By Sam Pollak
CNHI News Service

Christina Aguilera can be forgiven for forgetting some of the words to “The Star-Spangled Banner” on Super Bowl Sunday. I just wish she had forgotten all of the lyrics.

After “Glee” star Lea Michele’s classy rendition of “America the Beautiful” in Cowboy Stadium, Aguilera’s screeching sounded like somebody was torturing a porcupine.

Robert Goulet (who certainly could sing) and sprinter Carl Lewis (who certainly couldn’t) also achieved some measure of infamy decades ago for botching the lyrics to our national anthem. Steven Tyler of Aerosmith changed the last line on purpose in 2001 at the Indianapolis 500 and got into a whole lot of trouble.

Still, one imagines Francis Scott Key spinning in his grave after Aguilera’s caterwauling had raised him from the dead.

In fairness, it is important to note that I am to music what Woody Allen is to sumo wrestling.

As far as I’m concerned, popular music reached its apex with Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, Rodgers and Hammerstein (not to mention Hart), Lerner and Loewe and George and Ira Gershwin.

The Super Bowl turned out to be a pretty good game, but for me the best thing was an afternoon program on Public Television’s WCNY, “From Gershwin to Garland — A Musical Journey with Richard Glazier.”

It was heaven to listen to Glazier tell anecdotes about meeting Ira Gershwin and play “Someone to Watch Over Me,” “Embraceable You” and “Rhapsody in Blue” so beautifully on his Steinway piano.

The thing to keep in mind, however, is how little I know about anything composed after 1976, not coincidentally the year the group Wild Cherry came out with “Play That Funky Music, White Boy.”

Don’t ask me why, but if that song comes on the oldies station in my car radio as I reach my destination, I won’t get out until the song is over.

My research has revealed that a gentleman named Robert Matthew Van Winkle, who goes by the name of Vanilla Ice, did a 1989 rap version of the song, along with a little ditty called “Ice Ice Baby.”

Either song, played frequently, could easily elicit far more information at Guantanamo than waterboarding.

Along those lines, my bride of 32 years is far more tolerant when it comes to modern music. Her eclectic tastes often result in her listening to current hits on our cable TV.

The other morning, as the TV’s discordant sounds filled the living room, I was just trying to be nice, complimenting her on how she’s keeping up with the latest trends.

“Sam,” she said, her voice as incredulous as it was condemning, “that’s the ’80s channel.”

Sure enough, Stevie Nicks was singing something I must have slept through (no doubt with some difficulty) during that decade.

Perhaps people centuries from now will revere the music of Christina Aguilera and Vanilla Ice . . . but somehow I doubt it.

As for George Gershwin? Even a musical ignoramus such as I can feel confident in giving this advice to future generations: “Don’t forget his name -- you will hear it spoken often.”
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Sam Pollak is editor of The Daily Star in Oneonta, N.Y. Contact him at spollak@thedailystar.com.