Ecumen guest blogger Jim Klobuchar dissects the singing of the Star Spangled Banner as America readies for Super Bowl Sunday and Madonna taking the stage in Indianapolis.  Enjoy

Millions of Americans were innocently preparing to watch the New England-Baltimore football playoff game a few weeks ago when the noted rock singer, Steven Tyler, confronted the national anthem with an original act of sadism from which it may never recover.

This is a prediction that is not made lightly. Since the arrival of the modern age of anthem soloists, the venerable old hymn to the land of the free has been subjected to assaults that (a) not only defy the ancient rules of Guido’s scale that have defined music for centuries but also (b) the Geneva Convention’s rules against inhumane punishment

I don’t know why they do it. In our household my wife and I race to see who will grab the remote before the soloist, in a doomed attempt to reach the culminating high note, dissolves into actual excruciation.

Democracy was never intended to be this painful.

I have seen hog callers offer more sympathy to their audience.

It actually goes deeper than that. A lot of times they forget the words. In Cincinnati at a baseball game one year I heard the soulful soprano remembering “the star bangled batter.”

It used to be so simple and harmless. The public address announcer asked the fans join in singing while the band played the national anthem. Mostly we put our hands over our left chests (actually we should sort of center it there if we’re looking for the heart) so we stood and sang or, if military, saluted. Mostly we knew the words. If the audience tried to join in singing with Steven Tyler in New England the other day the crowd would have been finished by the time Tyler spotted the dawn’s early light.

But what I find more worrisome today is the actual health of the soloists. The occasion calls for a certain amount of passion. Commitment. Often it also calls for a lot of hair. Tyler had more hair than Clay Matthews of the Green Packers. I have no idea how it looked on the super-sized Blue Ray loaded screens, but on mine it was enough to reach from our book case to the fireplace.

I was worried because Tyler looked to be in actual anguish. Clutching his microphone, he tossed his head backwards. His voice rambled over at least three octaves and was working hard on the fourth when he got around to the “banner yet wave…”

The suspense in front our TV was intense. My wife wasn’t sure he had the firepower left to reach the home of the brave. More crafty in these matters, I was sure Tyler would make it. He was now in what was dangerously approaching actual convulsion, in the throes of passion. His eyes closed. His hair thrashed in the New England wind. He clutched the microphone. When he got to the land of the free, he reclutched.

With his passion now almost beyond restraint, his hair leaping to new heights with the favorable wind, Tyler finished this ultimate suspense, only slightly off key.

After which they put on the commercial in which the guy wrecks a couple of cars, two city blocks and half of the landscape to remind us there is mayhem out there and we better be insured by the right people.

After which my wife left the TV screen shaking her head and asking, “does all of this really make sense to you?”

I told her it did make a little more sense when a paunchy Kate Smith sang God Bless America followed by the commercial for Rye Krisp.

Change comes hard, friends. Don’t ignore the virtues of Rye Krisp.

About Jim Klobuchar:

In 45 years of daily journalism, Jim Klobuchar’s coverage ranged from presidential campaigns to a trash collector’s ball. He has written from the floor of a tent in the middle of Alaska, from helicopters, from the Alps and from the edge of a sand trap. He was invited to lunch by royalty and to a fist fight by the late Minnesota Viking football coach, Norm Van Brocklin. He wrote a popular column for the Minneapolis Star Tribune for 30 years and has authored 23 books. Retiring as a columnist in 1996, he contributes to Ecumen’s “Changing Aging” blog, MinnPost.com and the Christian Science Monitor. He also leads trips around the world and an annual bike trip across Northern Minnesota. He’s climbed the Matterhorn in the Alps 8 times and has ridden his bike around Lake Superior. He’s also the proud father of two daughters, including Minnesota’s senior U.S. Senator Amy Klobuchar.