you are undecided as to where to hang out, just take the trolley from one to the other.

1. Get ready for some football – You didn’t come all the way to Tampa to take a tour of the city. You came to see some football. And by the looks of the local construction, the NFL is getting ready for you. Opening days before the game, the NFL Experience is full of events and activities guaranteed to occupy even the most impatient fan. Of course, keep your eyes open for celebrities galore, including ex-players and numerous members of the media. Heck, you might even see me.

(For even more things to do, including a few restaurants and some stuff for the kids, see The Tampa Bay Real Estate Insider.)