Find a Real One on eBay for Less

"Some things just get cooler with age," reads the website. "They develop an unmistakable mojo over time that makes them look cooler and feel even more comfortable than when they were new," they go on to philosophize.

This is forgivable when it happens with jeans. Nothing screams "brand new pants" like some 501s that have never seen a washing machine. But I can't forgive this in a line of new guitars. From Fender no less.

These are not "road worn" instruments. They are new and designed to look road worn. Or as Fender puts it, they have "a killer aged design aesthetic." Smells like bullshit. But surely there is a market for these. No self-respecting wannabe rocker worth his rocks in rock would be caught rockin' a non-rock axe, right? A rocker's gotta look like a rocker, and when it comes to rockin', Fender knows how to make you look your rockin' best. Just ask Springsteen, toting around that stage prop he calls a guitar.

So now, young poseurs, you can look the part right down to your brand new "distressed" guitar from Fender. Make sure you aren't wearing brand new jeans.

Here's the Joe Strummer model.

So wrong.

Your Refuge From Super Bowl Ad Analysis

Bigness

This is that time of year when our colleagues in Europe, South America, Asia and everywhere else say to each other, "Fucking Americans. They think the Super Bowl stops the world and is the end-all showcase of good stuff. I don't know about you guys, but I got work to do." The more indignant of the group say, "We must resist the strident dogma and imperialistic designs of the American advertising culture! Rise up, brothers! Fight!"

It's now beyond stupid. Sean Hannity was previewing Super Bowl ads on his show and telling us which ones are good.

There is more than enough Super Bowl ad review, tweeting and blogging going on without me weighing in as well to give you one more OPINION on what worked and what didn't. Or what will work, since many of the ads are now pre-screening at your favorite ad blog right now.

I will watch the game. I will watch the commercials. I will not update my Facebook status with "Coke ad very funny!" nor will I be live-blogging the spots. I won't join in the pointless debate about who made best use of their $300 zillion 30-second buy.

Who cares? And what do any of us know? I'm just going to enjoy the show, the spectacle, the joke that is now the battle for the Vince Lombardi Trophy. I will also attempt to stomach the halftime show, with God's gift to songwriting weighing in on how to fix America. We sit at your feet, Bruce Almighty, awaiting your instructions. What? Love one another? You are such a genius! (That's just my opinion.)

If you are not the Super Bowl watching type and want to get away to see a movie in a likely-empty theater, I suggest Gran Torino. Saw it yesterday afternoon. It's Eastwood as we like him: Badass. Even at 78, the guy is cool. I know the movie got ripped by many critics who thought it was "ham-fisted" and telegraphed, but those are just opinions from critics. You'll like it or you won't. Just like Super Bowl ads. In this instant-analysis social media era, we're all nothing more than a smörgåsbord of critics and pundits. You've got your followers and you've got the ones you follow.

But it's a damned ugly car...if you ask me.

The Super Bowl Promos Have Begun

And at the risk of angering a bunch of readers, (and in particular the New Jersey readers) the promos feature one of the world's most overrated musicians—Mr. America, Mr. Blue-Collar, Mr. Common Man of the People, Mr. National Treasure, The Boss—this dude.

The Super Bowl halftime show, sure to be blogged about my millions, blessed by the Pope and reviewed live via satellite by President Obama, will feature a bunch of BS.

Not a fan of BS, myself, and that should be OK. I should be allowed to say, "I don't like BS." But BS fans are zealots. You mustn't doubt the power of the BS. Do not knock the BS. It usually goes like this,"Man, you just need to listen to [insert favorite BS album title here] and then you'll understand that he's a poet. An artist. He's a fuckin' genius, Man."

And one of these days I'll piss off some more people with my list of the most overrated musical acts in the history of the world. (Hint: one of the acts is a long-defunct quartet from Liverpool, and the two surviving members were easily the shittiest of the four.)