by John L. Smith
Oh, now I see why scandalous old Las Vegas wasn't allowed to advertise nationally on Sunday during the National Football League's sacred Super Bowl.
Not only did the NFL decide our gambling image sent the wrong message to a delicate and impressionable nation, but we were fresh out of flatulence jokes.
I am speaking, of course, of one of many immensely tasteful moments during Sunday's festivities, this one taking the form of a Bud Light commercial in which an open flame was placed near a gassy horse's rear with an end result straight out of Chaucer.
Speaking of horses' rears, league officials looked like real boobs when they expressed outrage over the exposure of pop diva Janet Jackson's right breast during the halftime show. These are the same league officials who contracted with MTV to produce the extravaganza, which was highlighted by Jackson's S&M-themed dance number with Justin Timberlake, Kid Rock wearing an American flag as a serape, and hip hop gun-control poster child P. Diddy barking a duet with Nelly, whose hit tune features the memorable lyrics, "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes."
Ah, the Super Bowl.
Something for the whole family.
What did the NFL brain trust think it was going to get from the good folks at Mammary Television, Up with People and the Mike Curb Congregation?
Not that the masses who watch the Super Bowl expect entirely tame entertainment. They've come to anticipate a T&A Olympics with their beer, automobile and computer ads.
But talk about your two-minute warnings. After the national anthem, barely 120 seconds of G-rated material was aired the rest of the day.
And while we're overusing the football terminology, where was instant replay during the Janet-and-Justin show?
From the looks of things, the most Jackson could have been charged with was misdemeanor exposure.
Timberlake, who apparently has a future in politics, afterward comically claimed the incident was because of a "wardrobe malfunction." It looked like a tear-away jersey to me. Timberlake appeared to be fumbling an attempt at a two-point conversion when his hand went wide left and he settled for one.
Apparently, no one thought to apologize for Jackson's Madonna-meets-the-Marquis-de-Sade choreography or Kid Rock's use of the Stars and Stripes as a sweat rag. Maybe we should be grateful he didn't blow his nose on it.
All of which makes the NFL's double-tough stance against Las Vegas advertising all the more ludicrous.
Bernice Kenner, author of "The Super Bowl of Advertising: How the Commercials Won the Game," calls the NFL's ban on Las Vegas ads laughable in light of the league's own low standards.
"I think the NFL has its hands full with the boob tube situation," Kenner says. "It's not even the commercials, which indeed were (aimed at) the lowest common denominator. The halftime show really bespeaks hypocrisy. It was the halftime show that really pushed the envelope."
Sunday gave Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority spokesman Rob Powers a chance to gloat: "From our perspective, what happened just underscored how irrational the decision not to let Las Vegas advertise is."
It didn't help the NFL's anti-Las Vegas position that this year's crop of $2.4 million-per-segment commercials were generally crude and less than inspiring.
"I was totally underwhelmed," R&R Partners Executive Vice President Rob Dondero says. R&R holds the LVCVA advertising contract. "Outside of a few of the Budweiser spots, I thought this year's didn't live up to expectations."
What is undeniable, however, is the powerful size of the Super Bowl viewership. To attempt to capture a piece of that audience, R&R spent $1.5 million to purchase time on independent stations in five major markets (Los Angeles, San Francisco, Dallas, Chicago, and New York.) Dondero believes the Las Vegas message reached 20 percent of the game's viewers. R&R's end around apparently worked.
Although its hypocrisy has been exposed, the NFL insists on keeping up its wholesome facade.
Talk about a load of horse laughter.
Or, you know, whatever.
John L. Smith's column appears Fridays in the Nevada Appeal. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.