STONED SUPER BOWL

It was about ten minutes into the third quarter of the Super Bowl two Sundays ago when my older son left his techno lair to give an evaluation of the Rolling Stones' three-song halftime performance.

"They really sucked, Dad," he ranted, as if this was a news flash. I paused the DVD on the tube, the vastly overrated Junebug, and let him continue, glad for a break from the film's anthropological statement about Southern culture. "I mean, they did songs that should've been retired a generation ago," Nicky continued. "That's what Mars Volta, Explosions in the Sky, Animal Collective and Radiohead do."

I've no doubt the Stones were simply awful, not only during the football game, but on their American tour, which has met with mostly positive reviews from critics both old enough to remember the real thing and youngsters who were born after the band released its last classic album (1972's Exile on Main Street). And when a representative for the band claimed two days later that the Stones were pissed off that a couple of tame lines were censored from "Start Me Up" and "Rough Justice," you just had to chuckle and say, "That's Mick, caving in and then spinning after he collected the cash."

Let's face it: Jagger, even at the band's creative peak, was always a yes-man in a devil's costume. Back in '67, when the Stones acquiesced to Ed Sullivan and agreed to sing "Let's Spend Some Time Together" instead of "Let's Spend the Night Together"-as opposed to Bob Dylan telling Ed's reps to stuff it when told he couldn't sing "Talkin' John Birch Society Blues"-it was pretty clear that Mick's "Question Authority" button was a fake.

But I don't understand people, like my son, who say the Stones ought to quit now that they've reached late middle-age. I doubt Bill Gates or Donald Trump will hang it up in ten years, not to mention journalists and politicians who muddle sometimes into their 80s. West Virginia Sen. Robert Byrd, Jimmy Carter and Walter Cronkite are notable exceptions, since almost every syllable they speak is a national embarrassment, but in general millions of older Americans are mentally and physically vital and rarely suffer a "senior moment."

Yes, Stones concerts are antiseptic exercises in nostalgia, but the profits are enormous, and who couldn't use an extra $10 million for a year of hard work? I can see why kids, at least those who can afford the tickets, might want to see the Stones live-you never know when Mick or Keith Richards is going to croak-since it's sort of like the tradition of Oldtimer's Day at Yankee Stadium.

What baffles me is how many Boomers are willing to spend upwards of $500 to hear "Jumpin' Jack Flash" or "Sympathy for the Devil" again and again. Just thinking about it is enough to give me 19 nervous breakdowns. I've seen the Stones live twice; once in '72 at the Garden, when Stevie Wonder was the opening act, the other at Shea Stadium in 1989. The former concert was as memorable as the latter was a dud.

Hearing "Sweet Virginia" and "Tumbling Dice" just after Exile was released was exhilarating-as was Stevie's "Super Woman"-and my only regret that night was the inexcusable goof of carrying into the arena a mere two joints. In '89, I was invited to the show by friends who had tickets, and it was a lot of fun, but mostly for the conversation, with the Stones providing background music. It was a beautiful night for an outdoor picnic.

I concluded the conversation with Nicky by simply stating the obvious: The Rolling Stones, Inc., is an economic engine that's in full throttle still, and while they might've "retired" a song like "Paint it Black" in '69,for the sake of creativity when their art was in continual, exuberant evolution, it's a different venture now. As long as suckers continue to fill giant arenas to watch them prance around and play the golden oldies, the Stones will oblige. For now at least, it's still a seller's market.

By the way, according to The American Thinker's Rosslyn Smith, the 1960s have finally died. Again. In her Feb. 11 piece on the Web site, Smith pegged the decade's demise to the aforementioned Stones appearance at the Super Bowl, a performance that "was compelling only in its misery." Another indication was the Oscar nominations for Brokeback Mountain, a film that details "the wholesale breaking of marriage vows."

OK... How many times have the '60s "died"? There was Altamont, of course, and Kent State, Watergate, the Beatles' break-up, Neil Young endorsing Ronald Reagan, Jerry Rubin transforming into a yuppie, Rupert Murdoch buying the Village Voice, John Lennon's murder, Tom Hayden wearing a suit and tie, disco, the disappearance of a "nickel bag," Orange Julius changing its formula, Rolling Stone's brilliant "Perception vs. Reality" advertising campaign, the end of the draft, Norman Mailer's incoherence and the invention of the CD.

My own opinion is that the '60s, the longest decade in history, evaporated the night Reagan mercifully crushed Carter, but take your pick. This is a debate that won't end until someone throws dirt on Judy Collins' grave.