Can reading this column increase your virility?

Several perfectly good commercials were interrupted last weekend by the Super Bowl, a game which pitted the Not the Philadelphia Eagles vs. the Also Not the Philadelphia Eagles. One of those teams probably won, though the big winner of the night in my eyes was most definitely the artist formerly known as the Artist Formerly Known as Prince. How cool is that guy? He’s almost old enough to get movie tickets at a discount and he’s short enough to get cut from the Shire’s basketball team, yet everything he touches turns to cool. Teal suits? Cool. Dude wearing a bonnet? Cool. Mick Jagger couldn’t even pull that off.

The biggest disappointment of the game came when the final whistle blew without Gillette introducing a razor with six blades. How long are they going to make us wait? I’m not going to make the jump from my Mach 3 just to buy a razor with a measly five blades. If they sweetened the pot just a little, so that my razor started to resemble a wheat threshing implement, I’d be in there like swimwear. In any case, the day can’t be far off that we’ll be spending more on razor refills than we do on gas or mocha choca latte yayas.

I’m still hoping that Gillette will step up to the plate, as the Great Hair Migration from the top of my head to the rest of my body is causing me to have to shave more than twice a week. Five o’clock shadow used to be two days late, but now it’s starting to show up on time. I still haven’t gotten any better at shaving since I was thirteen, though, and my morning forays in front of the bathroom mirror usually result in unspeakable carnage. Incidentally, Hamburger Helper makes an excellent aftershave. The women can’t resist the Cheddar Cheese Melt.

I have a decent electric shaver that allows me to mow my face, but it doesn’t really get all the stubble, plus I remember an old news story asking the question, “Can radiation from electric shavers raise your risk of cancer?” Of course the answer is no, but the thought still sticks in my head, even though a quick Google search finds that the only people who lend any credence to such a story also think that wearing a hunk of quartz around their necks improves the mental well-being of anyone other than the person who sold it to them.

Besides, when the title of a news story ends with a question mark, the answer will never be given in the story. A question mark at the end of a news story title means, “We were jus’ wonderin’. We dunno, either.”

The most important thing I learned during the Super Bowl is that Grissom is coming back to CSI, which means, as you probably have already figured out, that he left it at some point. Anyway, it will be good to have him back. Judging from the commercials, he took some time off to either be a mall Santa or to enter a Hemingway look-alike contest. In any event, someone should get that guy a six-bladed razor.

Did you see the Snickers commercial where two dudes kissed Lady-and-the-Tramp style? The implication seems to be that Snickers is so good that it has the power to temporarily alter your sexual orientation. If this is true, you would be well-advised to seriously consider your company before consuming your next Snickers bar.

The most heartfelt moment of the Super Bowl came after the game ended, when Cadillac donated a car to the MVP. If there’s anyone who could use some free wheels, it’s definitely the richest guy in the stadium. I bet he’ll be glad to not have to take the bus to practice anymore.

Mike Todd is open! You can hit him with an email at mikectodd@gmail.com.