Last weekend, I attended an awfully strange and unique event. It left me with a ton of intense nostalgic feelings that moved me in a sentimentally human way. It was a party and a movie and in the immortal words of Anthony Michael Hall in the 80's classic film, Weird Science. It was a "movie party". The place was Disneyland in Anaheim, California and the reason was the world premiere of the new Disney film, Pirates of the Caribbean. I was able to get an inside look at the almighty combination of the Disney film studio and theme park divisions. Disney goes beyond Hollywood. It 's an emotion that touches down somewhere between magic and childhood.

We arrived at the park close to 6:00pm to enjoy what we could of Disneyland itself. Being that the movie would be shown outdoors and would not start until after dark, we checked in early. Mainly, because I had never been to Disneyland and my lady hadn't been since childhood. Don't feel bad for me. I grew up on the east coast and we went to Disneyworld. Although, for all intents and purposes, it 's the same thing.

Paris Hilton

 n these troubling times in America’s timeline, we need a leader to rally the people, motivate the masses. We need someone we can stand behind, someone we can trust, someone who won’t let us down. We need someone who can see and operate in the dark. We need someone who can appeal to Wall Street and the upper class as well as milk cows with the commoners. We need Paris…the woman, the city, the legend.

Coming from red-blooded financial royalty, notorious as a socialite, Paris can reap the backing, financial and political, of big business and the upper crust. Her poise and elegance will sooth the fears of an anxious public, shrinking in fear of the Patriot Act. Working with real American heroes on the frontlines of the farming industry on her reality show, “The Simple Life,” she has proven that when it’s time to get down deep in the crud, she’s the first one on her knees. And she will no doubt be a favorite among minorities, as she is a hot skinny white girl with blonde hair.

Many different societies throughout the world wish to be defined by their self-proclaimed ‘greatest moments.’ For the sake of American integrity, I hope that is not the case with us. With each passing year, I observe the grand spectacle of the Super Bowl with a grimace, knowing that the game itself is being overlooked. The Super Bowl is hardly about the game anymore. The Super Bowl is about marketing. If the Super Bowl is a metaphor for American society, I feel sorry for us.

The Super Bowl is about fireworks and gloss, advertising and sponsorship, and Americans are just the airbrushed version of the rest of the world. The Super Bowl is just one game’s ego getting the best of itself, while Americans gorge themselves on saturated fats or trendy diets and beers with no carbohydrates. Isn’t it ironic how the city to host the spectacle this year is also the nations fattest, per capita? There is a pattern here.

America is the land of green grass painted greener for viewer enjoyment.

The Super Bowl was filled with ferocious rock and roll, thousands of dancing women, fantastic pyrotechnics, and that was all before the kickoff. After the several hours of pre-game discussion, television anchors had to resort to personal storylines within the game itself to keep attention. As if we care which swampy bayou Jake DelHomme grew up in. We don’t care about Mike Vrabel’s shoe size.