Apparently, size really does matter.
That’s the only explanation I can come up with for why we slap the word “super” in front of so many of our occasions, rites and rituals.
The NFL championship game isn’t simply called the NFL championship game.
It’s the Super Bowl.
That’s the only explanation I can come up with for why we slap the word “super” in front of so many of our occasions, rites and rituals.
The NFL championship game isn’t simply called the NFL championship game.
It’s the Super Bowl.
The day that a variety of states hold presidential primaries isn’t tagged with a lame label like “Primary Day”.
No, by Grapthar’s Hammer, we all line up to cast our votes on Super Tuesday.
And who among us has not been solicited at least once in our lives, if not once last week, with an invitation to ratchet up the calorie and carb count on that meal we just yelled into that little speaker outside our car window?
Would you like to “Supersize” that order?
To paraphrase Jerry Lee Lewis…”whole lotta super goin on…”
Being the aficionado for word usage that I am, I thought, what the hey?
So, first, I went to the dictionary.
Super (adj) of the highest quality "an ace reporter"; "a crack shot"; "a first-rate golfer"; "played top-notch tennis"; "an athlete in tiptop condition"; "she is absolutely tops "
Well, right off the bat, we have a little issue to consider here.
I will grant you that the annual gridiron contest between the two teams that have won the most games in their respective divisions and made it through the playoff gauntlet to arrive in Miami or Phoenix or New Orleans to determine who will, in the end, have won the most games, period, has the potential to be a pretty exciting afternoon/evening of football.
But “of the highest quality”?
I don’t think even the most rabid football junkie could swear under oath that the events always meet that particular standard.
First, of all, how many times have you found yourself looking at what can only charitably be called “a blowout” before the ref has even begun to pucker up to blow the half time whistle?
Then there’s the matter of the half time entertainment itself.
With all due respect to the planning and effort that has to go into putting on a show in the middle of a football stadium for millions of people, I’m not sure that either the renditions of their hits the AARP eligible Rolling Stones offer up or the quick, unexpected flash of Janet Jackson’s boob are “of the highest quality.”
And don’t even get me started on the wit and wisdom of Terry Bradshaw.
As far as Super Tuesday is concerned, I don’t think we need to belabor the point that the entire day is all about politics.
“Politics” and “of the highest quality” in the same sentence?
Consider my case rested.
Thing about it, though, is that putting the word “super” in front of something does tend to give it an added, if possibly undeserved, clout and/or credibility. And while I have no problem throwing the occasional harpoon, I’m not so naïve as to totally dismiss the power of the whale, so I’ve come up with some ideas how we take even more advantage of this adjective that apparently lifts the mundane into the ranks of the marvelous.
Super World Series…two teams, one game, nine innings, winner take all… but instead of standing and awkwardly looking around to see if anybody else is actually stretching during the seventh inning stretch, the big flat bed stage rolls out to the middle of the field and we are entertained by a star with a big enough name that you don’t feel totally reamed having had to pay two hundred bucks for the seat.
Super Daylight Savings Time…what the hell, let’s move the clocks forward two hours….if you live on the East Coast, you can enjoy the day’s activities all the way up until about midnight…and if you’re not a big fan of sunlight at night, just move to Arizona where they don’t like to play fast and loose with Father Time….
Super Black Friday…the traditional day after Thanksgiving sales signaling the official beginning of the holiday shopping season starts just a touch sooner than it does these days…say, the day after Labor Day.
Super Masters Tournament…still the same, world class players vying for that green blazer at Augusta National….but we add those really fun windmills to all of the putting greens…oh, and Tiger has to play with left handed clubs…and he’ll still win six of eight times…
Super Congress…a special session where they actually have to get something done that doesn’t involve wasting money or time…
Super Oscars…a thirty-minute award show (counting commercials) that gives out only the statues that everybody on the planet Earth, with the exception of the grips, gaffers, art directors and continuity girl, are really interested in…
Super Christmas…leave in the tree, decorations, presents, family gatherings and peace on earth…take out everything else…especially any TV commercials that imply that a gift card for an eye exam makes the perfect holiday gift….
Super Service…you call the 800 number for assistance…you get someone you can understand without having to borrow Captain Kirk’s Universal Translator…
You know what? The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to get it.
If something isn’t quite measuring up to what we need it to be, for whatever reason, if it is failing to live up to expectations, offering less than we hope for or demand, then we should just slap that superlative (pun intended) right there on the front of it.
And even if it’s only hype, the slightest chance that it might improve the presentation in some way justifies the labeling.
So, I’m thinking…maybe…
Super President.
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