You can drink and eat cheeseburgers in a local tavern for 3 grand a year and tip your bartender big, like you won the lottery. You can buy rounds for your friends and watch the Stupid Bowl on several big screens and yell and scream with your drunken pals and hope to win the pool or a side bet. You won’t have to wait in line for your food or booze or to take a long, pleasant piss, and you can do drugs in bathroom stalls, good drugs with all that cash. Yeh!
And, for 6 grand you can go to high-end joints and get 86’d just for not looking cool or pretty or trendy and not behaving yourself around a bunch of stiffs.
Some tickets, even bad ones where the players seem miles away and you need a huge screen to really see what’s going on cost over 4 grand, which means 8 or 9 grand for a couple, plus perhaps a plane flight and hotel room, which might add another grand or two. One can buy a 5 year old Toyota Camry with all the amenities provided in that model for that amount of money, which means you can go on a trip and not worry about breaking down and getting ripped off by some sleazy mechanic in some strange town or city where nobody knows you or cares about you, but just wants your cash no matter how poor or downtrodden your financial affairs are.
With 8 or 9 or 10 grand one can take a spouse on a cruise anywhere one wants, Europe, the West Indies, South America, and savor gourmet food, $100 bottles of wine, and spas, massages, a pampering only the very affluent who can afford cruises indulge in, and if you happen to be in Europe, cruising down the Danube or hanging out on Greek Isle drinking ouzo and dallying with ladies of the night, you can stop off and go skiing at Cortina D’Ampezzo with European high rollers and royalty.
Reportedly, people who can afford it are coming from all over the country and even foreign countries to rent homes and apartments in San Francisco and its adjoining cities for as much as $12,000.00 for a few days just to see the Stupid Bowl, which means they will dine in the finest restaurants and drink the most expensive wines while wives shop in the most pricey boutiques and hobnob with the techie geeks who have bought up most of the homes and apartments and made the city too expensive to live in for ordinary San Franciscans and therefore sapped its once thriving off-beat character like a giant hypodermic needle sucking out its blood and marrow.
But everybody will make money in this playground for the rich, even the bottom-feeders grubbing around for a few crumbs.
The other day on a sports talk radio show, Hall of Fame Guard for the great Green Bay packers, Jerry Kramer, said that some tickets are going for 40 grand, which means 80 grand for a couple. Kramer, who played in the first two Super Bowls in 1967 and ’68 in the LA Coliseum (which were not Stupid Bowls) and won, said he bought 4 tickets for his nephews at $10 a piece but the kids had no interest in going, so he gave them to some kids hanging around the stadium.
Christ, with 80 grand I can buy a house in some rat-hole like Brawley, California, or Burns, Oregon and live like a king. Or I can stay where I am in relative squalor but join the exclusive country club in nearby San Luis Obispo and hang around a bunch of golfers and card players who will hate me because I like Obama.
Also, with 80 grand, I could finance a homeless shelter for veterans in San Luis Obispo and cease feeling guilty every time I say no when the checker at the Dollar store in Morro Bay asks me to contribute to veterans.
I could donate a few grand to Doctors Without Borders or the ASPCA or children with hairlips or Feed America or the Red Cross or a hundred other groups that mail me literature just because I gave a few bucks I could afford to a couple of these organization.
If you really want to make the scene, you can dish out chump change from a couple hundred bucks to well over a grand to attend pre-game parties sponsored by Sports Illustrated, Sean Diddy, Chris Brown, Pharell Williams, Club 50, the Hilton, Rolling Stone Magazine, Playboy, a tailgate party run by sports interview shill Erin Andrews with the nice ass, and a few others…you can take selfies and send them home to the poor toads locked into a stuffy bar full of howling proletariats—hell, put it on your credit card for 18% and live on your memories, the delirious joy of seeing and being seen by the 1 per cent who are entitled and deserve to attend something as stupid as the American Stupid Bowl, a raging free-for-all grab-bag of our all devouring greed at its most eloquent.