If leggy supermodels, zero to 60 in 4.9 seconds and prime tee times are the stuff of your daydreams, then the only job in America more appealing than guitar hero is football star.
Or is it?
“I’ve never been a rock star, so I don’t know,” Hall of Fame quarterback John Elway said.
“Elway, you’ve been a rock star since the day you were born,” interrupted singer Jon Bon Jovi, still making hits at age 45. “It’s a tough gig, but mine just seems to go on. It continues to go on. Mine is a pretty good job.”
So there’s your answer. Unlike a quarterback, old rockers never are forced to retire, they just move down the television dial to VH1.
Fame is fun, not to mention profitable. But it ain’t as easy to be Bon Jovi or Elway as it looks.
Which job is more hazardous to a man’s health?
“That’s a close one,” Bon Jovi insisted.
“That’s true,” Elway agreed.
“You’ve seen Keith Richards, right?” Bon Jovi said.
Citing the aches and pains from a career of blindside shots from blitzing linebackers, Elway argued the case for the dangers of his gig, saying, “Football’s tougher on the joints.”
Uh, clumsily interjected the moderator of this friendly debate between the stars, would “joint” really be the smartest word to use in any discussion regarding the lifestyle hazards of rock ‘n’ roll?
“Yeah, well …” admitted the greatest player in Broncos history, unable to comment further, what with the chuckle rattling in his throat.
And Bon Jovi laughed with him.
It’s good to be the king.
Bon Jovi, a singer whose sales of more than 100 million albums worldwide are almost as impressive as the staying power of his hair, seems to have it all.
But Elway, with two Super Bowl rings and 300 career touchdown passes, might have even more going for him, right down to the extra “H” in his first name.
Sitting in our humble office cubicles or sweating on the assembly line, we drool with envy at rock stars and star quarterbacks who live by the Peter Pan principle, never being required to ever grow up.
Elway and Bon Jovi also seem comfortable being a little middle-aged crazy, seeing as they are owners of franchises from Denver and Philadelphia in the Arena Football League, a game of controlled mayhem that provides further proof that sports increasingly imitate video games. This indoor war on the floor is real football about as much as “South Park” resembles Shakespeare. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
“Elway, I think you should start singing the national anthem. It would be great for ratings. And I’ll play quarterback,” Bon Jovi said.
“Tell you what,” Elway boasted, “I sound good in the shower.”
No matter how average an American man might be, he possesses the talent to strum a mean air guitar on any given Monday morning, while stuck in rush-hour traffic, with the airco and radio both cranked to the max.
Every red-blooded male with the ability to dream can stand in a stadium parking lot and throw the perfect spiral with his right hand, while cradling a frosty can of low-cal beer in the left paw, spilling nary a drop.
This is what makes us guys.
These fantasies are what would make us gladly sell a kidney and dance with the devil, if we could be Elway or Bon Jovi just for one day (and night).
You want me to choose? Thanks for asking, bubba.
Let me live 24 hours of nonstop bliss as a rocker from Jersey, but as long as we’re dreaming, you mind if I steal Springsteen’s ax and rip into “Thunder Road” rather than borrow Bon Jovi’s pipes and sing “Livin’ on a Prayer”?
Now, maybe your idea of heaven on earth would be driving the Broncos 98 1/2 yards through the defenseless Cleveland Browns to the Super Bowl. As thrills go, not bad. But I’ll let you in on a secret. Those goose bumps on your throwing arm aren’t caused by excitement. That’s the wicked wind off Lake Erie talking.
The male ego creates insatiable desire for what we cannot have, which might go a long way to explain why Emmitt Smith was in such a rush to grab the coveted mirror-ball trophy from “Dancing With The Stars” and how rapper Master P let himself get dissed by NBA wannabes he could not hang with during summer-league tryouts.
Boys always crave bigger toys. It must be some wiring quirk in the male DNA.
When Bon Jovi and Elway close their eyes, they both envision themselves owning the ultimate toy for boys: an NFL team.
“I’d be lying to you if I told you I didn’t have aspirations to get into the NFL,” Bon Jovi said. “But I could probably buy a European country quicker and cheaper than I could buy an NFL franchise.”
Bummer.
If even a guitar hero cannot get anything he wants, what shot do the rest of us have?
Forget engineering “The Drive.” Just be happy when the clerk gets your burger order right at the drive-through.
Would you rather go through life as Elway or Bon Jovi? Dream on. Most of us are lucky when the automated voice on the other end of the phone line says “Have a nice day” and sounds sincere.
So, crank up the music and quote the sage musical advice of Elway’s famous buddy: “You live for the fight when it’s all that you’ve got.”
Somehow, it makes us all feel a little more like a hero if you shout those words while playing air guitar, doesn’t it, guy?
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
